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  • Project Gutenberg's Omoo: Adventures in the South Seas, by Herman Melville
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  • Title: Omoo: Adventures in the South Seas
  • Author: Herman Melville
  • Posting Date: June 12, 2009 [EBook #4045]
  • Release Date: May, 2003
  • First Posted: October 20, 2001
  • Last Updated: March 8, 2004
  • Language: English
  • *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OMOO: ADVENTURES IN THE SOUTH SEAS ***
  • Produced by David Moynihan. HTML version by Al Haines.
  • Omoo: Adventures in the South Seas
  • by
  • Herman Melville
  • PART I
  • CHAPTER I. MY RECEPTION ABOARD
  • CHAPTER II. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE SHIP
  • CHAPTER III. FURTHER ACCOUNT OF THE JULIA
  • CHAPTER IV. A SCENE IN THE FORECASTLE
  • CHAPTER V. WHAT HAPPENED AT HYTYHOO
  • CHAPTER VI. WE TOUCH AT LA DOMINICA
  • CHAPTER VII. WHAT HAPPENED AT HANNAMANOO
  • CHAPTER VIII. THE TATTOOERS OF LA DOMINICA
  • CHAPTER IX. WE STEER TO THE WESTWARD--STATE OF AFFAIRS
  • CHAPTER X. A SEA-PARLOUR DESCRIBED, WITH SOME OF ITS TENANTS
  • CHAPTER XI. DOCTOR LONG GHOST A WAG--ONE OF HIS CAPERS
  • CHAPTER XII. DEATH AND BURIAL OF TWO OF THE CREW
  • CHAPTER XIII. OUR DESTINATION CHANGED
  • CHAPTER XIV. ROPE YARN
  • CHAPTER XV. CHIPS AND BUNGS
  • CHAPTER XVI. WE ENCOUNTER A GALE
  • CHAPTER XVII. THE CORAL ISLANDS
  • CHAPTER XVIII. TAHITI
  • CHAPTER XIX. A SURPRISE--MORE ABOUT BEMBO
  • CHAPTER XX. THE ROUND ROBIN--VISITORS FROM SHORE
  • CHAPTER XXI. PROCEEDINGS OF THE CONSUL
  • CHAPTER XXII. THE CONSUL'S DEPARTURE
  • CHAPTER XXIII. THE SECOND NIGHT OFF PAPEETEE
  • CHAPTER XXIV. OUTBREAK OF THE CREW
  • CHAPTER XXV. JERMIN ENCOUNTERS AN OLD SHIPMATE
  • CHAPTER XXVI. WE ENTER THE HARBOUR--JIM THE PILOT
  • CHAPTER XXVII. A GLANCE AT PAPEETEE--WE ARE SENT ABOARD THE FRIGATE
  • CHAPTER XXVIII. RECEPTION FROM THE FRENCHMAN
  • CHAPTER XXIX. THE REINE BLANCHE
  • CHAPTER XXX. THEY TAKE US ASHORE--WHAT HAPPENED THERE
  • CHAPTER XXXI. THE CALABOOZA BERETANEE
  • CHAPTER XXXII. PROCEEDINGS OF THE FRENCH AT TAHITI
  • CHAPTER XXXIII. WE RECEIVE CALLS AT THE HOTEL DE CALABOOZA
  • CHAPTER XXXIV. LIFE AT THE CALABOOZA
  • CHAPTER XXXV. VISIT FROM AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE
  • CHAPTER XXXVI. WE ARE CARRIED BEFORE THE CONSUL AND CAPTAIN
  • CHAPTER XXXVII. THE FRENCH PRIESTS PAY THEIR RESPECTS
  • CHAPTER XXXVIII. LITTLE JULIA SAILS WITHOUT US
  • CHAPTER XXXIX. JERMIN SERVES US A GOOD TURN--FRIENDSHIPS IN POLYNESIA
  • PART II
  • CHAPTER XL. WE TAKE UNTO OURSELVES FRIENDS
  • CHAPTER XLI. WE LEVY CONTRIBUTIONS ON THE SHIPPING
  • CHAPTER XLII. MOTOO-OTOO A TAHITIAN CASUIST
  • CHAPTER XLIII. ONE IS JUDGED BY THE COMPANY HE KEEPS
  • CHAPTER XLIV. CATHEDRAL OF PAPOAR--THE CHURCH OP THE COCOA-NUTS
  • CHAPTER XLV. MISSIONARY'S SERMON; WITH SOME REFLECTIONS
  • CHAPTER XLVI. SOMETHING ABOUT THE KANNAKIPPERS
  • CHAPTER XLVII. HOW THEY DRESS IN TAHITI
  • CHAPTER XLVIII. TAHITI AS IT IS
  • CHAPTER XLIX. SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED
  • CHAPTER L. SOMETHING HAPPENS TO LONG GHOST
  • CHAPTER LI. WILSON GIVES US THE CUT--DEPARTURE FOR IMEEO
  • CHAPTER LII. THE VALLEY OF MARTAIR
  • CHAPTER LIII. FARMING IN POLYNESIA
  • CHAPTER LIV. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE WILD CATTLE IN POLYNESIA
  • CHAPTER LV. A HUNTING RAMBLE WITH ZEKE
  • CHAPTER LVI. MOSQUITOES
  • CHAPTER LVII. THE SECOND HUNT IN THE MOUNTAINS
  • CHAPTER LVIII. THE HUNTING-FEAST; AND A VISIT TO AFREHITOO
  • CHAPTER LIX. THE MURPHIES
  • CHAPTER LX. WHAT THEY THOUGHT OF US IN MARTAIR
  • CHAPTER LXI. PREPARING FOR THE JOURNEY
  • CHAPTER LXII. TAMAI
  • CHAPTER LXIII. A DANCE IN THE VALLEY
  • CHAPTER LXIV. MYSTERIOUS
  • CHAPTER LXV. THE HEGIRA, OR FLIGHT
  • CHAPTER LXVI. HOW WE WERE TO GET TO TALOO
  • CHAPTER LXVII. THE JOURNEY ROUND THE BEACH
  • CHAPTER LXVIII. A DINNER-PARTY IN IMEEO
  • CHAPTER LXIX. THE COCOA-PALM
  • CHAPTER LXX. LIFE AT LOOHOOLOO
  • CHAPTER LXXI. WE START FOR TALOO
  • CHAPTER LXXII. A DEALER IN THE CONTRABAND
  • CHAPTER LXXIII. OUR RECEPTION IN PARTOOWYE
  • CHAPTER LXXIV. RETIRING FOR THE NIGHT--THE DOCTOR GROWS DEVOUT
  • CHAPTER LXXV. A RAMBLE THROUGH THE SETTLEMENT
  • CHAPTER LXXVI. AN ISLAND JILT--WE VISIT THE SHIP
  • CHAPTER LXXVII. A PARTY OF ROVERS--LITTLE LOO AND THE DOCTOR
  • CHAPTER LXXVIII. MRS. BELL
  • CHAPTER LXXIX. TALOO CHAPEL--HOLDING COURT IN POLYNESIA
  • CHAPTER LXXX. QUEEN POMAREE
  • CHAPTER LXXXI. WE VISIT THE COURT
  • CHAPTER LXXXII. WHICH ENDS THE BOOK
  • PART I
  • CHAPTER I.
  • MY RECEPTION ABOARD
  • IT WAS the middle of a bright tropical afternoon that we made good our
  • escape from the bay. The vessel we sought lay with her main-topsail
  • aback about a league from the land, and was the only object that
  • broke the broad expanse of the ocean.
  • On approaching, she turned out to be a small, slatternly-looking
  • craft, her hull and spars a dingy black, rigging all slack and
  • bleached nearly white, and everything denoting an ill state of
  • affairs aboard. The four boats hanging from her sides proclaimed her
  • a whaler. Leaning carelessly over the bulwarks were the sailors,
  • wild, haggard-looking fellows in Scotch caps and faded blue frocks;
  • some of them with cheeks of a mottled bronze, to which sickness soon
  • changes the rich berry-brown of a seaman's complexion in the tropics.
  • On the quarter-deck was one whom I took for the chief mate. He wore a
  • broad-brimmed Panama hat, and his spy-glass was levelled as we
  • advanced.
  • When we came alongside, a low cry ran fore and aft the deck, and
  • everybody gazed at us with inquiring eyes. And well they might. To
  • say nothing of the savage boat's crew, panting with excitement, all
  • gesture and vociferation, my own appearance was calculated to excite
  • curiosity. A robe of the native cloth was thrown over my shoulders,
  • my hair and beard were uncut, and I betrayed other evidences of my
  • recent adventure. Immediately on gaining the deck, they beset me on
  • all sides with questions, the half of which I could not answer, so
  • incessantly were they put.
  • As an instance of the curious coincidences which often befall the
  • sailor, I must here mention that two countenances before me were
  • familiar. One was that of an old man-of-war's-man, whose acquaintance
  • I had made in Rio de Janeiro, at which place touched the ship in
  • which I sailed from home. The other was a young man whom, four years
  • previous, I had frequently met in a sailor boarding-house in
  • Liverpool. I remembered parting with him at Prince's Dock Gates, in
  • the midst of a swarm of police-officers, trackmen, stevedores,
  • beggars, and the like. And here we were again:--years had rolled by,
  • many a league of ocean had been traversed, and we were thrown
  • together under circumstances which almost made me doubt my own
  • existence.
  • But a few moments passed ere I was sent for into the cabin by the
  • captain.
  • He was quite a young man, pale and slender, more like a sickly
  • counting-house clerk than a bluff sea-captain. Bidding me be seated,
  • he ordered the steward to hand me a glass of Pisco. In the state I
  • was, this stimulus almost made me delirious; so that of all I then
  • went on to relate concerning my residence on the island I can
  • scarcely remember a word. After this I was asked whether I desired to
  • "ship"; of course I said yes; that is, if he would allow me to enter
  • for one cruise, engaging to discharge me, if I so desired, at the
  • next port. In this way men are frequently shipped on board whalemen
  • in the South Seas. My stipulation was acceded to, and the ship's
  • articles handed me to sign.
  • The mate was now called below, and charged to make a "well man" of me;
  • not, let it be borne in mind, that the captain felt any great
  • compassion for me, he only desired to have the benefit of my services
  • as soon as possible.
  • Helping me on deck, the mate stretched me out on the windlass and
  • commenced examining my limb; and then doctoring it after a fashion
  • with something from the medicine-chest, rolled it up in a piece of an
  • old sail, making so big a bundle that, with my feet resting on the
  • windlass, I might have been taken for a sailor with the gout. While
  • this was going on, someone removing my tappa cloak slipped on a blue
  • frock in its place, and another, actuated by the same desire to make
  • a civilized mortal of me, flourished about my head a great pair lie
  • imminent jeopardy of both ears, and the certain destruction of hair
  • and beard.
  • The day was now drawing to a close, and, as the land faded from my
  • sight, I was all alive to the change in my condition. But how far
  • short of our expectations is oftentimes the fulfilment of the most
  • ardent hopes. Safe aboard of a ship--so long my earnest prayer--with
  • home and friends once more in prospect, I nevertheless felt weighed
  • down by a melancholy that could not be shaken off. It was the thought
  • of never more seeing those who, notwithstanding their desire to
  • retain me a captive, had, upon the whole, treated me so kindly. I was
  • leaving them for ever.
  • So unforeseen and sudden had been my escape, so excited had I been
  • through it all, and so great the contrast between the luxurious
  • repose of the valley, and the wild noise and motion of a ship at sea,
  • that at times my recent adventures had all the strangeness of a
  • dream; and I could scarcely believe that the same sun now setting
  • over a waste of waters, had that very morning risen above the
  • mountains and peered in upon me as I lay on my mat in Typee.
  • Going below into the forecastle just after dark, I was inducted into a
  • wretched "bunk" or sleeping-box built over another. The rickety
  • bottoms of both were spread with several pieces of a blanket. A
  • battered tin can was then handed me, containing about half a pint of
  • "tea"--so called by courtesy, though whether the juice of such stalks
  • as one finds floating therein deserves that title, is a matter all
  • shipowners must settle with their consciences. A cube of salt beef,
  • on a hard round biscuit by way of platter, was also handed up; and
  • without more ado, I made a meal, the salt flavour of which, after the
  • Nebuchadnezzar fare of the valley, was positively delicious.
  • While thus engaged, an old sailor on a chest just under me was puffing
  • out volumes of tobacco smoke. My supper finished, he brushed the stem
  • of his sooty pipe against the sleeve of his frock, and politely waved
  • it toward me. The attention was sailor-like; as for the nicety of the
  • thing, no man who has lived in forecastles is at all fastidious; and
  • so, after a few vigorous whiffs to induce repose, I turned over and
  • tried my best to forget myself. But in vain. My crib, instead of
  • extending fore and aft, as it should have done, was placed athwart
  • ships, that is, at right angles to the keel, and the vessel, going
  • before the wind, rolled to such a degree, that-every time my heels
  • went up and my head went down, I thought I was on the point of
  • turning a somerset. Beside this, there were still more annoying
  • causes of inquietude; and every once in a while a splash of water
  • came down the open scuttle, and flung the spray in my face.
  • At last, after a sleepless night, broken twice by the merciless call
  • of the watch, a peep of daylight struggled into view from above, and
  • someone came below. It was my old friend with the pipe.
  • "Here, shipmate," said I, "help me out of this place, and let me go
  • on deck."
  • "Halloa, who's that croaking?" was the rejoinder, as he peered into
  • the obscurity where I lay. "Ay, Typee, my king of the cannibals, is
  • it you I But I say, my lad, how's that spar of your'n? the mate says
  • it's in a devil of a way; and last night set the steward to
  • sharpening the handsaw: hope he won't have the carving of ye."
  • Long before daylight we arrived off the bay of Nukuheva, and making
  • short tacks until morning, we then ran in and sent a boat ashore with
  • the natives who had brought me to the ship. Upon its return, we made
  • sail again, and stood off from the land. There was a fine breeze; and
  • notwithstanding my bad night's rest, the cool, fresh air of a
  • morning at sea was so bracing, mat, as soon as I breathed it, my
  • spirits rose at once.
  • Seated upon the windlass the greater portion of the day, and chatting
  • freely with the men, I learned the history of the voyage thus far,
  • and everything respecting the ship and its present condition.
  • These matters I will now throw together in the next chapter.
  • CHAPTER II.
  • SOME ACCOUNT OF THE SHIP
  • FIRST AND foremost, I must give some account of the Julia herself; or
  • "Little Jule," as the sailors familiarly styled her.
  • She was a small barque of a beautiful model, something more than two
  • hundred tons, Yankee-built and very old. Fitted for a privateer out
  • of a New England port during the war of 1812, she had been captured
  • at sea by a British cruiser, and, after seeing all sorts of service,
  • was at last employed as a government packet in the Australian seas.
  • Being condemned, however, about two years previous, she was purchased
  • at auction by a house in Sydney, who, after some slight repairs,
  • dispatched her on the present voyage.
  • Notwithstanding the repairs, she was still in a miserable plight. The
  • lower masts were said to be unsound; the standing rigging was much
  • worn; and, in some places, even the bulwarks were quite rotten.
  • Still, she was tolerably tight, and but little more than the ordinary
  • pumping of a morning served to keep her free.
  • But all this had nothing to do with her sailing; at that, brave Little
  • Jule, plump Little Jule, was a witch. Blow high, or blow low, she was
  • always ready for the breeze; and when she dashed the waves from her
  • prow, and pranced, and pawed the sea, you never thought of her
  • patched sails and blistered hull. How the fleet creature would fly
  • before the wind! rolling, now and then, to be sure, but in very
  • playfulness. Sailing to windward, no gale could bow her over: with
  • spars erect, she looked right up into the wind's eye, and so she went.
  • But after all, Little Jule was not to be confided in. Lively enough,
  • and playful she was, but on that very account the more to be
  • distrusted. Who knew, but that like some vivacious old mortal all at
  • once sinking into a decline, she might, some dark night, spring a
  • leak and carry us all to the bottom. However, she played us no such
  • ugly trick, and therefore, I wrong Little Jule in supposing it.
  • She had a free roving commission. According to her papers she might go
  • whither she pleased--whaling, sealing, or anything else. Sperm
  • whaling, however, was what she relied upon; though, as yet, only two
  • fish had been brought alongside.
  • The day they sailed out of Sydney Heads, the ship's company, all told,
  • numbered some thirty-two souls; now, they mustered about twenty; the
  • rest had deserted. Even the three junior mates who had headed the
  • whaleboats were gone: and of the four harpooners, only one was left,
  • a wild New Zealander, or "Mowree" as his countrymen are more commonly
  • called in the Pacific. But this was not all. More than half the
  • seamen remaining were more or less unwell from a long sojourn in a
  • dissipated port; some of them wholly unfit for duty, one or two
  • dangerously ill, and the rest managing to stand their watch though
  • they could do but little.
  • The captain was a young cockney, who, a few years before, had
  • emigrated to Australia, and, by some favouritism or other, had
  • procured the command of the vessel, though in no wise competent.
  • He was essentially a landsman, and though a man of education, no more
  • meant for the sea than a hairdresser. Hence everybody made fun of
  • him. They called him "The Cabin Boy," "Paper Jack," and half a dozen
  • other undignified names. In truth, the men made no secret of the
  • derision in which they held him; and as for the slender gentleman
  • himself, he knew it all very well, and bore himself with becoming
  • meekness. Holding as little intercourse with them as possible, he
  • left everything to the chief mate, who, as the story went, had been
  • given his captain in charge. Yet, despite his apparent unobtrusiveness,
  • the silent captain had more to do with the men than they thought. In
  • short, although one of your sheepish-looking fellows, he had a sort
  • of still, timid cunning, which no one would have suspected, and which,
  • for that very reason, was all the more active. So the bluff mate,
  • who always thought he did what he pleased, was occasionally made a
  • fool of; and some obnoxious measures which he carried out, in spite
  • of all growlings, were little thought to originate with the dapper
  • little fellow in nankeen jacket and white canvas pumps. But, to all
  • appearance, at least, the mate had everything his own way; indeed,
  • in most things this was actually the case; and it was quite plain
  • that the captain stood in awe of him.
  • So far as courage, seamanship, and a natural aptitude for keeping
  • riotous spirits in subjection were concerned, no man was better
  • qualified for his vocation than John Jermin. He was the very
  • beau-ideal of the efficient race of short, thick-set men. His hair
  • curled in little rings of iron gray all over his round bullet head. As
  • for his countenance, it was strongly marked, deeply pitted with the
  • small-pox. For the rest, there was a fierce little squint out of one
  • eye; the nose had a rakish twist to one side; while his large mouth,
  • and great white teeth, looked absolutely sharkish when he laughed. In
  • a word, no one, after getting a fair look at him, would ever think of
  • improving the shape of his nose, wanting in symmetry as it was.
  • Notwithstanding his pugnacious looks, however, Jermin had a heart as
  • big as a bullock's; that you saw at a glance.
  • Such was our mate; but he had one failing: he abhorred all weak
  • infusions, and cleaved manfully to strong drink.. At all times he was
  • more or less under the influence of it. Taken in moderate quantities,
  • I believe, in my soul, it did a man like him good; brightened his
  • eyes, swept the cobwebs out of his brain, and regulated his pulse.
  • But the worst of it was, that sometimes he drank too much, and a more
  • obstreperous fellow than Jermin in his cups, you seldom came across.
  • He was always for having a fight; but the very men he flogged loved
  • him as a brother, for he had such an irresistibly good-natured way of
  • knocking them down, that no one could find it in his heart to bear
  • malice against him. So much for stout little Jermin.
  • All English whalemen are bound by-law to carry a physician, who, of
  • course, is rated a gentleman, and lives in the cabin, with nothing
  • but his professional duties to attend to; but incidentally he drinks
  • "flip" and plays cards with the captain. There was such a worthy
  • aboard of the Julia; but, curious to tell, he lived in the forecastle
  • with the men. And this was the way it happened.
  • In the early part of the voyage the doctor and the captain lived
  • together as pleasantly as could be. To say nothing of many a can they
  • drank over the cabin transom, both of them had read books, and one of
  • them had travelled; so their stories never flagged. But once on a
  • time they got into a dispute about politics, and the doctor,
  • moreover, getting into a rage, drove home an argument with his fist,
  • and left the captain on the floor literally silenced. This was
  • carrying it with a high hand; so he was shut up in his state-room for
  • ten days, and left to meditate on bread and water, and the
  • impropriety of flying into a passion. Smarting under his disgrace, he
  • undertook, a short time after his liberation, to leave the vessel
  • clandestinely at one of the islands, but was brought back
  • ignominiously, and again shut up. Being set at large for the second
  • time, he vowed he would not live any longer with the captain, and
  • went forward with his chests among the sailors, where he was received
  • with open arms as a good fellow and an injured man.
  • I must give some further account of him, for he figures largely in the
  • narrative. His early history, like that of many other heroes, was
  • enveloped in the profoundest obscurity; though he threw out hints of
  • a patrimonial estate, a nabob uncle, and an unfortunate affair which
  • sent him a-roving. All that was known, however, was this. He had gone
  • out to Sydney as assistant-surgeon of an emigrant ship. On his
  • arrival there, he went back into the country, and after a few months'
  • wanderings, returned to Sydney penniless, and entered as doctor
  • aboard of the Julia.
  • His personal appearance was remarkable. He was over six feet high--a
  • tower of bones, with a complexion absolutely colourless, fair hair,
  • and a light unscrupulous gray eye, twinkling occasionally at the very
  • devil of mischief. Among the crew, he went by the name of the Long
  • Doctor, or more frequently still, Doctor Long Ghost. And from
  • whatever high estate Doctor Long Ghost might have fallen, he had
  • certainly at some time or other spent money, drunk Burgundy, and
  • associated with gentlemen.
  • As for his learning, he quoted Virgil, and talked of Hobbs of
  • Malmsbury, beside repeating poetry by the canto, especially Hudibras.
  • He was, moreover, a man who had seen the world. In the easiest way
  • imaginable, he could refer to an amour he had in Palermo, his
  • lion-hunting before breakfast among the Caffres, and the quality of
  • the coffee to be drunk in Muscat; and about these places, and a
  • hundred others, he had more anecdotes than I can tell of. Then such
  • mellow old songs as he sang, in a voice so round and racy, the real
  • juice of sound. How such notes came forth from his lank body was a
  • constant marvel.
  • Upon the whole, Long Ghost was as entertaining a companion as one
  • could wish; and to me in the Julia, an absolute godsend.
  • CHAPTER III.
  • FURTHER ACCOUNT OF THE JULIA
  • OWING to the absence of anything like regular discipline, the vessel
  • was in a state of the greatest uproar. The captain, having for some
  • time past been more or less confined to the cabin from sickness, was
  • seldom seen. The mate, however, was as hearty as a young lion, and
  • ran about the decks making himself heard at all hours. Bembo, the
  • New Zealand harpooner, held little intercourse with anybody but the
  • mate, who could talk to him freely in his own lingo. Part of his time
  • he spent out on the bowsprit, fishing for albicores with a bone hook;
  • and occasionally he waked all hands up of a dark night dancing some
  • cannibal fandango all by himself on the forecastle. But, upon the
  • whole, he was remarkably quiet, though something in his eye showed he
  • was far from being harmless.
  • Doctor Long Ghost, having sent in a written resignation as the ship's
  • doctor, gave himself out as a passenger for Sydney, and took the
  • world quite easy. As for the crew, those who were sick seemed
  • marvellously contented for men in their condition; and the rest, not
  • displeased with the general licence, gave themselves little thought
  • of the morrow.
  • The Julia's provisions were very poor. When opened, the barrels of
  • pork looked as if preserved in iron rust, and diffused an odour like
  • a stale ragout. The beef was worse yet; a mahogany-coloured fibrous
  • substance, so tough and tasteless, that I almost believed the cook's
  • story of a horse's hoof with the shoe on having been fished up out of
  • the pickle of one of the casks. Nor was the biscuit much better;
  • nearly all of it was broken into hard, little gunflints, honeycombed
  • through and through, as if the worms usually infesting this article
  • in long tropical voyages had, in boring after nutriment, come out at
  • the antipodes without finding anything.
  • Of what sailors call "small stores," we had but little. "Tea,"
  • however, we had in abundance; though, I dare say, the Hong merchants
  • never had the shipping of it. Beside this, every other day we had
  • what English seamen call "shot soup"--great round peas, polishing
  • themselves like pebbles by rolling about in tepid water.
  • It was afterward told me, that all our provisions had been purchased
  • by the owners at an auction sale of condemned navy stores in Sydney.
  • But notwithstanding the wateriness of the first course of soup, and
  • the saline flavour of the beef and pork, a sailor might have made a
  • satisfactory meal aboard of the Julia had there been any side
  • dishes--a potato or two, a yam, or a plantain. But there was nothing
  • of the kind. Still, there was something else, which, in the estimation
  • of the men, made up for all deficiencies; and that was the regular
  • allowance of Pisco.
  • It may seem strange that in such a state of affairs the captain should
  • be willing to keep the sea with his ship. But the truth was, that by
  • lying in harbour, he ran the risk of losing the remainder of his men
  • by desertion; and as it was, he still feared that, in some outlandish
  • bay or other, he might one day find his anchor down, and no crew to
  • weigh it.
  • With judicious officers the most unruly seamen can at sea be kept in
  • some sort of subjection; but once get them within a cable's length of
  • the land, and it is hard restraining them. It is for this reason that
  • many South Sea whalemen do not come to anchor for eighteen or twenty
  • months on a stretch. When fresh provisions are needed, they run for
  • the nearest land--heave to eight or ten miles off, and send a boat
  • ashore to trade. The crews manning vessels like these are for the most
  • part villains of all nations and dyes; picked up in the lawless ports
  • of the Spanish Main, and among the savages of the islands. Like
  • galley-slaves, they are only to be governed by scourges and chains.
  • Their officers go among them with dirk and pistol--concealed, but
  • ready at a grasp.
  • Not a few of our own crew were men of this stamp; but, riotous at
  • times as they were, the bluff drunken energies of Jennin were just
  • the thing to hold them in some sort of noisy subjection. Upon an
  • emergency, he flew in among them, showering his kicks and cuffs right
  • and left, and "creating a sensation" in every direction. And as
  • hinted before, they bore this knock-down authority with great
  • good-humour. A sober, discreet, dignified officer could have done
  • nothing with them; such a set would have thrown him and his dignity
  • overboard.
  • Matters being thus, there was nothing for the ship but to keep the
  • sea. Nor was the captain without hope that the invalid portion of his
  • crew, as well as himself, would soon recover; and then there was no
  • telling what luck in the fishery might yet be in store for us. At any
  • rate, at the time of my coming aboard, the report was, that Captain
  • Guy was resolved upon retrieving the past and filling the vessel with
  • oil in the shortest space possible.
  • With this intention, we were now shaping our course for Hytyhoo, a
  • village on the island of St. Christina--one of the Marquesas, and so
  • named by Mendanna--for the purpose of obtaining eight seamen, who,
  • some weeks before, had stepped ashore there from the Julia. It was
  • supposed that, by this time, they must have recreated themselves
  • sufficiently, and would be glad to return to their duty.
  • So to Hytyhoo, with all our canvas spread, and coquetting with the
  • warm, breezy Trades, we bowled along; gliding up and down the long,
  • slow swells, the bonettas and albicores frolicking round us.
  • CHAPTER IV.
  • A SCENE IN THE FORECASTLE
  • I HAD scarcely been aboard of the ship twenty-four hours, when a
  • circumstance occurred, which, although noways picturesque, is so
  • significant of the state of affairs that I cannot forbear relating
  • it.
  • In the first place, however, it must be known, that among the crew was
  • a man so excessively ugly, that he went by the ironical appellation
  • of "Beauty." He was the ship's carpenter; and for that reason was
  • sometimes known by his nautical cognomen of "Chips." There was no
  • absolute deformity about the man; he was symmetrically ugly. But ill
  • favoured as he was in person, Beauty was none the less ugly in
  • temper; but no one could blame him; his countenance had soured his
  • heart. Now Jermin and Beauty were always at swords' points. The
  • truth was, the latter was the only man in the ship whom the mate had
  • never decidedly got the better of; and hence the grudge he bore him.
  • As for Beauty, he prided himself upon talking up to the mate, as we
  • shall soon see.
  • Toward evening there was something to be done on deck, and the
  • carpenter who belonged to the watch was missing. "Where's that skulk,
  • Chips?" shouted Jermin down the forecastle scuttle.
  • "Taking his ease, d'ye see, down here on a chest, if you want to
  • know," replied that worthy himself, quietly withdrawing his pipe from
  • his mouth. This insolence flung the fiery little mate into a mighty
  • rage; but Beauty said nothing, puffing away with all the tranquillity
  • imaginable. Here it must be remembered that, never mind what may be
  • the provocation, no prudent officer ever dreams of entering a ship's
  • forecastle on a hostile visit. If he wants to see anybody who happens
  • to be there, and refuses to come up, why he must wait patiently until
  • the sailor is willing. The reason is this. The place is very dark:
  • and nothing is easier than to knock one descending on the head,
  • before he knows where he is, and a very long while before he ever
  • finds out who did it.
  • Nobody knew this better than Jermin, and so he contented himself with
  • looking down the scuttle and storming. At last Beauty made some cool
  • observation which set him half wild.
  • "Tumble on deck," he then bellowed--"come, up with you, or I'll jump
  • down and make you." The carpenter begged him to go about it at once.
  • No sooner said than done: prudence forgotten, Jermin was there; and by
  • a sort of instinct, had his man by the throat before he could well
  • see him. One of the men now made a rush at him, but the rest dragged
  • him off, protesting that they should have fair play.
  • "Now come on deck," shouted the mate, struggling like a good fellow to
  • hold the carpenter fast.
  • "Take me there," was the dogged answer, and Beauty wriggled about in
  • the nervous grasp of the other like a couple of yards of
  • boa-constrictor.
  • His assailant now undertook to make him up into a compact bundle, the
  • more easily to transport him. While thus occupied, Beauty got his
  • arms loose, and threw him over backward. But Jermin quickly recovered
  • himself, when for a time they had it every way, dragging each other
  • about, bumping their heads against the projecting beams, and
  • returning each other's blows the first favourable opportunity that
  • offered. Unfortunately, Jermin at last slipped and fell; his foe
  • seating himself on his chest, and keeping him down. Now this was one
  • of those situations in which the voice of counsel, or reproof, comes
  • with peculiar unction. Nor did Beauty let the opportunity slip. But
  • the mate said nothing in reply, only foaming at the mouth and
  • struggling to rise.
  • Just then a thin tremor of a voice was heard from above. It was the
  • captain; who, happening to ascend to the quarter-deck at the
  • commencement of the scuffle, would gladly have returned to the cabin,
  • but was prevented by the fear of ridicule. As the din increased, and
  • it became evident that his officer was in serious trouble, he thought
  • it would never do to stand leaning over the bulwarks, so he made his
  • appearance on the forecastle, resolved, as his best policy, to treat
  • the matter lightly.
  • "Why, why," he begun, speaking pettishly, and very fast, "what's all
  • this about?--Mr. Jermin, Mr. Jermin--carpenter, carpenter; what are
  • you doing down there? Come on deck; come on deck."
  • Whereupon Doctor Long Ghost cries out in a squeak, "Ah! Miss Guy, is
  • that you? Now, my dear, go right home, or you'll get hurt."
  • "Pooh, pooh! you, sir, whoever you are, I was not speaking to you;
  • none of your nonsense. Mr. Jermin, I was talking to you; have the
  • kindness to come on deck, sir; I want to see you."
  • "And how, in the devil's name, am I to get there?" cried the mate,
  • furiously. "Jump down here, Captain Guy, and show yourself a man. Let
  • me up, you Chips! unhand me, I say! Oh! I'll pay you for this, some
  • day! Come on, Captain Guy!"
  • At this appeal, the poor man was seized with a perfect spasm of
  • fidgets. "Pooh, pooh, carpenter; have done with your nonsense! Let
  • him up, sir; let him up! Do you hear? Let Mr. Jermm come on deck!"
  • "Go along with you, Paper Jack," replied Beauty; "this quarrel's
  • between the mate and me; so go aft, where you belong!"
  • As the captain once more dipped his head down the scuttle to make
  • answer, from an unseen hand he received, full in the face, the
  • contents of a tin can of soaked biscuit and tea-leaves. The doctor
  • was not far off just then. Without waiting for anything more, the
  • discomfited gentleman, with both hands to his streaming face,
  • retreated to the quarter-deck.
  • A few moments more, and Jermin, forced to a compromise, followed
  • after, in his torn frock and scarred face, looking for all the world
  • as if he had just disentangled himself from some intricate piece of
  • machinery. For about half an hour both remained in the cabin, where
  • the mate's rough tones were heard high above the low, smooth voice of
  • the captain.
  • Of all his conflicts with the men, this was the first in which Jermin
  • had been worsted; and he was proportionably enraged. Upon going
  • below--as the steward afterward told us--he bluntly informed Guy
  • that, for the future, he might look out for his ship himself; for his
  • part, he had done with her, if that was the way he allowed his
  • officers to be treated. After many high words, the captain finally
  • assured him that, the first fitting opportunity, the carpenter should
  • be cordially flogged; though, as matters stood, the experiment would
  • be a hazardous one. Upon this Jermin reluctantly consented to drop
  • the matter for the present; and he soon drowned all thoughts of it in
  • a can of flip, which Guy had previously instructed the steward to
  • prepare, as a sop to allay his wrath.
  • Nothing more ever came of this.
  • CHAPTER V.
  • WHAT HAPPENED AT HYTYHOO
  • LESS than forty-eight hours after leaving Nukuheva, the blue, looming
  • island of St. Christina greeted us from afar. Drawing near the
  • shore, the grim, black spars and waspish hull of a small man-of-war
  • craft crept into view; the masts and yards lined distinctly against
  • the sky. She was riding to her anchor in the bay, and proved to be a
  • French corvette.
  • This pleased our captain exceedingly, and, coming on deck, he examined
  • her from the mizzen rigging with his glass. His original intention
  • was not to let go an anchor; but, counting upon the assistance of the
  • corvette in case of any difficulty, he now changed his mind, and
  • anchored alongside of her. As soon as a boat could be lowered, he
  • then went off to pay his respects to the commander, and, moreover, as
  • we supposed, to concert measures for the apprehension of the
  • runaways.
  • Returning in the course of twenty minutes, he brought along with him
  • two officers in undress and whiskers, and three or four drunken
  • obstreperous old chiefs; one with his legs thrust into the armholes
  • of a scarlet vest, another with a pair of spurs on his heels, and a
  • third in a cocked hat and feather. In addition to these articles,
  • they merely wore the ordinary costume of their race--a slip of native
  • cloth about the loins. Indecorous as their behaviour was, these
  • worthies turned out to be a deputation from the reverend the clergy
  • of the island; and the object of their visit was to put our ship
  • under a rigorous "Taboo," to prevent the disorderly scenes and
  • facilities for desertion which would ensue, were the natives--men and
  • women--allowed to come off to us freely.
  • There was little ceremony about the matter. The priests went aside for
  • a moment, laid their shaven old crowns together, and went over a
  • little mummery. Whereupon, their leader tore a long strip from his
  • girdle of white tappa, and handed it to one of the French officers,
  • who, after explaining what was to be done, gave it to Jermin. The
  • mate at once went out to the end of the flying jib boom, and fastened
  • there the mystic symbol of the ban. This put to flight a party of
  • girls who had been observed swimming toward us. Tossing their arms
  • about, and splashing the water like porpoises, with loud cries of
  • "taboo! taboo!" they turned about and made for the shore.
  • The night of our arrival, the mate and the Mowree were to stand "watch
  • and watch," relieving each other every four hours; the crew, as is
  • sometimes customary when lying at an anchor, being allowed to remain
  • all night below. A distrust of the men, however, was, in the present
  • instance, the principal reason for this proceeding. Indeed, it was
  • all but certain, that some kind of attempt would be made at
  • desertion; and therefore, when Jermin's first watch came on at eight
  • bells (midnight)--by which time all was quiet--he mounted to the deck
  • with a flask of spirits in one hand, and the other in readiness to
  • assail the first countenance that showed itself above the forecastle
  • scuttle.
  • Thus prepared, he doubtless meant to stay awake; but for all that, he
  • before long fell asleep; and slept with such hearty good-will too,
  • that the men who left us that night might have been waked up by his
  • snoring. Certain it was, the mate snored most strangely; and no
  • wonder, with that crooked bugle of his. When he came to himself it
  • was just dawn, but quite light enough to show two boats gone from the
  • side. In an instant he knew what had happened.
  • Dragging the Mowree out of an old sail where he was napping, he
  • ordered him to clear away another boat, and then darted into the
  • cabin to tell the captain the news. Springing on deck again, he
  • drove down into the forecastle for a couple of oarsmen, but hardly
  • got there before there was a cry, and a loud splash heard over the
  • side. It was the Mowree and the boat--into which he had just leaped
  • to get ready for lowering--rolling over and over in the water.
  • The boat having at nightfall been hoisted up to its place over the
  • starboard quarter, someone had so cut the tackles which held it
  • there, that a moderate strain would at once part them. Bembo's weight
  • had answered the purpose, showing that the deserters must have
  • ascertained his specific gravity to a fibre of hemp. There was
  • another boat remaining; but it was as well to examine it before
  • attempting to lower. And it was well they did; for there was a hole
  • in the bottom large enough to drop a barrel through: she had been
  • scuttled most ruthlessly.
  • Jermin was frantic. Dashing his hat upon deck, he was about to plunge
  • overboard and swim to the corvette for a cutter, when Captain Guy
  • made his appearance and begged him to stay where he was. By this time
  • the officer of the deck aboard the Frenchman had noticed our
  • movements, and hailed to know what had happened. Guy informed him
  • through his trumpet, and men to go in pursuit were instantly
  • promised. There was a whistling of a boatswain's pipe, an order or
  • two, and then a large cutter pulled out from the man-of-war's stern,
  • and in half a dozen strokes was alongside. The mate leaped into her,
  • and they pulled rapidly ashore.
  • Another cutter, carrying an armed crew, soon followed.
  • In an hour's time the first returned, towing the two whale-boats,
  • which had been found turned up like tortoises on the beach.
  • Noon came, and nothing more was heard from the deserters. Meanwhile
  • Doctor Long Ghost and myself lounged about, cultivating an
  • acquaintance, and gazing upon the shore scenery. The bay was as calm
  • as death; the sun high and hot; and occasionally a still gliding
  • canoe stole out from behind the headlands, and shot across the water.
  • And all the morning long our sick men limped about the deck, casting
  • wistful glances inland, where the palm-trees waved and beckoned them
  • into their reviving shades. Poor invalid rascals! How conducive to
  • the restoration of their shattered health would have been those
  • delicious groves! But hard-hearted Jermin assured them, with an oath,
  • that foot of theirs should never touch the beach.
  • Toward sunset a crowd was seen coming down to the water. In advance of
  • all were the fugitives--bareheaded--their frocks and trousers hanging
  • in tatters, every face covered with blood and dust, and their arms
  • pinioned behind them with green thongs. Following them up, was a
  • shouting rabble of islanders, pricking them with the points of their
  • long spears, the party from the corvette menacing them in flank with
  • their naked cutlasses.
  • The bonus of a musket to the King of the Bay, and the promise of a
  • tumblerful of powder for every man caught, had set the whole
  • population on their track; and so successful was the hunt, that not
  • only were that morning's deserters brought back, but five of those
  • left behind on a former visit. The natives, however, were the mere
  • hounds of the chase, raising the game in their coverts, but leaving
  • the securing of it to the Frenchmen. Here, as elsewhere, the
  • islanders have no idea of taking part in such a scuffle as ensues
  • upon the capture of a party of desperate seamen.
  • The runaways were at once brought aboard, and, though they looked
  • rather sulky, soon came round, and treated the whole affair as a
  • frolicsome adventure.
  • CHAPTER VI.
  • WE TOUCH AT LA DOMINICA
  • FEARFUL of spending another night at Hytyhoo, Captain Guy caused the
  • ship to be got under way shortly after dark.
  • The next morning, when all supposed that we were fairly embarked for a
  • long cruise, our course was suddenly altered for La Dominica, or
  • Hivarhoo, an island just north of the one we had quitted. The object
  • of this, as we learned, was to procure, if possible, several English
  • sailors, who, according to the commander of the corvette, had
  • recently gone ashore there from an American whaler, and were desirous
  • of shipping aboard one of their own country vessels.
  • We made the land in the afternoon, coming abreast of a shady glen
  • opening from a deep bay, and winding by green denies far out of
  • sight. "Hands by the weather-main-brace!" roared the mate, jumping up
  • on the bulwarks; and in a moment the prancing Julia, suddenly
  • arrested in her course, bridled her head like a steed reined in,
  • while the foam flaked under her bows.
  • This was the place where we expected to obtain the men; so a boat was
  • at once got in readiness to go ashore. Now it was necessary to
  • provide a picked crew--men the least likely to abscond. After
  • considerable deliberation on the part of the captain and mate, four
  • of the seamen were pitched upon as the most trustworthy; or rather
  • they were selected from a choice assortment of suspicious characters
  • as being of an inferior order of rascality.
  • Armed with cutlasses all round--the natives were said to be an ugly
  • set--they were followed over the side by the invalid captain, who, on
  • this occasion, it seems, was determined to signalize himself.
  • Accordingly, in addition to his cutlass, he wore an old boarding
  • belt, in which was thrust a brace of pistols. They at once shoved
  • off.
  • My friend Long Ghost had, among other things which looked somewhat
  • strange in a ship's forecastle, a capital spy-glass, and on the
  • present occasion we had it in use.
  • When the boat neared the head of the inlet, though invisible to the
  • naked eye, it was plainly revealed by the glass; looking no bigger
  • than an egg-shell, and the men diminished to pigmies.
  • At last, borne on what seemed a long flake of foam, the tiny craft
  • shot up the beach amid a shower of sparkles. Not a soul was there.
  • Leaving one of their number by the water, the rest of the pigmies
  • stepped ashore, looking about them very circumspectly, pausing now
  • and then hand to ear, and peering under a dense grove which swept
  • down within a few paces of the sea. No one came, and to all
  • appearances everything was as still as the grave. Presently he with
  • the pistols, followed by the rest flourishing their bodkins, entered
  • the wood and were soon lost to view. They did not stay long; probably
  • anticipating some inhospitable ambush were they to stray any distance
  • up the glen.
  • In a few moments they embarked again, and were soon riding pertly over
  • the waves of the bay. All of a sudden the captain started to his
  • feet--the boat spun round, and again made for the shore. Some twenty
  • or thirty natives armed with spears which through the glass looked
  • like reeds, had just come out of the grove, and were apparently
  • shouting to the strangers not to be in such a hurry, but return and
  • be sociable. But they were somewhat distrusted, for the boat paused
  • about its length from the beach, when the captain standing up in its
  • head delivered an address in pantomime, the object of which seemed to
  • be, that the islanders should draw near. One of them stepped forward
  • and made answer, seemingly again urging the strangers not to be
  • diffident, but beach their boat. The captain declined, tossing his
  • arms about in another pantomime. In the end he said something which
  • made them shake their spears; whereupon he fired a pistol among them,
  • which set the whole party running; while one poor little fellow,
  • dropping his spear and clapping his hand behind him, limped away in a
  • manner which almost made me itch to get a shot at his assailant.
  • Wanton acts of cruelty like this are not unusual on the part of sea
  • captains landing at islands comparatively unknown. Even at the Pomotu
  • group, but a day's sail from Tahiti, the islanders coming down to the
  • shore have several times been fired at by trading schooners passing
  • through their narrow channels; and this too as a mere amusement on
  • the part of the ruffians.
  • Indeed, it is almost incredible, the light in which many sailors
  • regard these naked heathens. They hardly consider them human. But it
  • is a curious fact, that the more ignorant and degraded men are, the
  • more contemptuously they look upon those whom they deem their
  • inferiors.
  • All powers of persuasion being thus lost upon these foolish savages,
  • and no hope left of holding further intercourse, the boat returned to
  • the ship.
  • CHAPTER VII.
  • WHAT HAPPENED AT HANNAMANOO
  • ON the other side of the island was the large and populous bay of
  • Hannamanoo, where the men sought might yet be found. But as the sun
  • was setting by the time the boat came alongside, we got our offshore
  • tacks aboard and stood away for an offing. About daybreak we wore,
  • and ran in, and by the time the sun was well up, entered the long,
  • narrow channel dividing the islands of La Dominica and St. Christina.
  • On one hand was a range of steep green bluffs hundreds of feet high,
  • the white huts of the natives here and there nestling like birds'
  • nests in deep clefts gushing with verdure. Across the water, the
  • land rolled away in bright hillsides, so warm and undulating that
  • they seemed almost to palpitate in the sun. On we swept, past bluff
  • and grove, wooded glen and valley, and dark ravines lighted up far
  • inland with wild falls of water. A fresh land-breeze filled our
  • sails, the embayed waters were gentle as a lake, and every wave broke
  • with a tinkle against our coppered prow.
  • On gaining the end of the channel we rounded a point, and came full
  • upon the bay of Hannamanoo. This is the only harbour of any note
  • about the island, though as far as a safe anchorage is concerned it
  • hardly deserves the title.
  • Before we held any communication with the shore, an incident occurred
  • which may convey some further idea of the character of our crew.
  • Having approached as near the land as we could prudently, our headway
  • was stopped, and we awaited the arrival of a canoe which was coming
  • out of the bay. All at once we got into a strong current, which swept
  • us rapidly toward a rocky promontory forming one side of the harbour.
  • The wind had died away; so two boats were at once lowered for the
  • purpose of pulling the ship's head round. Before this could be done,
  • the eddies were whirling upon all sides, and the rock so near that it
  • seemed as if one might leap upon it from the masthead. Notwithstanding
  • the speechless fright of the captain, and the hoarse shouts of the
  • unappalled Jennin, the men handled the ropes as deliberately as
  • possible, some of them chuckling at the prospect of going ashore, and
  • others so eager for the vessel to strike, that they could hardly
  • contain themselves. Unexpectedly a countercurrent befriended us, and
  • assisted by the boats we were soon out of danger.
  • What a disappointment for our crew! All their little plans for
  • swimming ashore from the wreck, and having a fine time of it for the
  • rest of their days, thus cruelly nipped in the bud.
  • Soon after, the canoe came alongside. In it were eight or ten natives,
  • comely, vivacious-looking youths, all gesture and exclamation; the
  • red feathers in their head-bands perpetually nodding. With them also
  • came a stranger, a renegade from Christendom and humanity--a white
  • man, in the South Sea girdle, and tattooed in the face. A broad blue
  • band stretched across his face from ear to ear, and on his forehead
  • was the taper figure of a blue shark, nothing but fins from head to
  • tail.
  • Some of us gazed upon this man with a feeling akin to horror, no ways
  • abated when informed that he had voluntarily submitted to this
  • embellishment of his countenance. What an impress! Far worse than
  • Cain's--his was perhaps a wrinkle, or a freckle, which some of our
  • modern cosmetics might have effaced; but the blue shark was a mark
  • indelible, which all the waters of Abana and Pharpar, rivers of
  • Damascus, could never wash out. He was an Englishman, Lem Hardy he
  • called himself, who had deserted from a trading brig touching at the
  • island for wood and water some ten years previous. He had gone ashore
  • as a sovereign power armed with a musket and a bag of ammunition, and
  • ready if need were, to prosecute war on his own account. The country
  • was divided by the hostile kings of several large valleys. With one
  • of them, from whom he first received overtures, he formed an
  • alliance, and became what he now was, the military leader of the
  • tribe, and war-god of the entire island.
  • His campaigns beat Napoleon's. In one night attack, his invincible
  • musket, backed by the light infantry of spears and javelins,
  • vanquished two clans, and the next morning brought all the others to
  • the feet of his royal ally.
  • Nor was the rise of his domestic fortunes at all behind the
  • Corsican's: three days after landing, the exquisitely tattooed hand
  • of a princess was his; receiving along with the damsel as her
  • portion, one thousand fathoms of fine tappa, fifty double-braided
  • mats of split grass, four hundred hogs, ten houses in different parts
  • of her native valley, and the sacred protection of an express edict
  • of the Taboo, declaring his person inviolable for ever.
  • Now, this man was settled for life, perfectly satisfied with his
  • circumstances, and feeling no desire to return to his friends.
  • "Friends," indeed, he had none. He told me his history. Thrown upon
  • the world a foundling, his paternal origin was as much a mystery to
  • him as the genealogy of Odin; and, scorned by everybody, he fled the
  • parish workhouse when a boy, and launched upon the sea. He had
  • followed it for several years, a dog before the mast, and now he had
  • thrown it up for ever.
  • And for the most part, it is just this sort of men--so many of whom
  • are found among sailors--uncared for by a single soul, without ties,
  • reckless, and impatient of the restraints of civilization, who are
  • occasionally found quite at home upon the savage islands of the
  • Pacific. And, glancing at their hard lot in their own country, what
  • marvel at their choice?
  • According to the renegado, there was no other white man on the island;
  • and as the captain could have no reason to suppose that Hardy
  • intended to deceive us, he concluded that the Frenchmen were in some
  • way or other mistaken in what they had told us. However, when our
  • errand was made known to the rest of our visitors, one of them, a
  • fine, stalwart fellow, his face all eyes and expression, volunteered
  • for a cruise. All the wages he asked was a red shirt, a pair of
  • trousers, and a hat, which were to be put on there and then; besides
  • a plug of tobacco and a pipe. The bargain was struck directly; but
  • Wymontoo afterward came in with a codicil, to the effect that a
  • friend of his, who had come along with him, should be given ten whole
  • sea-biscuits, without crack or flaw, twenty perfectly new and
  • symmetrically straight nails, and one jack-knife. This being agreed
  • to, the articles were at once handed over; the native receiving them
  • with great avidity, and in the absence of clothing, using his mouth as
  • a pocket to put the nails in. Two of them, however, were first made
  • to take the place of a pair of ear-ornaments, curiously fashioned out
  • of bits of whitened wood.
  • It now began breezing strongly from seaward, and no time was to be
  • lost in getting away from the land; so after an affecting rubbing of
  • noses between our new shipmate and his countrymen, we sailed away
  • with him.
  • To our surprise, the farewell shouts from the canoe, as we dashed
  • along under bellied royals, were heard unmoved by our islander; but
  • it was not long thus. That very evening, when the dark blue of his
  • native hills sunk in the horizon, the poor savage leaned over the
  • bulwarks, dropped his head upon his chest, and gave way to
  • irrepressible emotions. The ship was plunging hard, and Wymontoo, sad
  • to tell, in addition to his other pangs, was terribly sea-sick.
  • CHAPTER VIII.
  • THE TATTOOERS OF LA DOMINICA
  • FOR a while leaving Little Jule to sail away by herself, I will here
  • put down some curious information obtained from Hardy.
  • The renegado had lived so long on the island that its customs were
  • quite familiar; and I much lamented that, from the shortness of our
  • stay, he could not tell us more than he did.
  • From the little intelligence gathered, however, I learned to my
  • surprise that, in some things, the people of Hivarhoo, though of the
  • same group of islands, differed considerably from my tropical friends
  • in the valley of Typee.
  • As his tattooing attracted so much remark, Hardy had a good deal to
  • say concerning the manner in which that art was practised upon the
  • island.
  • Throughout the entire cluster the tattooers of Hivarhoo enjoyed no
  • small reputation. They had carried their art to the highest
  • perfection, and the profession was esteemed most honourable. No
  • wonder, then, that like genteel tailors, they rated their services
  • very high; so much so that none but those belonging to the higher
  • classes could afford to employ them. So true was this, that the
  • elegance of one's tattooing was in most cases a sure indication of
  • birth and riches.
  • Professors in large practice lived in spacious houses, divided by
  • screens of tappa into numerous little apartments, where subjects were
  • waited upon in private. The arrangement chiefly grew out of a
  • singular ordinance of the Taboo, which enjoined the strictest privacy
  • upon all men, high and low, while under the hands of a tattooer. For
  • the time, the slightest intercourse with others is prohibited, and the
  • small portion of food allowed is pushed under the curtain by an
  • unseen hand. The restriction with regard to food, is intended to
  • reduce the blood, so as to diminish the inflammation consequent upon
  • puncturing the skin. As it is, this comes on very soon, and takes
  • some time to heal; so that the period of seclusion generally embraces
  • many days, sometimes several weeks.
  • All traces of soreness vanished, the subject goes abroad; but only
  • again to return; for, on account of the pain, only a small surface
  • can be operated upon at once; and as the whole body is to be more or
  • less embellished by a process so slow, the studios alluded to are
  • constantly filled. Indeed, with a vanity elsewhere unheard of, many
  • spend no small portion of their days thus sitting to an artist.
  • To begin the work, the period of adolescence is esteemed the most
  • suitable. After casting about for some eminent tattooer, the friends
  • of the youth take him to his house to have the outlines of the
  • general plan laid out. It behoves the professor to have a nice eye,
  • for a suit to be worn for life should be well cut.
  • Some tattooers, yearning after perfection, employ, at large wages, one
  • or two men of the commonest order--vile fellows, utterly regardless
  • of appearances, upon whom they first try their patterns and practise
  • generally. Their backs remorselessly scrawled over, and no more
  • canvas remaining, they are dismissed and ever after go about, the
  • scorn of their countrymen.
  • Hapless wights! thus martyred in the cause of the Fine Arts.
  • Beside the regular practitioners, there are a parcel of shabby,
  • itinerant tattooers, who, by virtue of their calling, stroll
  • unmolested from one hostile bay to another, doing their work
  • dog-cheap for the multitude. They always repair to the various
  • religious festivals, which gather great crowds. When these are
  • concluded, and the places where they are held vacated even by the
  • tattooers, scores of little tents of coarse tappa are left standing,
  • each with a solitary inmate, who, forbidden to talk to his unseen
  • neighbours, is obliged to stay there till completely healed. The
  • itinerants are a reproach to their profession, mere cobblers, dealing
  • in nothing but jagged lines and clumsy patches, and utterly incapable
  • of soaring to those heights of fancy attained by the gentlemen of the
  • faculty.
  • All professors of the arts love to fraternize; and so, in Hannamanoo,
  • the tattooers came together in the chapters of their worshipful
  • order. In this society, duly organized, and conferring degrees,
  • Hardy, from his influence as a white, was a sort of honorary Grand
  • Master. The blue shark, and a sort of Urim and Thummim engraven upon
  • his chest, were the seal of his initiation. All over Hivarhoo are
  • established these orders of tattooers. The way in which the renegado's
  • came to be founded is this. A year or two after his landing there
  • happened to be a season of scarcity, owing to the partial failure of
  • the breadfruit harvest for several consecutive seasons. This brought
  • about such a falling off in the number of subjects for tattooing that
  • the profession became quite needy. The royal ally of Hardy, however,
  • hit upon a benevolent expedient to provide for their wants, at the
  • same time conferring a boon upon many of his subjects.
  • By sound of conch-shell it was proclaimed before the palace, on the
  • beach, and at the head of the valley, that Noomai, King of
  • Hannamanoo, and friend of Hardee-Hardee, the white, kept open heart
  • and table for all tattooers whatsoever; but to entitle themselves to
  • this hospitality, they were commanded to practise without fee upon
  • the meanest native soliciting their services.
  • Numbers at once flocked to the royal abode, both artists and sitters.
  • It was a famous time; and the buildings of the palace being "taboo"
  • to all but the tattooers and chiefs, the sitters bivouacked on the
  • common, and formed an extensive encampment.
  • The "Lora Tattoo," or the Time of Tattooing, will be long remembered.
  • An enthusiastic sitter celebrated the event in verse. Several lines
  • were repeated to us by Hardy, some of which, in a sort of colloquial
  • chant he translated nearly thus:
  • "Where is that sound?
  • In Hannamanoo.
  • And wherefore that sound?
  • The sound of a hundred hammers,
  • Tapping, tapping, tapping
  • The shark teeth."
  • "Where is that light?
  • Round about the king's house,
  • And the small laughter?
  • The small, merry laughter it is
  • Of the sons and daughters of the tattooed."
  • CHAPTER IX.
  • WE STEER TO THE WESTWARD--STATE OF AFFAIRS
  • THE night we left Hannamanoo was bright and starry, and so warm that,
  • when the watches were relieved, most of the men, instead of going
  • below, flung themselves around the foremast.
  • Toward morning, finding the heat of the forecastle unpleasant, I
  • ascended to the deck where everything was noiseless. The Trades were
  • blowing with a mild, steady strain upon the canvas, and the ship
  • heading right out into the immense blank of the Western Pacific. The
  • watch were asleep. With one foot resting on the rudder, even the man
  • at the helm nodded, and the mate himself, with arms folded, was
  • leaning against the capstan.
  • On such a night, and all alone, reverie was inevitable. I leaned over
  • the side, and could not help thinking of the strange objects we might
  • be sailing over.
  • But my meditations were soon interrupted by a gray, spectral shadow
  • cast over the heaving billows. It was the dawn, soon followed by the
  • first rays of the morning. They flashed into view at one end of the
  • arched night, like--to compare great things with small--the gleamings
  • of Guy Fawkes's lantern in the vaults of the Parliament House.
  • Before long, what seemed a live ember rested for a moment on the rim
  • of the ocean, and at last the blood-red sun stood full and round in
  • the level East, and the long sea-day began.
  • Breakfast over, the first thing attended to was the formal baptism of
  • Wymontoo, who, after thinking over his affairs during the night,
  • looked dismal enough.
  • There were various opinions as to a suitable appellation. Some
  • maintained that we ought to call him "Sunday," that being the day we
  • caught him; others, "Eighteen Forty-two," the then year of our Lord;
  • while Doctor Long Ghost remarked that he ought, by all means, to
  • retain his original name,--Wymontoo-Hee, meaning (as he maintained),
  • in the figurative language of the island, something analogous to one
  • who had got himself into a scrape. The mate put an end to the
  • discussion by sousing the poor fellow with a bucket of salt water,
  • and bestowing upon him the nautical appellation of "Luff."
  • Though a certain mirthfulness succeeded his first pangs at leaving
  • home, Wymontoo--we will call him thus--gradually relapsed into his
  • former mood, and became very melancholy. Often I noticed him
  • crouching apart in the forecastle, his strange eyes gleaming
  • restlessly, and watching the slightest movement of the men. Many a
  • time he must have been thinking of his bamboo hut, when they were
  • talking of Sydney and its dance-houses.
  • We were now fairly at sea, though to what particular cruising-ground
  • we were going, no one knew; and, to all appearances, few cared. The
  • men, after a fashion of their own, began to settle down into the
  • routine of sea-life, as if everything was going on prosperously.
  • Blown along over a smooth sea, there was nothing to do but steer the
  • ship, and relieve the "look-outs" at the mast-heads. As for the sick,
  • they had two or three more added to their number--the air of the
  • island having disagreed with the constitutions of several of the
  • runaways. To crown all, the captain again relapsed, and became quite
  • ill.
  • The men fit for duty were divided into two small watches, headed
  • respectively by the mate and the Mowree; the latter by virtue of his
  • being a harpooner, succeeding to the place of the second mate, who
  • had absconded.
  • In this state of things whaling was out of the question; but in the
  • face of everything, Jermin maintained that the invalids would soon be
  • well. However that might be, with the same pale Hue sky overhead, we
  • kept running steadily to the westward. Forever advancing, we seemed
  • always in the same place, and every day was the former lived over
  • again. We saw no ships, expected to see none. No sign of life was
  • perceptible but the porpoises and other fish sporting under the bows
  • like pups ashore. But, at intervals, the gray albatross, peculiar to
  • these seas, came flapping his immense wings over us, and then skimmed
  • away silently as if from a plague-ship. Or flights of the tropic
  • bird, known among seamen as the "boatswain," wheeled round and round
  • us, whistling shrilly as they flew.
  • The uncertainty hanging over our destination at this time, and the
  • fact that we were abroad upon waters comparatively little traversed,
  • lent an interest to this portion of the cruise which I shall never
  • forget.
  • From obvious prudential considerations the Pacific has been
  • principally sailed over in known tracts, and this is the reason why
  • new islands are still occasionally discovered by exploring ships and
  • adventurous whalers notwithstanding the great number of vessels of
  • all kinds of late navigating this vast ocean. Indeed, considerable
  • portions still remain wholly unexplored; and there is doubt as to the
  • actual existence of certain shoals, and reefs, and small clusters of
  • islands vaguely laid down in the charts. The mere circumstance,
  • therefore, of a ship like ours penetrating into these regions, was
  • sufficient to cause any reflecting mind to feel at least a little
  • uneasy. For my own part, the many stories I had heard of ships
  • striking at midnight upon unknown rocks, with all sail set, and a
  • slumbering crew, often recurred to me, especially, as from the
  • absence of discipline, and our being so shorthanded, the watches at
  • night were careless in the extreme.
  • But no thoughts like these were entertained by my reckless shipmates;
  • and along we went, the sun every evening setting right ahead of our
  • jib boom.
  • For what reason the mate was so reserved with regard to our precise
  • destination was never made known. The stories he told us, I, for one,
  • did not believe; deeming them all a mere device to lull the crew.
  • He said we were bound to a fine cruising ground, scarcely known to
  • other whalemen, which he had himself discovered when commanding a
  • small brig upon a former voyage. Here, the sea was alive with large
  • whales, so tame that all you had to do was to go up and kill them:
  • they were too frightened to resist. A little to leeward of this was a
  • small cluster of islands, where we were going to refit, abounding with
  • delicious fruits, and peopled by a race almost wholly unsophisticated
  • by intercourse with strangers.
  • In order, perhaps, to guard against the possibility of anyone finding
  • out the precise latitude and longitude of the spot we were going to,
  • Jermin never revealed to us the ship's place at noon, though such is
  • the custom aboard of most vessels.
  • Meanwhile, he was very assiduous in his attention to the invalids.
  • Doctor Long Ghost having given up the keys of the medicine-chest,
  • they were handed over to him; and, as physician, he discharged his
  • duties to the satisfaction of all. Pills and powders, in most cases,
  • were thrown to the fish, and in place thereof, the contents of a
  • mysterious little quarter cask were produced, diluted with water from
  • the "butt." His draughts were mixed on the capstan, in cocoa-nut
  • shells marked with the patients' names. Like shore doctors, he did
  • not eschew his own medicines, for his professional calls in the
  • forecastle were sometimes made when he was comfortably tipsy: nor did
  • he omit keeping his invalids in good-humour, spinning his yarns to
  • them, by the hour, whenever he went to see them.
  • Owing to my lameness, from which I soon began to recover, I did no
  • active duty, except standing an occasional "trick" at the helm. It
  • was in the forecastle chiefly, that I spent my time, in company with
  • the Long Doctor, who was at great pains to make himself agreeable.
  • His books, though sadly torn and tattered, were an invaluable
  • resource. I read them through again and again, including a learned
  • treatise on the yellow fever. In addition to these, he had an old
  • file of Sydney papers, and I soon became intimately acquainted with
  • the localities of all the advertising tradesmen there. In particular,
  • the rhetorical flourishes of Stubbs, the real-estate auctioneer,
  • diverted me exceedingly, and I set him down as no other than a pupil
  • of Robins the Londoner.
  • Aside from the pleasure of his society, my intimacy with Long Ghost
  • was of great service to me in other respects. His disgrace in the
  • cabin only confirmed the good-will of the democracy in the
  • forecastle; and they not only treated him in the most friendly
  • manner, but looked up to him with the utmost deference, besides
  • laughing heartily at all his jokes. As his chosen associate, this
  • feeling for him extended to me, and gradually we came to be regarded
  • in the light of distinguished guests. At meal-times we were always
  • first served, and otherwise were treated with much respect.
  • Among other devices to kill time, during the frequent calms, Long
  • Ghost hit upon the game of chess. With a jack-knife, we carved the
  • pieces quite tastefully out of bits of wood, and our board was the
  • middle of a chest-lid, chalked into squares, which, in playing, we
  • straddled at either end. Having no other suitable way of
  • distinguishing the sets, I marked mine by tying round them little
  • scarfs of black silk, torn from an old neck-handkerchief. Putting
  • them in mourning this way, the doctor said, was quite appropriate,
  • seeing that they had reason to feel sad three games out of four. Of
  • chess, the men never could make head nor tail; indeed, their wonder
  • rose to such a pitch that they at last regarded the mysterious
  • movements of the game with something more than perplexity; and after
  • puzzling over them through several long engagements, they came to the
  • conclusion that we must be a couple of necromancers.
  • CHAPTER X.
  • A SEA-PARLOUR DESCRIBED, WITH SOME OF ITS TENANTS
  • I MIGHT as well give some idea of the place in which the doctor and I
  • lived together so sociably.
  • Most persons know that a ship's forecastle embraces the forward part
  • of the deck about the bowsprit: the same term, however, is generally
  • bestowed upon the sailors' sleeping-quarters, which occupy a space
  • immediately beneath, and are partitioned off by a bulkhead.
  • Planted right in the bows, or, as sailors say, in the very eyes of the
  • ship, this delightful apartment is of a triangular shape, and is
  • generally fitted with two tiers of rude bunks. Those of the Julia
  • were in a most deplorable condition, mere wrecks, some having been
  • torn down altogether to patch up others; and on one side there were
  • but two standing. But with most of the men it made little difference
  • whether they had a bunk or not, since, having no bedding, they had
  • nothing to put in it but themselves.
  • Upon the boards of my own crib I spread all the old canvas and old
  • clothes I could pick up. For a pillow, I wrapped an old jacket round
  • a log. This helped a little the wear and tear of one's bones when the
  • ship rolled.
  • Rude hammocks made out of old sails were in many cases used as
  • substitutes for the demolished bunks; but the space they swung in was
  • so confined that they were far from being agreeable.
  • The general aspect of the forecastle was dungeon-like and dingy in the
  • extreme. In the first place, it was not five feet from deck to deck
  • and even this space was encroached upon by two outlandish
  • cross-timbers bracing the vessel, and by the sailors' chests, over
  • which you must needs crawl in getting about. At meal-times, and
  • especially when we indulged in after-dinner chat, we sat about the
  • chests like a parcel of tailors.
  • In the middle of all were two square, wooden columns, denominated in
  • marine architecture "Bowsprit Bitts." They were about a foot apart,
  • and between them, by a rusty chain, swung the forecastle lamp,
  • burning day and night, and forever casting two long black shadows.
  • Lower down, between the bitts, was a locker, or sailors' pantry, kept
  • in abominable disorder, and sometimes requiring a vigorous cleaning
  • and fumigation.
  • All over, the ship was in a most dilapidated condition; but in the
  • forecastle it looked like the hollow of an old tree going to decay.
  • In every direction the wood was damp and discoloured, and here and
  • there soft and porous. Moreover, it was hacked and hewed without
  • mercy, the cook frequently helping himself to splinters for
  • kindling-wood from the bitts and beams. Overhead, every carline was
  • sooty, and here and there deep holes were burned in them, a freak of
  • some drunken sailors on a voyage long previous.
  • From above, you entered by a plank, with two elects, slanting down
  • from the scuttle, which was a mere hole in the deck. There being no
  • slide to draw over in case of emergency, the tarpaulin temporarily
  • placed there was little protection from the spray heaved over the
  • bows; so that in anything of a breeze the place was miserably wet.
  • In a squall, the water fairly poured down in sheets like a cascade,
  • swashing about, and afterward spirting up between the chests like the
  • jets of a fountain.
  • Such were our accommodations aboard of the Julia; but bad as they
  • were, we had not the undisputed possession of them. Myriads of
  • cockroaches, and regiments of rats disputed the place with us. A
  • greater calamity than this can scarcely befall a vessel in the South
  • Seas.
  • So warm is the climate that it is almost impossible to get rid of
  • them. You may seal up every hatchway, and fumigate the hull till the
  • smoke forces itself out at the seams, and enough will survive to
  • repeople the ship in an incredibly short period. In some vessels, the
  • crews of which after a hard fight have given themselves up, as it
  • were, for lost, the vermin seem to take actual possession, the
  • sailors being mere tenants by sufferance. With Sperm Whalemen,
  • hanging about the Line, as many of them do for a couple of years on a
  • stretch, it is infinitely worse than with other vessels.
  • As for the Julia, these creatures never had such free and easy times
  • as they did in her crazy old hull; every chink and cranny swarmed
  • with them; they did not live among you, but you among them. So true
  • was this, that the business of eating and drinking was better done in
  • the dark than in the light of day.
  • Concerning the cockroaches, there was an extraordinary phenomenon, for
  • which none of us could ever account.
  • Every night they had a jubilee. The first symptom was an unusual
  • clustering and humming among the swarms lining the beams overhead,
  • and the inside of the sleeping-places. This was succeeded by a
  • prodigious coming and going on the part of those living out of sight
  • Presently they all came forth; the larger sort racing over the chests
  • and planks; winged monsters darting to and fro in the air; and the
  • small fry buzzing in heaps almost in a state of fusion.
  • On the first alarm, all who were able darted on deck; while some of
  • the sick who were too feeble, lay perfectly quiet--the distracted
  • vermin running over them at pleasure. The performance lasted some
  • ten minutes, during which no hive ever hummed louder. Often it was
  • lamented by us that the time of the visitation could never be
  • predicted; it was liable to come upon us at any hour of the night, and
  • what a relief it was, when it happened to fall in the early part of
  • the evening.
  • Nor must I forget the rats: they did not forget me. Tame as Trenck's
  • mouse, they stood in their holes peering at you like old grandfathers
  • in a doorway. Often they darted in upon us at meal-times, and nibbled
  • our food. The first time they approached Wymontoo, he was actually
  • frightened; but becoming accustomed to it, he soon got along with
  • them much better than the rest. With curious dexterity he seized the
  • animals by their legs, and flung them up the scuttle to find a watery
  • grave.
  • But I have a story of my own to tell about these rats. One day the
  • cabin steward made me a present of some molasses, which I was so
  • choice of that I kept it hid away in a tin can in the farthest corner
  • of my bunk.. Faring as we did, this molasses dropped upon a biscuit
  • was a positive luxury, which I shared with none but the doctor, and
  • then only in private. And sweet as the treacle was, how could bread
  • thus prepared and eaten in secret be otherwise than pleasant?
  • One night our precious can ran low, and in canting it over in the
  • dark, something beside the molasses slipped out. How long it had been
  • there, kind Providence never revealed; nor were we over anxious to
  • know; for we hushed up the bare thought as quickly as possible. The
  • creature certainly died a luscious death, quite equal to Clarence's
  • in the butt of Malmsey.
  • CHAPTER XI.
  • DOCTOR LONG GHOST A WAG--ONE OF HIS CAPERS
  • GRAVE though he was at times, Doctor Long Ghost was a decided wag.
  • Everyone knows what lovers of fun sailors are ashore--afloat, they are
  • absolutely mad after it. So his pranks were duly appreciated.
  • The poor old black cook! Unlashing his hammock for the night, and
  • finding a wet log fast asleep in it; and then waking in the morning
  • with his woolly head tarred. Opening his coppers, and finding an old
  • boot boiling away as saucy as could be, and sometimes cakes of pitch
  • candying in his oven.
  • Baltimore's tribulations were indeed sore; there was no peace for him
  • day nor night. Poor fellow! he was altogether too good-natured. Say
  • what they will about easy-tempered people, it is far better, on some
  • accounts, to have the temper of a wolf. Whoever thought of taking
  • liberties with gruff Black Dan?
  • The most curious of the doctor's jokes, was hoisting the men aloft by
  • the foot or shoulder, when they fell asleep on deck during the
  • night-watches.
  • Ascending from the forecastle on one occasion, he found every soul
  • napping, and forthwith went about his capers. Fastening a rope's end
  • to each sleeper, he rove the lines through a number of blocks, and
  • conducted them all to the windlass; then, by heaving round cheerily,
  • in spite of cries and struggles, he soon had them dangling aloft in
  • all directions by arms and legs. Waked by the uproar, we rushed up
  • from below, and found the poor fellows swinging in the moonlight from
  • the tops and lower yard-arms, like a parcel of pirates gibbeted at
  • sea by a cruiser.
  • Connected with this sort of diversion was another prank of his. During
  • the night some of those on deck would come below to light a pipe, or
  • take a mouthful of beef and biscuit. Sometimes they fell asleep; and
  • being missed directly that anything was to be done, their shipmates
  • often amused themselves by running them aloft with a pulley dropped
  • down the scuttle from the fore-top.
  • One night, when all was perfectly still, I lay awake in the
  • forecastle; the lamp was burning low and thick, and swinging from its
  • blackened beam; and with the uniform motion of the ship, the men in
  • the bunks rolled slowly from side to side; the hammocks swaying in
  • unison.
  • Presently I heard a foot upon the ladder, and looking up, saw a wide
  • trousers' leg. Immediately, Navy Bob, a stout old Triton, stealthily
  • descended, and at once went to groping in the locker after something
  • to eat.
  • Supper ended, he proceeded to load his pipe. Now, for a good
  • comfortable smoke at sea, there never was a better place than the
  • Julia's forecastle at midnight. To enjoy the luxury, one wants to
  • fall into a kind of dreamy reverie, only known to the children of the
  • weed. And the very atmosphere of the place, laden as it was with the
  • snores of the sleepers, was inducive of this. No wonder, then, that
  • after a while Bob's head sunk upon his breast; presently his hat fell
  • off, the extinguished pipe dropped from his mouth, and the next
  • moment he lay out on the chest as tranquil as an infant.
  • Suddenly an order was heard on deck, followed by the trampling of feet
  • and the hauling of rigging. The yards were being braced, and soon
  • after the sleeper was missed: for there was a whispered conference
  • over the scuttle.
  • Directly a shadow glided across the forecastle and noiselessly
  • approached the unsuspecting Bob. It was one of the watch with the end
  • of a rope leading out of sight up the scuttle. Pausing an instant,
  • the sailor pressed softly the chest of his victim, sounding his
  • slumbers; and then hitching the cord to his ankle, returned to the
  • deck.
  • Hardly was his back turned, when a long limb was thrust from a hammock
  • opposite, and Doctor Long Ghost, leaping forth warily, whipped the
  • rope from Bob's ankle, and fastened it like lightning to a great
  • lumbering chest, the property of the man who had just disappeared.
  • Scarcely was the thing done, when lo! with a thundering bound, the
  • clumsy box was torn from its fastenings, and banging from side to
  • side, flew toward the scuttle. Here it jammed; and thinking that Bob,
  • who was as strong as a windlass, was grappling a beam and trying to
  • cut the line, the jokers on deck strained away furiously. On a
  • sudden, the chest went aloft, and striking against the mast, flew
  • open, raining down on the heads of a party the merciless shower of
  • things too numerous to mention.
  • Of course the uproar roused all hands, and when we hurried on deck,
  • there was the owner of the box, looking aghast at its scattered
  • contents, and with one wandering hand taking the altitude of a bump
  • on his head.
  • CHAPTER XII.
  • DEATH AND BURIAL OF TWO OF THE CREW
  • THE mirthfulness which at times reigned among us was in strange and
  • shocking contrast with the situation of some of the invalids. Thus at
  • least did it seem to me, though not to others.
  • But an event occurred about this period, which, in removing by far the
  • most pitiable cases of suffering, tended to make less grating to my
  • feelings the subsequent conduct of the crew.
  • We had been at sea about twenty days, when two of the sick who had
  • rapidly grown worse, died one night within an hour of each other.
  • One occupied a bunk right next to mine, and for several days had not
  • risen from it. During this period he was often delirious, starting
  • up and glaring around him, and sometimes wildly tossing his arms.
  • On the night of his decease, I retired shortly after the middle watch
  • began, and waking from a vague dream of horrors, felt something
  • clammy resting on me. It was the sick man's hand. Two or three times
  • during the evening previous, he had thrust it into my bunk, and I had
  • quietly removed it; but now I started and flung it from me. The arm
  • fell stark and stiff, and I knew that he was dead.
  • Waking the men, the corpse was immediately rolled up in the strips of
  • blanketing upon which it lay, and carried on deck. The mate was then
  • called, and preparations made for an instantaneous' burial. Laying
  • the body out on the forehatch, it was stitched up in one of the
  • hammocks, some "kentledge" being placed at the feet instead of shot.
  • This done, it was borne to the gangway, and placed on a plank laid
  • across the bulwarks. Two men supported the inside end. By way of
  • solemnity, the ship's headway was then stopped by hauling aback the
  • main-top-sail.
  • The mate, who was far from being sober, then staggered up, and holding
  • on to a shroud, gave the word. As the plank tipped, the body slid off
  • slowly, and fell with a splash into the sea. A bubble or two, and
  • nothing more was seen.
  • "Brace forward!" The main-yard swung round to its place, and the ship
  • glided on, whilst the corpse, perhaps, was still sinking.
  • We had tossed a shipmate to the sharks, but no one would have thought
  • it, to have gone among the crew immediately after. The dead man had
  • been a churlish, unsocial fellow, while alive, and no favourite; and
  • now that he was no more, little thought was bestowed upon him. All
  • that was said was concerning the disposal of his chest, which, having
  • been always kept locked, was supposed to contain money. Someone
  • volunteered to break it open, and distribute its contents, clothing
  • and all, before the captain should demand it.
  • While myself and others were endeavouring to dissuade them from this,
  • all started at a cry from the forecastle. There could be no one there
  • but two of the sick, unable to crawl on deck. We went below, and
  • found one of them dying on a chest. He had fallen out of his hammock
  • in a fit, and was insensible. The eyes were open and fixed, and his
  • breath coming and going convulsively. The men shrunk from him; but
  • the doctor, taking his hand, held it a few moments in his, and
  • suddenly letting it fall, exclaimed, "He's gone!" The body was
  • instantly borne up the ladder.
  • Another hammock was soon prepared, and the dead sailor stitched up as
  • before. Some additional ceremony, however, was now insisted upon,
  • and a Bible was called for. But none was to be had, not even a Prayer
  • Book. When this was made known, Antone, a Portuguese, from the
  • Cape-de-Verd Islands, stepped up, muttering something over the corpse
  • of his countryman, and, with his finger, described upon the back of
  • the hammock the figure of a large cross; whereupon it received the
  • death-launch.
  • These two men both perished from the proverbial indiscretions of
  • seamen, heightened by circumstances apparent; but had either of them
  • been ashore under proper treatment, he would, in all human
  • probability, have recovered.
  • Behold here the fate of a sailor! They give him the last toss, and no
  • one asks whose child he was.
  • For the rest of that night there was no more sleep. Many stayed on
  • deck until broad morning, relating to each other those marvellous
  • tales of the sea which the occasion was calculated to call forth.
  • Little as I believed in such things, I could not listen to some of
  • these stories unaffected. Above all was I struck by one of the
  • carpenter's.
  • On a voyage to India, they had a fever aboard, which carried off
  • nearly half the crew in the space of a few days. After this the men
  • never went aloft in the night-time, except in couples. When topsails
  • were to be reefed, phantoms were seen at the yard-arm ends; and in
  • tacking ship, voices called aloud from the tops. The carpenter
  • himself, going with another man to furl the main-top-gallant-sail in a
  • squall, was nearly pushed from the rigging by an unseen hand; and his
  • shipmate swore that a wet hammock was flirted in his face.
  • Stories like these were related as gospel truths, by those who
  • declared themselves eye-witnesses.
  • It is a circumstance not generally known, perhaps, that among ignorant
  • seamen, Philanders, or Finns, as they are more commonly called, are
  • regarded with peculiar superstition. For some reason or other, which
  • I never could get at, they are supposed to possess the gift of second
  • sight, and the power to wreak supernatural vengeance upon those who
  • offend them. On this account they have great influence among sailors,
  • and two or three with whom I have sailed at different times were
  • persons well calculated to produce this sort of impression, at least
  • upon minds disposed to believe in such things.
  • Now, we had one of these sea-prophets aboard; an old, yellow-haired
  • fellow, who always wore a rude seal-skin cap of his own make, and
  • carried his tobacco in a large pouch made of the same stuff. Van, as
  • we called him, was a quiet, inoffensive man, to look at, and, among
  • such a set, his occasional peculiarities had hitherto passed for
  • nothing. At this time, however, he came out with a prediction, which
  • was none the less remarkable from its absolute fulfilment, though not
  • exactly in the spirit in which it was given out.
  • The night of the burial he laid his hand on the old horseshoe nailed
  • as a charm to the foremast, and solemnly told us that, in less than
  • three weeks, not one quarter of our number would remain aboard the
  • ship--by that time they would have left her for ever.
  • Some laughed; Flash Jack called him an old fool; but among the men
  • generally it produced a marked effect. For several days a degree of
  • quiet reigned among us, and allusions of such a kind were made to
  • recent events, as could be attributed to no other cause than the
  • Finn's omen.
  • For my own part, what had lately come to pass was not without its
  • influence. It forcibly brought to mind our really critical condition.
  • Doctor Long Ghost, too, frequently revealed his apprehensions, and
  • once assured me that he would give much to be safely landed upon any
  • island around us.
  • Where we were, exactly, no one but the mate seemed to know, nor
  • whither we were going. The captain--a mere cipher--was an invalid in
  • his cabin; to say nothing more of so many of his men languishing in
  • the forecastle.
  • Our keeping the sea under these circumstances, a matter strange enough
  • at first, now seemed wholly unwarranted; and added to all was the
  • thought that our fate was absolutely in the hand of the reckless
  • Jermin. Were anything to happen to him, we would be left without a
  • navigator, for, according to Jermin himself, he had, from the
  • commencement of the voyage, always kept the ship's reckoning, the
  • captain's nautical knowledge being insufficient.
  • But considerations like these, strange as it may seem, seldom or never
  • occurred to the crew. They were alive only to superstitious fears;
  • and when, in apparent contradiction to the Finn's prophecy, the sick
  • men rallied a little, they began to recover their former spirits, and
  • the recollection of what had occurred insensibly faded from their
  • minds. In a week's time, the unworthiness of Little Jule as a sea
  • vessel, always a subject of jest, now became more so than ever. In the
  • forecastle, Flash Jack, with his knife, often dug into the dank,
  • rotten planks ribbed between us and death, and flung away the
  • splinters with some sea joke.
  • As to the remaining invalids, they were hardly ill enough to occasion
  • any serious apprehension, at least for the present, in the breasts of
  • such thoughtless beings as themselves. And even those who suffered
  • the most, studiously refrained from any expression of pain.
  • The truth is, that among sailors as a class, sickness at sea is so
  • heartily detested, and the sick so little cared for, that the
  • greatest invalid generally strives to mask his sufferings. He has
  • given no sympathy to others, and he expects none in return. Their
  • conduct, in this respect, so opposed to their generous-hearted
  • behaviour ashore, painfully affects the landsman on his first
  • intercourse with them as a sailor.
  • Sometimes, but seldom, our invalids inveighed against their being kept
  • at sea, where they could be of no service, when they ought to be
  • ashore and in the way of recovery. But--"Oh! cheer up--cheer up, my
  • hearties!"--the mate would say. And after this fashion he put a stop
  • to their murmurings.
  • But there was one circumstance, to which heretofore I have but barely
  • alluded, that tended more than anything else to reconcile many to
  • their situation. This was the receiving regularly, twice every day, a
  • certain portion of Pisco, which was served out at the capstan, by the
  • steward, in little tin measures called "tots."
  • The lively affection seamen have for strong drink is well known; but
  • in the South Seas, where it is so seldom to be had, a thoroughbred
  • sailor deems scarcely any price too dear which will purchase his
  • darling "tot." Nowadays, American whalemen in the Pacific never think
  • of carrying spirits as a ration; and aboard of most of them, it is
  • never served out even in times of the greatest hardships. All Sydney
  • whalemen, however, still cling to the old custom, and carry it as a
  • part of the regular supplies for the voyage.
  • In port, the allowance of Pisco was suspended; with a view,
  • undoubtedly, of heightening the attractions of being out of sight of
  • land.
  • Now, owing to the absence of proper discipline, our sick, in addition
  • to what they took medicinally, often came in for their respective
  • "tots" convivially; and, added to all this, the evening of the last
  • day of the week was always celebrated by what is styled on board of
  • English vessels "The Saturday-night bottles." Two of these were sent
  • down into the forecastle, just after dark; one for the starboard
  • watch, and the other for the larboard.
  • By prescription, the oldest seaman in each claims the treat as his,
  • and, accordingly, pours out the good cheer and passes it round like a
  • lord doing the honours of his table. But the Saturday-night bottles
  • were not all. The carpenter and cooper, in sea parlance, Chips and
  • Bungs, who were the "Cods," or leaders of the forecastle, in some way
  • or other, managed to obtain an extra supply, which perpetually kept
  • them in fine after-dinner spirits, and, moreover, disposed them to
  • look favourably upon a state of affairs like the present.
  • But where were the sperm whales all this time? In good sooth, it made
  • little matter where they were, since we were in no condition to
  • capture them. About this time, indeed, the men came down from the
  • mast-heads, where, until now, they had kept up the form of relieving
  • each other every two hours. They swore they would go there no more.
  • Upon this, the mate carelessly observed that they would soon be where
  • look-outs were entirely unnecessary, the whales he had in his eye
  • (though Flash Jack said they were all in his) being so tame that they
  • made a practice of coming round ships, and scratching their backs
  • against them.
  • Thus went the world of waters with us, some four weeks or more after
  • leaving Hannamanoo.
  • CHAPTER XIII.
  • OUR DESTINATION CHANGED
  • IT was not long after the death of the two men, that Captain Guy was
  • reported as fast declining, and in a day or two more, as dying. The
  • doctor, who previously had refused to enter the cabin upon any
  • consideration, now relented, and paid his old enemy a professional
  • visit.
  • He prescribed a warm bath, which was thus prepared. The skylight being
  • removed, a cask was lowered down into the cabin, and then filled with
  • buckets of water from the ship's coppers. The cries of the patient,
  • when dipped into his rude bath, were most painful to hear. They at
  • last laid him on the transom, more dead than alive.
  • That evening, the mate was perfectly sober, and coming forward to the
  • windlass, where we were lounging, summoned aft the doctor, myself,
  • and two or three others of his favourites; when, in the presence of
  • Bembo the Mowree, he spoke to us thus:
  • "I have something to say to ye, men. There's none but Bembo here as
  • belongs aft, so I've picked ye out as the best men for'ard to take
  • counsel with, d'ye see, consarning the ship. The captain's anchor is
  • pretty nigh atrip; I shouldn't wonder if he croaked afore morning. So
  • what's to be done? If we have to sew him up, some of those pirates
  • there for'ard may take it into their heads to run off with the ship,
  • because there's no one at the tiller. Now, I've detarmined what's
  • best to be done; but I don't want to do it unless I've good men to
  • back me, and make things all fair and square if ever we get home
  • again."
  • We all asked what his plan was.
  • "I'll tell ye what it is, men. If the skipper dies, all agree to obey
  • my orders, and in less than three weeks I'll engage to have five
  • hundred barrels of sperm oil under hatches: enough to give every
  • mother's son of ye a handful of dollars when we get to Sydney. If ye
  • don't agree to this, ye won't have a farthing coming to ye."
  • Doctor Long Ghost at once broke in. He said that such a thing was not
  • to be dreamt of; that if the captain died, the mate was in duty bound
  • to navigate the ship to the nearest civilized port, and deliver her
  • up into an English consul's hands; when, in all probability, after a
  • run ashore, the crew would be sent home. Everything forbade the
  • mate's plan. "Still," said he, assuming an air of indifference, "if
  • the men say stick it out, stick it out say I; but in that case, the
  • sooner we get to those islands of yours the better."
  • Something more he went on to say; and from the manner in which the
  • rest regarded him, it was plain that our fate was in his hands. It
  • was finally resolved upon, that if Captain Guy was no better in
  • twenty-four hours, the ship's head should be pointed for the island
  • of Tahiti.
  • This announcement produced a strong sensation--the sick rallied--and
  • the rest speculated as to what was next to befall us; while the
  • doctor, without alluding to Guy, congratulated me upon the prospect
  • of soon beholding a place so famous as the island in question.
  • The night after the holding of the council, I happened to go on deck
  • in the middle watch, and found the yards braced sharp up on the
  • larboard tack, with the South East Trades strong on our bow. The
  • captain was no better; and we were off for Tahiti.
  • CHAPTER XIV.
  • ROPE YARN
  • WHILE gliding along on our way, I cannot well omit some account of a
  • poor devil we had among us, who went by the name of Rope Yarn, or
  • Ropey.
  • He was a nondescript who had joined the ship as a landsman. Being so
  • excessively timid and awkward, it was thought useless to try and make
  • a sailor of him; so he was translated into the cabin as steward; the
  • man previously filling that post, a good seaman, going among the crew
  • and taking his place. But poor Ropey proved quite as clumsy among the
  • crockery as in the rigging; and one day when the ship was pitching,
  • having stumbled into the cabin with a wooden tureen of soup, he
  • scalded the officers so that they didn't get over it in a week. Upon
  • which, he was dismissed, and returned to the forecastle.
  • Now, nobody is so heartily despised as a pusillanimous, lazy,
  • good-for-nothing land-lubber; a sailor has no bowels of compassion
  • for him. Yet, useless as such a character may be in many respects, a
  • ship's company is by no means disposed to let him reap any benefit
  • from his deficiencies. Regarded in the light of a mechanical power,
  • whenever there is any plain, hard work to be done, he is put to it
  • like a lever; everyone giving him a pry.
  • Then, again, he is set about all the vilest work. Is there a heavy job
  • at tarring to be done, he is pitched neck and shoulders into a
  • tar-barrel, and set to work at it. Moreover, he is made to fetch and
  • carry like a dog. Like as not, if the mate sends him after his
  • quadrant, on the way he is met by the captain, who orders him to pick
  • some oakum; and while he is hunting up a bit of rope, a sailor comes
  • along and wants to know what the deuce he's after, and bids him be
  • off to the forecastle.
  • "Obey the last order," is a precept inviolable at sea. So the
  • land-lubber, afraid to refuse to do anything, rushes about
  • distracted, and does nothing: in the end receiving a shower of kicks
  • and cuffs from all quarters.
  • Added to his other hardships, he is seldom permitted to open his mouth
  • unless spoken to; and then, he might better keep silent. Alas for
  • him! if he should happen to be anything of a droll; for in an evil
  • hour should he perpetrate a joke, he would never know the last of it.
  • The witticisms of others, however, upon himself, must be received in
  • the greatest good-humour.
  • Woe be unto him, if at meal-times he so much as look sideways at the
  • beef-kid before the rest are helped.
  • Then he is obliged to plead guilty to every piece of mischief which
  • the real perpetrator refuses to acknowledge; thus taking the place of
  • that sneaking rascal nobody, ashore. In short, there is no end to his
  • tribulations.
  • The land-lubber's spirits often sink, and the first result of his
  • being moody and miserable is naturally enough an utter neglect of his
  • toilet.
  • The sailors perhaps ought to make allowances; but heartless as they
  • are, they do not. No sooner is his cleanliness questioned than they
  • rise upon him like a mob of the Middle Ages upon a Jew; drag him into
  • the lee-scuppers, and strip him to the buff. In vain he bawls for
  • mercy; in vain calls upon the captain to save him.
  • Alas! I say again, for the land-lubber at sea. He is the veriest
  • wretch the watery world over. And such was Rope Tarn; of all
  • landlubbers, the most lubberly and most miserable. A forlorn,
  • stunted, hook-visaged mortal he was too; one of those whom you know
  • at a glance to have been tried hard and long in the furnace of
  • affliction. His face was an absolute puzzle; though sharp and sallow,
  • it had neither the wrinkles of age nor the smoothness of youth; so
  • that for the soul of me, I could hardly tell whether he was
  • twenty-five or fifty.
  • But to his history. In his better days, it seems he had been a
  • journeyman baker in London, somewhere about Holborn; and on Sundays
  • wore a Hue coat and metal buttons, and spent his afternoons in a
  • tavern, smoking his pipe and drinking his ale like a free and easy
  • journeyman baker that he was. But this did not last long; for an
  • intermeddling old fool was the ruin of him. He was told that London
  • might do very well for elderly gentlemen and invalids; but for a lad
  • of spirit, Australia was the Land of Promise. In a dark day Ropey
  • wound up his affairs and embarked.
  • Arriving in Sydney with a small capital, and after a while waxing snug
  • and comfortable by dint of hard kneading, he took unto himself a
  • wife; and so far as she was concerned, might then have gone into the
  • country and retired; for she effectually did his business. In short,
  • the lady worked him woe in heart and pocket; and in the end, ran off
  • with his till and his foreman. Ropey went to the sign of the Pipe and
  • Tankard; got fuddled; and over his fifth pot meditated suicide--an
  • intention carried out; for the next day he shipped as landsman aboard
  • the Julia, South Seaman.
  • The ex-baker would have fared far better, had it not been for his
  • heart, which was soft and underdone. A kind word made a fool of him;
  • and hence most of the scrapes he got into. Two or three wags, aware
  • of his infirmity, used to "draw him out" in conversation whenever the
  • most crabbed and choleric old seamen were present.
  • To give an instance. The watch below, just waked from their sleep, are
  • all at breakfast; and Ropey, in one corner, is disconsolately
  • partaking of its delicacies. "Now, sailors newly waked are no
  • cherubs; and therefore not a word is spoken, everybody munching his
  • biscuit, grim and unshaven. At this juncture an affable-looking
  • scamp--Flash Jack--crosses the forecastle, tin can in hand, and seats
  • himself beside the land-lubber.
  • "Hard fare this, Ropey," he begins; "hard enough, too, for them that's
  • known better and lived in Lun'nun. I say now, Ropey, s'posing you
  • were back to Holborn this morning, what would you have for breakfast,
  • eh?"
  • "Have for breakfast!" cried Ropey in a rapture. "Don't speak of it!"
  • "What ails that fellow?" here growled an old sea-bear, turning round
  • savagely.
  • "Oh, nothing, nothing," said Jack; and then, leaning over to Rope
  • Yarn, he bade him go on, but speak lower.
  • "Well, then," said he, in a smuggled tone, his eyes lighting up like
  • two lanterns, "well, then, I'd go to Mother Moll's that makes the
  • great muffins: I'd go there, you know, and cock my foot on the 'ob,
  • and call for a noggin o' somethink to begin with."
  • "What then, Ropey?"
  • "Why then, Flashy," continued the poor victim, unconsciously warming
  • with his theme: "why then, I'd draw my chair up and call for Betty,
  • the gal wot tends to customers. Betty, my dear, says I, you looks
  • charmin' this mornin'; give me a nice rasher of bacon and h'eggs,
  • Betty my love; and I wants a pint of h'ale, and three nice h'ot
  • muffins and butter--and a slice of Cheshire; and Betty, I wants--"
  • "A shark-steak, and be hanged to you!" roared Black Dan, with an oath.
  • Whereupon, dragged over the chests, the ill-starred fellow is
  • pummelled on deck.
  • I always made a point of befriending poor Ropey when I could; and, for
  • this reason, was a great favourite of his.
  • CHAPTER XV.
  • CHIPS AND BUNGS
  • BOUND into port, Chips and Bungs increased their devotion to the
  • bottle; and, to the unspeakable envy of the rest, these jolly
  • companions--or "the Partners," as the men called them--rolled about
  • deck, day after day, in the merriest mood imaginable.
  • But jolly as they were in the main, two more discreet tipplers it
  • would be hard to find. No one ever saw them take anything, except
  • when the regular allowance was served out by the steward; and to make
  • them quite sober and sensible, you had only to ask them how they
  • contrived to keep otherwise. Some time after, however, their secret
  • leaked out.
  • The casks of Pisco were kept down the after-hatchway, which, for this
  • reason, was secured with bar and padlock. The cooper, nevertheless,
  • from time to time, effected a burglarious entry, by descending into
  • the fore-hold; and then, at the risk of being jammed to death,
  • crawling along over a thousand obstructions, to where the casks were
  • stowed.
  • On the first expedition, the only one to be got at lay among others,
  • upon its bilge with the bung-hole well over. With a bit of iron hoop,
  • suitably bent, and a good deal of prying and punching, the bung was
  • forced in; and then the cooper's neck-handkerchief, attached to the
  • end of the hoop, was drawn in and out--the absorbed liquor being
  • deliberately squeezed into a small bucket.
  • Bungs was a man after a barkeeper's own heart. Drinking steadily,
  • until just manageably tipsy, he contrived to continue so; getting
  • neither more nor less inebriated, but, to use his own phrase,
  • remaining "just about right." When in this interesting state, he had
  • a free lurch in his gait, a queer way of hitching up his waistbands,
  • looked unnecessarily steady at you when speaking, and for the rest,
  • was in very tolerable spirits. At these times, moreover, he was
  • exceedingly patriotic; and in a most amusing way, frequently showed
  • his patriotism whenever he happened to encounter Dunk, a
  • good-natured, square-faced Dane, aboard.
  • It must be known here, by the bye, that the cooper had a true sailor
  • admiration for Lord Nelson. But he entertained a very erroneous idea
  • of the personal appearance of the hero. Not content with depriving
  • him of an eye and an arm, he stoutly maintained that he had also lost
  • a leg in one of his battles. Under this impression, he sometimes
  • hopped up to Dunk with one leg curiously locked behind him into his
  • right arm, at the same time closing an eye.
  • In this attitude he would call upon him to look up, and behold the man
  • who gave his countrymen such a thrashing at Copenhagen. "Look you,
  • Dunk," says he, staggering about, and winking hard with one eye to
  • keep the other shut, "Look you; one man--hang me, half a man--with
  • one leg, one arm, one eye--hang me, with only a piece of a carcase,
  • flogged your whole shabby nation. Do you deny it you lubber?"
  • The Dane was a mule of a man, and understanding but little English,
  • seldom made anything of a reply; so the cooper generally dropped his
  • leg, and marched off, with the air of a man who despised saying
  • anything further.
  • CHAPTER XVI.
  • WE ENCOUNTER A GALE
  • THE mild blue weather we enjoyed after leaving the Marquesas gradually
  • changed as we ran farther south and approached Tahiti. In these
  • generally tranquil seas, the wind sometimes blows with great
  • violence; though, as every sailor knows, a spicy gale in the tropic
  • latitudes of the Pacific is far different from a tempest in the
  • howling North Atlantic. We soon found ourselves battling with the
  • waves, while the before mild Trades, like a woman roused, blew
  • fiercely, but still warmly, in our face.
  • For all this, the mate carried sail without stint; and as for brave
  • little Jule, she stood up to it well; and though once in a while
  • floored in the trough of a sea, sprang to her keel again and showed
  • play. Every old timber groaned--every spar buckled--every chafed cord
  • strained; and yet, spite of all, she plunged on her way like a racer.
  • Jermin, sea-jockey that he was, sometimes stood in the fore-chains,
  • with the spray every now and then dashing over him, and shouting out,
  • "Well done, Jule--dive into it, sweetheart. Hurrah!"
  • One afternoon there was a mighty queer noise aloft, which set the men
  • running in every direction. It was the main-t'-gallant-mast. Crash!
  • it broke off just above the cap, and held there by the rigging,
  • dashed with every roll from side to side, with all the hamper that
  • belonged to it. The yard hung by a hair, and at every pitch, thumped
  • against the cross-trees; while the sail streamed in ribbons, and the
  • loose ropes coiled, and thrashed the air, like whip-lashes. "Stand
  • from under!" and down came the rattling blocks, like so many shot.
  • The yard, with a snap and a plunge, went hissing into the sea,
  • disappeared, and shot its full length out again. The crest of a great
  • wave then broke over it--the ship rushed by--and we saw the stick no
  • more.
  • While this lively breeze continued, Baltimore, our old black cook, was
  • in great tribulation.
  • Like most South Seamen, the Julia's "caboose," or cook-house, was
  • planted on the larboard side of the forecastle. Under such a press of
  • canvas, and with the heavy sea running the barque, diving her bows
  • under, now and then shipped green glassy waves, which, breaking over
  • the head-rails, fairly deluged that part of the ship, and washed
  • clean aft. The caboose-house--thought to be fairly lashed down to its
  • place--served as a sort of breakwater to the inundation.
  • About these times, Baltimore always wore what he called his "gale
  • suit," among other things comprising a Sou'-wester and a huge pair of
  • well-anointed sea-boots, reaching almost to his knees. Thus equipped
  • for a ducking or a drowning, as the case might be, our culinary
  • high-priest drew to the slides of his temple, and performed his sooty
  • rites in secret.
  • So afraid was the old man of being washed overboard that he actually
  • fastened one end of a small line to his waistbands, and coiling the
  • rest about him, made use of it as occasion required. When engaged
  • outside, he unwound the cord, and secured one end to a ringbolt in
  • the deck; so that if a chance sea washed him off his feet, it could
  • do nothing more.
  • One evening just as he was getting supper, the Julia reared up on her
  • stern like a vicious colt, and when she settled again forward, fairly
  • dished a tremendous sea. Nothing could withstand it. One side of the
  • rotten head-bulwarks came in with a crash; it smote the caboose, tore
  • it from its moorings, and after boxing it about, dashed it against
  • the windlass, where it stranded. The water then poured along the deck
  • like a flood rolling over and over, pots, pans, and kettles, and even
  • old Baltimore himself, who went breaching along like a porpoise.
  • Striking the taffrail, the wave subsided, and washing from side to
  • side, left the drowning cook high and dry on the after-hatch: his
  • extinguished pipe still between his teeth, and almost bitten in two.
  • The few men on deck having sprung into the main-rigging, sailor-like,
  • did nothing but roar at his calamity.
  • The same night, our flying-jib-boom snapped off like a pipe-stem, and
  • our spanker-gaff came down by the run.
  • By the following morning, the wind in a great measure had gone down;
  • the sea with it; and by noon we had repaired our damages as well as
  • we could, and were sailing along as pleasantly as ever.
  • But there was no help for the demolished bulwarks; we had nothing to
  • replace them; and so, whenever it breezed again, our dauntless craft
  • went along with her splintered prow dripping, but kicking up her
  • fleet heels just as high as before.
  • CHAPTER XVII.
  • THE CORAL ISLANDS
  • HOW far we sailed to the westward after leaving the Marquesas, or what
  • might have been our latitude and longitude at any particular time, or
  • how many leagues we voyaged on our passage to Tahiti, are matters
  • about which, I am sorry to say, I cannot with any accuracy enlighten
  • the reader. Jermin, as navigator, kept our reckoning; and, as hinted
  • before, kept it all to himself. At noon, he brought out his quadrant,
  • a rusty old thing, so odd-looking that it might have belonged to an
  • astrologer.
  • Sometimes, when rather flustered from his potations, he went
  • staggering about deck, instrument to eye, looking all over for the
  • sun--a phenomenon which any sober observer might have seen right
  • overhead. How upon earth he contrived, on some occasions, to settle
  • his latitude, is more than I can tell. The longitude he must either
  • have obtained by the Rule of Three, or else by special revelation. Not
  • that the chronometer in the cabin was seldom to be relied on, or was
  • any ways fidgety; quite the contrary; it stood stock-still; and by
  • that means, no doubt, the true Greenwich time--at the period of
  • stopping, at least--was preserved to a second.
  • The mate, however, in addition to his "Dead Reckoning," pretended to
  • ascertain his meridian distance from Bow Bells by an occasional lunar
  • observation. This, I believe, consists in obtaining with the proper
  • instruments the angular distance between the moon and some one of the
  • stars. The operation generally requires two observers to take sights,
  • and at one and the same time.
  • Now, though the mate alone might have been thought well calculated for
  • this, inasmuch as he generally saw things double, the doctor was
  • usually called upon to play a sort of second quadrant to Jermin's
  • first; and what with the capers of both, they used to furnish a good
  • deal of diversion. The mate's tremulous attempts to level his
  • instrument at the star he was after, were comical enough. For my own
  • part, when he did catch sight of it, I hardly knew how he managed to
  • separate it from the astral host revolving in his own brain.
  • However, by hook or by crook, he piloted us along; and before many
  • days, a fellow sent aloft to darn a rent in the fore-top-sail, threw
  • his hat into the air, and bawled out "Land, ho!"
  • Land it was; but in what part of the South Seas, Jermin alone knew,
  • and some doubted whether even he did. But no sooner was the
  • announcement made, than he came running on deck, spy-glass in hand,
  • and clapping it to his eye, turned round with the air of a man
  • receiving indubitable assurance of something he was quite certain of
  • before. The land was precisely that for which he had been steering;
  • and, with a wind, in less than twenty-four hours we would sight
  • Tahiti. What he said was verified.
  • The island turned out to be one of the Pomotu or Low Group--sometimes
  • called the Coral Islands--perhaps the most remarkable and interesting
  • in the Pacific. Lying to the east of Tahiti, the nearest are within a
  • day's sail of that place.
  • They are very numerous; mostly small, low, and level; sometimes
  • wooded, but always covered with verdure. Many are crescent-shaped;
  • others resemble a horse-shoe in figure. These last are nothing more
  • than narrow circles of land surrounding a smooth lagoon, connected by
  • a single opening with the sea. Some of the lagoons, said to have
  • subterranean outlets, have no visible ones; the inclosing island, in
  • such cases, being a complete zone of emerald. Other lagoons still,
  • are girdled by numbers of small, green islets, very near to each
  • other.
  • The origin of the entire group is generally ascribed to the coral
  • insect.
  • According to some naturalists, this wonderful little creature,
  • commencing its erections at the bottom of the sea, after the lapse of
  • centuries, carries them up to the surface, where its labours cease.
  • Here, the inequalities of the coral collect all floating bodies;
  • forming, after a time, a soil, in which the seeds carried thither by
  • birds germinate, and cover the whole with vegetation. Here and there,
  • all over this archipelago, numberless naked, detached coral
  • formations are seen, just emerging, as it were from the ocean. These
  • would appear to be islands in the very process of creation--at any
  • rate, one involuntarily concludes so, on beholding them.
  • As far as I know, there are but few bread-fruit trees in any part of
  • the Pomotu group. In many places the cocoa-nut even does not grow;
  • though, in others, it largely flourishes. Consequently, some of the
  • islands are altogether uninhabited; others support but a single
  • family; and in no place is the population very large. In some
  • respects the natives resemble the Tahitians: their language, too, is
  • very similar. The people of the southeasterly clusters--concerning
  • whom, however, but little is known--have a bad name as cannibals; and
  • for that reason their hospitality is seldom taxed by the mariner.
  • Within a few years past, missionaries from the Society group have
  • settled among the Leeward Islands, where the natives have treated
  • them kindly. Indeed, nominally, many of these people are now
  • Christians; and, through the political influence of their
  • instructors, no doubt, a short time since came tinder the allegiance
  • of Pomaree, the Queen of Tahiti; with which island they always
  • carried on considerable intercourse.
  • The Coral Islands are principally visited by the pearl-shell
  • fishermen, who arrive in small schooners, carrying not more than five
  • or six men.
  • For a long while the business was engrossed by Merenhout, the French
  • Consul at Tahiti, but a Dutchman by birth, who, in one year, is said
  • to have sent to France fifty thousand dollars' worth of shells. The
  • oysters are found in the lagoons, and about the reefs; and, for
  • half-a-dozen nails a day, or a compensation still less, the natives
  • are hired to dive after them.
  • A great deal of cocoa-nut oil is also obtained in various places. Some
  • of the uninhabited islands are covered with dense groves; and the
  • ungathered nuts which have fallen year after year, lie upon the
  • ground in incredible quantities. Two or three men, provided with the
  • necessary apparatus for trying out the oil, will, in the course of a
  • week or two, obtain enough to load one of the large sea-canoes.
  • Cocoa-nut oil is now manufactured in different parts of the South
  • Seas, and forms no small part of the traffic carried on with trading
  • vessels. A considerable quantity is annually exported from the
  • Society Islands to Sydney. It is used in lamps and for machinery,
  • being much cheaper than the sperm, and, for both purposes, better
  • than the right-whale oil. They bottle it up in large bamboos, six or
  • eight feet long; and these form part of the circulating medium of
  • Tahiti.
  • To return to the ship. The wind dying away, evening came on before we
  • drew near the island. But we had it in view during the whole
  • afternoon.
  • It was small and round, presenting one enamelled level, free from
  • trees, and did not seem four feet above the water. Beyond it was
  • another and larger island, about which a tropical sunset was throwing
  • its glories; flushing all that part of the heavens, and making it
  • flame like a vast dyed oriel illuminated.
  • The Trades scarce filled our swooning sails; the air was languid with
  • the aroma of a thousand strange, flowering shrubs. Upon inhaling it,
  • one of the sick, who had recently shown symptoms of scurvy, cried out
  • in pain, and was carried below. This is no unusual effect in such
  • instances.
  • On we glided, within less than a cable's length of the shore which was
  • margined with foam that sparkled all round. Within, nestled the
  • still, blue lagoon. No living thing was seen, and, for aught we
  • knew, we might have been the first mortals who had ever beheld the
  • spot. The thought was quickening to the fancy; nor could I help
  • dreaming of the endless grottoes and galleries, far below the reach of
  • the mariner's lead.
  • And what strange shapes were lurking there! Think of those arch
  • creatures, the mermaids, chasing each other in and out of the coral
  • cells, and catching their long hair in the coral twigs!
  • CHAPTER XVIII.
  • TAHITI
  • AT early dawn of the following morning we saw the Peaks of Tahiti. In
  • clear weather they may be seen at the distance of ninety miles.
  • "Hivarhoo!" shouted Wymontoo, overjoyed, and running out upon the
  • bowsprit when the land was first faintly descried in the distance.
  • But when the clouds floated away, and showed the three peaks standing
  • like obelisks against the sky; and the bold shore undulating along
  • the horizon, the tears gushed from his eyes. Poor fellow! It was not
  • Hivarhoo. Green Hivarhoo was many a long league off.
  • Tahiti is by far the most famous island in the South Seas; indeed, a
  • variety of causes has made it almost classic. Its natural features
  • alone distinguish it from the surrounding groups. Two round and lofty
  • promontories, whose mountains rise nine thousand feet above the level
  • of the ocean, are connected by a low, narrow isthmus; the whole being
  • some one hundred miles in circuit. From the great central peaks of
  • the larger peninsula--Orohena, Aorai, and Pirohitee--the land radiates
  • on all sides to the sea in sloping green ridges. Between these are
  • broad and shadowy valleys--in aspect, each a Tempe--watered with fine
  • streams, and thickly wooded. Unlike many of the other islands, there
  • extends nearly all round Tahiti a belt of low, alluvial soil, teeming
  • with the richest vegetation. Here, chiefly, the natives dwell.
  • Seen from the sea, the prospect is magnificent. It is one mass of
  • shaded tints of green, from beach to mountain top; endlessly
  • diversified with valleys, ridges, glens, and cascades. Over the
  • ridges, here and there, the loftier peaks fling their shadows, and
  • far down the valleys. At the head of these, the waterfalls flash out
  • into the sunlight, as if pouring through vertical bowers of verdure.
  • Such enchantment, too, breathes over the whole, that it seems a fairy
  • world, all fresh and blooming from the hand of the Creator.
  • Upon a near approach, the picture loses not its attractions. It is no
  • exaggeration to say that, to a European of any sensibility, who, for
  • the first time, wanders back into these valleys--away from the haunts
  • of the natives--the ineffable repose and beauty of the landscape is
  • such, that every object strikes him like something seen in a dream;
  • and for a time he almost refuses to believe that scenes like these
  • should have a commonplace existence. No wonder that the French
  • bestowed upon the island the appellation of the New Cytherea.
  • "Often," says De Bourgainville, "I thought I was walking in the
  • Garden of Eden."
  • Nor, when first discovered, did the inhabitants of this charming
  • country at all diminish the wonder and admiration of the voyager.
  • Their physical beauty and amiable dispositions harmonized completely
  • with the softness of their clime. In truth, everything about them was
  • calculated to awaken the liveliest interest. Glance at their civil
  • and religious institutions. To their king, divine rights were paid;
  • while for poetry, their mythology rivalled that of ancient Greece.
  • Of Tahiti, earlier and more full accounts were given, than of any
  • other island in Polynesia; and this is the reason why it still
  • retains so strong a hold on the sympathies of all readers of South
  • Sea voyages. The journals of its first visitors, containing, as they
  • did, such romantic descriptions of a country and people before
  • unheard of, produced a marked sensation throughout Europe; and when
  • the first Tahitiana were carried thither, Omai in London, and
  • Aotooroo in Paris, were caressed by nobles, scholars, and ladies.
  • In addition to all this, several eventful occurrences, more or less
  • connected with Tahiti, have tended to increase its celebrity. Over
  • two centuries ago, Quiros, the Spaniard, is supposed to have touched
  • at the island; and at intervals, Wallis, Byron, Cook, De
  • Bourgainville, Vancouver, Le Perouse, and other illustrious
  • navigators refitted their vessels in its harbours. Here the famous
  • Transit of Venus was observed, in 1769. Here the memorable mutiny of
  • the Bounty afterwards had its origin. It was to the pagans of Tahiti
  • that the first regularly constituted Protestant missionaries were
  • sent; and from their shores also, have sailed successive missions to
  • the neighbouring islands.
  • These, with other events which might be mentioned, have united in
  • keeping up the first interest which the place awakened; and the
  • recent proceedings of the French have more than ever called forth the
  • sympathies of the public.
  • CHAPTER XIX.
  • A SURPRISE--MORE ABOUT BEMBO
  • THE sight of the island was right welcome. Going into harbour after a
  • cruise is always joyous enough, and the sailor is apt to indulge in
  • all sorts of pleasant anticipations. But to us, the occasion was
  • heightened by many things peculiar to our situation.
  • Since steering for the land, our prospects had been much talked over.
  • By many it was supposed that, should the captain leave the ship, the
  • crew were no longer bound by her articles. This was the opinion of
  • our forecastle Cokes; though, probably, it would not have been
  • sanctioned by the Marine Courts of Law. At any rate, such was the
  • state of both vessel and crew that, whatever might be the event, a
  • long stay, and many holidays in Tahiti, were confidently predicted.
  • Everybody was in high spirits. The sick, who had been improving day by
  • day since the change in our destination, were on deck, and leaning
  • over the bulwarks; some all animation, and others silently admiring
  • an object unrivalled for its stately beauty--Tahiti from the sea.
  • The quarter-deck, however, furnished a marked contrast to what was
  • going on at the other end of the ship. The Mowree was there, as
  • usual, scowling by himself; and Jermin walked to and fro in deep
  • thought, every now and then looking to windward, or darting into the
  • cabin and quickly returning.
  • With all our light sails wooingly spread, we held on our way, until,
  • with the doctor's glass, Papeetee, the village metropolis of Tahiti,
  • came into view. Several ships were descried lying in the harbour, and
  • among them, one which loomed up black and large; her two rows of
  • teeth proclaiming a frigate. This was the Reine Blanche, last from
  • the Marquesas, and carrying at the fore the flag of Rear-Admiral Du
  • Petit Thouars. Hardly had we made her out, when the booming of her
  • guns came over the water. She was firing a salute, which afterwards
  • turned out to be in honour of a treaty; or rather--as far as the
  • natives were concerned--a forced cession of Tahiti to the French,
  • that morning concluded.
  • The cannonading had hardly died away, when Jermin's voice was heard
  • giving an order so unexpected that everyone started. "Stand by to
  • haul back the main-yard!"
  • "What's that mean?" shouted the men, "are we not going into port?"
  • "Tumble after here, and no words!" cried the mate; and in a moment the
  • main-yard swung round, when, with her jib-boom pointing out to sea,
  • the Julia lay as quiet as a duck. We all looked blank--what was to
  • come next?
  • Presently the steward made his appearance, carrying a mattress, which
  • he spread out in the stern-sheets of the captain's boat; two or three
  • chests, and other things belonging to his master, were similarly
  • disposed of.
  • This was enough. A slight hint suffices for a sailor.
  • Still adhering to his resolution to keep the ship at sea in spite of
  • everything, the captain, doubtless, intended to set himself ashore,
  • leaving the vessel, under the mate, to resume her voyage at once; but
  • after a certain period agreed upon, to touch at the island, and take
  • him off. All this, of course, could easily be done without
  • approaching any nearer the land with the Julia than we now were.
  • Invalid whaling captains often adopt a plan like this; but, in the
  • present instance, it was wholly unwarranted; and, everything
  • considered, at war with the commonest principles of prudence and
  • humanity. And, although, on Guy's part, this resolution showed more
  • hardihood than he had ever been given credit for, it, at the same
  • time, argued an unaccountable simplicity, in supposing that such a
  • crew would, in any way, submit to the outrage.
  • It was soon made plain that we were right in our suspicions; and the
  • men became furious. The cooper and carpenter volunteered to head a
  • mutiny forthwith; and while Jermin was below, four or five rushed aft
  • to fasten down the cabin scuttle; others, throwing down the
  • main-braces, called out to the rest to lend a hand, and fill away for
  • the land. All this was done in an instant; and things were looking
  • critical, when Doctor Long Ghost and myself prevailed upon them to
  • wait a while, and do nothing hastily; there was plenty of time, and
  • the ship was completely in our power.
  • While the preparations were still going on in the cabin, we mustered
  • the men together, and went into counsel upon the forecastle.
  • It was with much difficulty that we could bring these rash spirits to
  • a calm consideration of the case. But the doctor's influence at last
  • began to tell; and, with a few exceptions, they agreed to be guided
  • by him; assured that, if they did so, the ship would eventually be
  • brought to her anchors without anyone getting into trouble. Still
  • they told us, up and down, that if peaceable means failed, they would
  • seize Little Jule, and carry her into Papeetee, if they all swung for
  • it; but, for the present, the captain should have his own way.
  • By this time everything was ready; the boat was lowered and brought to
  • the gangway; and the captain was helped on deck by the mate and
  • steward. It was the first time we had seen him in more than two
  • weeks, and he was greatly altered. As if anxious to elude every eye,
  • a broad-brimmed Payata hat was pulled down over his brow; so that his
  • face was only visible when the brim flapped aside. By a sling, rigged
  • from the main-yard, the cook and Bembo now assisted in lowering him
  • into the boat. As he went moaning over the side, he must have heard
  • the whispered maledictions of his crew.
  • While the steward was busy adjusting matters in the boat, the mate,
  • after a private interview with the Mowree, turned round abruptly, and
  • told us that he was going ashore with the captain, to return as soon
  • as possible. In his absence, Bembo, as next in rank, would command;
  • there being nothing to do but keep the ship at a safe distance from
  • the land. He then sprang into the boat, and, with only the cook and
  • steward as oarsmen, steered for the shore.
  • Guy's thus leaving the ship in the men's hands, contrary to the mate's
  • advice, was another evidence of his simplicity; for at this
  • particular juncture, had neither the doctor nor myself been aboard,
  • there is no telling what they might have done.
  • For the nonce, Bembo was captain; and, so far as mere seamanship was
  • concerned, he was as competent to command as anyone. In truth, a
  • better seaman never swore. This accomplishment, by the bye, together
  • with a surprising familiarity with most nautical names and phrases,
  • comprised about all the English he knew.
  • Being a harpooner, and, as such, having access to the cabin, this man,
  • though not yet civilized, was, according to sea usages, which know no
  • exceptions, held superior to the sailors; and therefore nothing was
  • said against his being left in charge of the ship; nor did it
  • occasion any surprise.
  • Some additional account must be given of Bembo. In the first place, he
  • was far from being liked. A dark, moody savage, everybody but the
  • mate more or less distrusted or feared him. Nor were these feelings
  • unreciprocated. Unless duty called, he seldom went among the crew.
  • Hard stories too were told about him; something, in particular,
  • concerning an hereditary propensity to kill men and eat them. True, he
  • came from a race of cannibals; but that was all that was known to a
  • certainty.
  • Whatever unpleasant ideas were connected with the Mowree, his
  • personal appearance no way lessened them. Unlike most of his
  • countrymen, he was, if anything, below the ordinary height; but then,
  • he was all compact, and under his swart, tattooed skin, the muscles
  • worked like steel rods. Hair, crisp and coal-black, curled over
  • shaggy brows, and ambushed small, intense eyes, always on the glare.
  • In short, he was none of your effeminate barbarians.
  • Previous to this, he had been two or three voyages in Sydney whalemen;
  • always, however, as in the present instance, shipping at the Bay of
  • Islands, and receiving his discharge there on the homeward-bound
  • passage. In this way, his countrymen frequently enter on board the
  • colonial whaling vessels.
  • There was a man among us who had sailed with the Mowree on his first
  • voyage, and he told me that he had not changed a particle since then.
  • Some queer things this fellow told me. The following is one of his
  • stories. I give it for what it is worth; premising, however, that
  • from what I know of Bembo, and the foolhardy, dare-devil feats
  • sometimes performed in the sperm-whale fishery, I believe in its
  • substantial truth.
  • As may be believed, Bembo was a wild one after a fish; indeed, all New
  • Zealanders engaged in this business are; it seems to harmonize
  • sweetly with their blood-thirsty propensities. At sea, the best
  • English they speak is the South Seaman's slogan in lowering away, "A
  • dead whale, or a stove boat!" Game to the marrow, these fellows are
  • generally selected for harpooners; a post in which a nervous, timid
  • man would be rather out of his element.
  • In darting, the harpooner, of course, stands erect in the head of the
  • boat, one knee braced against a support. But Bembo disdained this;
  • and was always pulled up to his fish, balancing himself right on the
  • gunwale.
  • But to my story. One morning, at daybreak, they brought him up to a
  • large, long whale. He darted his harpoon, and missed; and the fish
  • sounded. After a while, the monster rose again, about a mile off, and
  • they made after him. But he was frightened, or "gallied," as they
  • call it; and noon came, and the boat was still chasing him. In
  • whaling, as long as the fish is in sight, and no matter what may have
  • been previously undergone, there is no giving up, except when night
  • comes; and nowadays, when whales are so hard to be got, frequently
  • not even then. At last, Bembo's whale was alongside for the second
  • time. He darted both harpoons; but, as sometimes happens to the best
  • men, by some unaccountable chance, once more missed. Though it is
  • well known that such failures will happen at times, they,
  • nevertheless, occasion the bitterest disappointment to a boat's crew,
  • generally expressed in curses both loud and deep. And no wonder. Let
  • any man pull with might and main for hours and hours together, under
  • a burning sun; and if it do not make him a little peevish, he is no
  • sailor.
  • The taunts of the seamen may have maddened the Mowree; however it was,
  • no sooner was he brought up again, than, harpoon in hand, he bounded
  • upon the whale's back, and for one dizzy second was seen there. The
  • next, all was foam and fury, and both were out of sight. The men
  • sheered off, flinging overboard the line as fast as they could; while
  • ahead, nothing was seen but a red whirlpool of blood and brine.
  • Presently, a dark object swam out; the line began to straighten; then
  • smoked round the loggerhead, and, quick as thought, the boat sped
  • like an arrow through the water. They were "fast," and the whale was
  • running.
  • Where was the Mowree? His brown hand was on the boat's gunwale; and he
  • was hauled aboard in the very midst of the mad bubbles that burst
  • under the bows.
  • Such a man, or devil, if you will, was Bembo.
  • CHAPTER XX.
  • THE ROUND ROBIN--VISITORS FROM SHORE
  • AFTER the captain left, the land-breeze died away; and, as is usual
  • about these islands, toward noon it fell a dead calm. There was
  • nothing to do but haul up the courses, run down the jib, and lay and
  • roll upon the swells. The repose of the elements seemed to
  • communicate itself to the men; and for a time there was a lull.
  • Early in the afternoon, the mate, having left the captain at Papeetee,
  • returned to the ship. According to the steward, they were to go
  • ashore again right after dinner with the remainder of Guy's effects.
  • On gaining the deck, Jermin purposely avoided us and went below
  • without saying a word. Meanwhile, Long Ghost and I laboured hard to
  • diffuse the right spirit among the crew; impressing upon them that a
  • little patience and management would, in the end, accomplish all that
  • their violence could; and that, too, without making a serious matter
  • of it.
  • For my own part, I felt that I was under a foreign flag; that an
  • English consul was close at hand, and that sailors seldom obtain
  • justice. It was best to be prudent. Still, so much did I sympathize
  • with the men, so far, at least, as their real grievances were
  • concerned; and so convinced was I of the cruelty and injustice of what
  • Captain Guy seemed bent upon, that if need were, I stood ready to
  • raise a hand.
  • In spite of all we could do, some of them again became most
  • refractory, breathing nothing but downright mutiny. When we went
  • below to dinner these fellows stirred up such a prodigious tumult
  • that the old hull fairly echoed. Many, and fierce too, were the
  • speeches delivered, and uproarious the comments of the sailors. Among
  • others Long Jim, or--as the doctor afterwards called him--Lacedaemonian
  • Jim, rose in his place, and addressed the forecastle parliament in the
  • following strain:
  • "Look ye, Britons! if after what's happened, this here craft goes to
  • sea with us, we are no men; and that's the way to say it. Speak the
  • word, my livelies, and I'll pilot her in. I've been to Tahiti before
  • and I can do it." Whereupon, he sat down amid a universal pounding of
  • chest-lids, and cymbaling of tin pans; the few invalids, who, as yet,
  • had not been actively engaged with the rest, now taking part in the
  • applause, creaking their bunk-boards and swinging their hammocks.
  • Cries also were heard, of "Handspikes and a shindy!" "Out
  • stun-sails!" "Hurrah!"
  • Several now ran on deck, and, for the moment, I thought it was all
  • over with us; but we finally succeeded in restoring some degree of
  • quiet.
  • At last, by way of diverting their thoughts, I proposed that a "Round
  • Robin" should be prepared and sent ashore to the consul by Baltimore,
  • the cook. The idea took mightily, and I was told to set about it at
  • once. On turning to the doctor for the requisite materials, he told
  • me he had none; there was not a fly-leaf, even in any of his books.
  • So, after great search, a damp, musty volume, entitled "A History of
  • the most Atrocious and Bloody Piracies," was produced, and its two
  • remaining blank leaves being torn out, were by help of a little pitch
  • lengthened into one sheet. For ink, some of the soot over the lamp
  • was then mixed with water, by a fellow of a literary turn; and an
  • immense quill, plucked from a distended albatross' wing, which,
  • nailed against the bowsprit bitts, had long formed an ornament of the
  • forecastle, supplied a pen.
  • Making use of the stationery thus provided, I indited, upon a
  • chest-lid, a concise statement of our grievances; concluding with the
  • earnest hope that the consul would at once come off, and see how
  • matters stood for himself. Eight beneath the note was described the
  • circle about which the names were to be written; the great object of
  • a Round Robin being to arrange the signatures in such a way that,
  • although they are all found in a ring, no man can be picked out as
  • the leader of it.
  • Few among them had any regular names; many answering to some familiar
  • title, expressive of a personal trait; or oftener still, to the name
  • of the place from which they hailed; and in one or two cases were
  • known by a handy syllable or two, significant of nothing in
  • particular but the men who bore them. Some, to be sure, had, for the
  • sake of formality, shipped under a feigned cognomen, or "Purser's
  • name"; these, however, were almost forgotten by themselves; and so,
  • to give the document an air of genuineness, it was decided that every
  • man's name should be put down as it went among the crew.
  • It is due to the doctor to say that the circumscribed device was his.
  • Folded, and sealed with a drop of tar, the Round Robin was directed to
  • "The English Consul, Tahiti"; and, handed to the cook, was by him
  • delivered into that gentleman's hands as soon as the mate went
  • ashore.
  • On the return of the boat, sometime after dark, we learned a good deal
  • from old Baltimore, who, having been allowed to run about as much as
  • he pleased, had spent his time gossiping.
  • Owing to the proceedings of the French, everything in Tahiti was in an
  • uproar. Pritchard, the missionary consul, was absent in England; but
  • his place was temporarily filled by one Wilson, an educated white
  • man, born on the island, and the son of an old missionary of that
  • name still living.
  • With natives and foreigners alike, Wilson the younger was exceedingly
  • unpopular, being held an unprincipled and dissipated man, a character
  • verified by his subsequent conduct. Pritchard's selecting a man like
  • this to attend to the duties of his office, had occasioned general
  • dissatisfaction ashore.
  • Though never in Europe or America, the acting consul had been several
  • voyages to Sydney in a schooner belonging to the mission; and
  • therefore our surprise was lessened, when Baltimore told us, that he
  • and Captain Guy were as sociable as could be--old acquaintances, in
  • fact; and that the latter had taken up his quarters at Wilson's
  • house. For us this boded ill.
  • The mate was now assailed by a hundred questions as to what was going
  • to be done with us. His only reply was, that in the morning the
  • consul would pay us a visit, and settle everything.
  • After holding our ground off the harbour during the night, in the
  • morning a shore boat, manned by natives, was seen coming off. In it
  • were Wilson and another white man, who proved to be a Doctor Johnson,
  • an Englishman, and a resident physician of Papeetee.
  • Stopping our headway as they approached, Jermin advanced to the
  • gangway to receive them. No sooner did the consul touch the deck,
  • than he gave us a specimen of what he was.
  • "Mr. Jermin," he cried loftily, and not deigning to notice the
  • respectful salutation of the person addressed, "Mr. Jermin, tack
  • ship, and stand off from the land."
  • Upon this, the men looked hard at him, anxious to see what sort of a
  • looking "cove" he was. Upon inspection, he turned out to be an
  • exceedingly minute "cove," with a viciously pugged nose, and a
  • decidedly thin pair of legs. There was nothing else noticeable about
  • him. Jermin, with ill-assumed suavity, at once obeyed the order, and
  • the ship's head soon pointed out to sea.
  • Now, contempt is as frequently produced at first sight as love; and
  • thus was it with respect to Wilson. No one could look at him without
  • conceiving a strong dislike, or a cordial desire to entertain such a
  • feeling the first favourable opportunity. There was such an
  • intolerable air of conceit about this man that it was almost as much
  • as one could do to refrain from running up and affronting him.
  • "So the counsellor is come," exclaimed Navy Bob, who, like all the
  • rest, invariably styled him thus, much to mine and the doctor's
  • diversion. "Ay," said another, "and for no good, I'll be bound."
  • Such were some of the observations made, as Wilson and the mate went
  • below conversing.
  • But no one exceeded the cooper in the violence with which he inveighed
  • against the ship and everything connected with her. Swearing like a
  • trooper, he called the main-mast to witness that, if he (Bungs) ever
  • again went out of sight of land in the Julia, he prayed Heaven that a
  • fate might be his--altogether too remarkable to be here related.
  • Much had he to say also concerning the vileness of what we had to
  • eat--not fit for a dog; besides enlarging upon the imprudence of
  • intrusting the vessel longer to a man of the mate's intemperate
  • habits. With so many sick, too, what could we expect to do in the
  • fishery? It was no use talking; come what come might, the ship must
  • let go her anchor.
  • Now, as Bungs, besides being an able seaman, a "Cod" in the
  • forecastle, and about the oldest man in it, was, moreover, thus
  • deeply imbued with feelings so warmly responded to by the rest, he
  • was all at once selected to officiate as spokesman, as soon as the
  • consul should see fit to address us. The selection was made contrary
  • to mine and the doctor's advice; however, all assured us they would
  • keep quiet, and hear everything Wilson had to say, before doing
  • anything decisive.
  • We were not kept long in suspense; for very soon he was seen standing
  • in the cabin gangway, with the tarnished tin case containing the
  • ship's papers; and Jennin at once sung out for the ship's company to
  • muster on the quarter-deck.
  • CHAPTER XXI.
  • PROCEEDINGS OF THE CONSUL
  • THE order was instantly obeyed, and the sailors ranged themselves,
  • facing the consul.
  • They were a wild company; men of many climes--not at all precise in
  • their toilet arrangements, but picturesque in their very tatters. My
  • friend, the Long Doctor, was there too; and with a view, perhaps, of
  • enlisting the sympathies of the consul for a gentleman in distress,
  • had taken more than ordinary pains with his appearance. But among the
  • sailors, he looked like a land-crane blown off to sea, and consorting
  • with petrels.
  • The forlorn Rope Yarn, however, was by far the most remarkable figure.
  • Land-lubber that he was, his outfit of sea-clothing had long since
  • been confiscated; and he was now fain to go about in whatever he
  • could pick up. His upper garment--an unsailor-like article of dress
  • which he persisted in wearing, though torn from his back twenty times
  • in the day--was an old "claw-hammer jacket," or swallow-tail coat,
  • formerly belonging to Captain Guy, and which had formed one of his
  • perquisites when steward.
  • By the side of Wilson was the mate, bareheaded, his gray locks lying
  • in rings upon his bronzed brow, and his keen eye scanning the crowd
  • as if he knew their every thought. His frock hung loosely, exposing
  • his round throat, mossy chest, and short and nervous arm embossed
  • with pugilistic bruises, and quaint with many a device in India ink.
  • In the midst of a portentous silence, the consul unrolled his papers,
  • evidently intending to produce an effect by the exceeding bigness of
  • his looks.
  • "Mr. Jermin, call off their names;" and he handed him a list of the
  • ship's company.
  • All answered but the deserters and the two mariners at the bottom of
  • the sea.
  • It was now supposed that the Round Robin would be produced, and
  • something said about it. But not so. Among the consul's papers that
  • unique document was thought to be perceived; but, if there, it was
  • too much despised to be made a subject of comment. Some present, very
  • justly regarding it as an uncommon literary production, had been
  • anticipating all sorts of miracles therefrom; and were, therefore,
  • much touched at this neglect.
  • "Well, men," began Wilson again after a short pause, "although you all
  • look hearty enough, I'm told there are some sick among you. Now then,
  • Mr. Jermin, call off the names on that sick-list of yours, and let
  • them go over to the other side of the deck--I should like to see who
  • they are."
  • "So, then," said he, after we had all passed over, "you are the sick
  • fellows, are you? Very good: I shall have you seen to. You will go
  • down into the cabin one by one, to Doctor Johnson, who will report
  • your respective cases to me. Such as he pronounces in a dying state I
  • shall have sent ashore; the rest will be provided with everything
  • needful, and remain aboard."
  • At this announcement, we gazed strangely at each other, anxious to see
  • who it was that looked like dying, and pretty nearly deciding to stay
  • aboard and get well, rather than go ashore and be buried. There were
  • some, nevertheless, who saw very plainly what Wilson was at, and they
  • acted accordingly. For my own part, I resolved to assume as dying an
  • expression as possible; hoping that, on the strength of it, I might
  • be sent ashore, and so get rid of the ship without any further
  • trouble.
  • With this intention, I determined to take no part in anything that
  • might happen until my case was decided upon. As for the doctor, he
  • had all along pretended to be more or less unwell; and by a
  • significant look now given me, it was plain that he was becoming
  • decidedly worse.
  • The invalids disposed of for the present, and one of them having gone
  • below to be examined, the consul turned round to the rest, and
  • addressed them as follows:--
  • "Men, I'm going to ask you two or three questions--let one of you
  • answer yes or no, and the rest keep silent. Now then: Have you
  • anything to say against your mate, Mr. Jermin?" And he looked
  • sharply among the sailors, and, at last, right into the eye of the
  • cooper, whom everybody was eyeing.
  • "Well, sir," faltered Bungs, "we can't say anything against Mr.
  • Jermin's seamanship, but--"
  • "I want no buts," cried the consul, breaking in: "answer me yes or
  • no--have you anything to say against Mr. Jermin?"
  • "I was going on to say, sir; Mr. Jermin's a very good man; but then--"
  • Here the mate looked marlinespikes at Bungs; and Bungs, after
  • stammering out something, looked straight down to a seam in the deck,
  • and stopped short.
  • A rather assuming fellow heretofore, the cooper had sported many
  • feathers in his cap; he was now showing the white one.
  • "So much then for that part of the business," exclaimed Wilson,
  • smartly; "you have nothing to say against him, I see."
  • Upon this, several seemed to be on the point of saying a good deal;
  • but disconcerted by the cooper's conduct, checked themselves, and the
  • consul proceeded.
  • "Have you enough to eat, aboard? answer me, you man who spoke
  • before."
  • "Well, I don't know as to that," said the cooper, looking excessively
  • uneasy, and trying to edge back, but pushed forward again. "Some of
  • that salt horse ain't as sweet as it might be."
  • "That's not what I asked you," shouted the consul, growing brave quite
  • fast; "answer my questions as I put them, or I'll find a way to make
  • you."
  • This was going a little too far. The ferment, into which the cooper's
  • poltroonery had thrown the sailors, now brooked no restraint; and one
  • of them--a young American who went by the name of Salem--dashed out
  • from among the rest, and fetching the cooper a blow that sent him
  • humming over toward the consul, flourished a naked sheath-knife in
  • the air, and burst forth with "I'm the little fellow that can answer
  • your questions; just put them to me once, counsellor." But the
  • "counsellor" had no more questions to ask just then; for at the
  • alarming apparition of Salem's knife, and the extraordinary effect
  • produced upon Bungs, he had popped his head down the companion-way,
  • and was holding it there.
  • Upon the mate's assuring him, however, that it was all over, he looked
  • up, quite flustered, if not frightened, but evidently determined to
  • put as fierce a face on the matter as practicable. Speaking sharply,
  • he warned all present to "look out"; and then repeated the question,
  • whether there was enough to eat aboard. Everyone now turned
  • spokesman; and he was assailed by a perfect hurricane of yells, in
  • which the oaths fell like hailstones.
  • "How's this! what d'ye mean?" he cried, upon the first lull; "who told
  • you all to speak at once? Here, you man with the knife, you'll be
  • putting someone's eyes out yet; d'ye hear, you sir? You seem to have
  • a good deal to say, who are you, pray; where did you ship?"
  • "I'm nothing more nor a bloody beach-comber," retorted Salem, stepping
  • forward piratically and eyeing him; "and if you want to know, I
  • shipped at the Islands about four months ago."
  • "Only four months ago? And here you have more to say than men who have
  • been aboard the whole voyage;" and the consul made a dash at looking
  • furious, but failed. "Let me hear no more from you, sir. Where's
  • that respectable, gray-headed man, the cooper? he's the one to answer
  • my questions."
  • "There's no 'spectable, gray-headed men aboard," returned Salem;
  • "we're all a parcel of mutineers and pirates!"
  • All this time, the mate was holding his peace; and Wilson, now
  • completely abashed, and at a loss what to do, took him by the arm,
  • and walked across the deck. Returning to the cabin-scuttle, after a
  • close conversation, he abruptly addressed the sailors, without taking
  • any further notice of what had just happened.
  • "For reasons you all know, men, this ship has been placed in my hands.
  • As Captain Guy will remain ashore for the present, your mate, Mr.
  • Jermin, will command until his recovery. According to my judgment,
  • there is no reason why the voyage should not be at once resumed;
  • especially, as I shall see that you have two more harpooners, and
  • enough good men to man three boats. As for the sick, neither you nor I
  • have anything to do with them; they will be attended to by Doctor
  • Johnson; but I've explained that matter before. As soon as things can
  • be arranged--in a day or two, at farthest--you will go to sea for a
  • three months' cruise, touching here, at the end of it, for your
  • captain. Let me hear a good report of you, now, when you come back.
  • At present, you will continue lying off and on the harbour. I will
  • send you fresh provisions as soon as I can get them. There: I've
  • nothing more to say; go forward to your stations."
  • And, without another word, he wheeled round to descend into the cabin.
  • But hardly had he concluded before the incensed men were dancing
  • about him on every side, and calling upon him to lend an ear. Each
  • one for himself denied the legality of what he proposed to do;
  • insisted upon the necessity for taking the ship in; and finally gave
  • him to understand, roughly and roundly, that go to sea in her they
  • would not.
  • In the midst of this mutinous uproar, the alarmed consul stood fast by
  • the scuttle. His tactics had been decided upon beforehand; indeed,
  • they must have been concerted ashore, between him and the captain;
  • for all he said, as he now hurried below, was, "Go forward, men; I'm
  • through with you: you should have mentioned these matters before: my
  • arrangements are concluded: go forward, I say; I've nothing more to
  • say to you." And, drawing over the slide of the scuttle, he
  • disappeared. Upon the very point of following him down, the attention
  • of the exasperated seamen was called off to a party who had just then
  • taken the recreant Bungs in hand. Amid a shower of kicks and cuffs,
  • the traitor was borne along to the forecastle, where--I forbear to
  • relate what followed.
  • CHAPTER XXII.
  • THE CONSUL'S DEPARTURE
  • DURING THE scenes just described, Doctor Johnson was engaged in
  • examining the sick, of whom, as it turned out, all but two were to
  • remain in the ship. He had evidently received his cue from Wilson.
  • One of the last called below into the cabin, just as the quarter-deck
  • gathering dispersed, I came on deck quite incensed. My lameness,
  • which, to tell the truth, was now much better, was put down as, in a
  • great measure, affected; and my name was on the list of those who
  • would be fit for any duty in a day or two. This was enough. As for
  • Doctor Long Ghost, the shore physician, instead of extending to him
  • any professional sympathy, had treated him very cavalierly. To a
  • certain extent, therefore, we were now both bent on making common
  • cause with the sailors.
  • I must explain myself here. All we wanted was to have the ship snugly
  • anchored in Papeetee Bay; entertaining no doubt that, could this be
  • done, it would in some way or other peaceably lead to our
  • emancipation. Without a downright mutiny, there was but one way to
  • accomplish this: to induce the men to refuse all further duty, unless
  • it were to work the vessel in. The only difficulty lay in restraining
  • them within proper bounds. Nor was it without certain misgivings,
  • that I found myself so situated, that I must necessarily link myself,
  • however guardedly, with such a desperate company; and in an
  • enterprise, too, of which it was hard to conjecture what might be the
  • result. But anything like neutrality was out of the question; and
  • unconditional submission was equally so.
  • On going forward, we found them ten times more tumultuous than ever.
  • After again restoring some degree of tranquillity, we once more urged
  • our plan of quietly refusing duty, and awaiting the result. At first,
  • few would hear of it; but in the end, a good number were convinced by
  • our representations. Others held out. Nor were those who thought with
  • us in all things to be controlled.
  • Upon Wilson's coming on deck to enter his boat, he was beset on all
  • sides; and, for a moment, I thought the ship would be seized before
  • his very eyes.
  • "Nothing more to say to you, men: my arrangements are made. Go
  • forward, where you belong. I'll take no insolence;" and, in a tremor,
  • Wilson hurried over the side in the midst of a volley of execrations.
  • Shortly after his departure, the mate ordered the cook and steward
  • into his boat; and saying that he was going to see how the captain
  • did, left us, as before, under the charge of Bembo.
  • At this time we were lying becalmed, pretty close in with the land
  • (having gone about again), our main-topsail flapping against the mast
  • with every roll.
  • The departure of the consul and Jermin was followed by a scene
  • absolutely indescribable. The sailors ran about deck like madmen;
  • Bembo, all the while leaning against the taff-rail by himself,
  • smoking his heathenish stone pipe, and never interfering.
  • The cooper, who that morning had got himself into a fluid of an
  • exceedingly high temperature, now did his best to regain the favour
  • of the crew. "Without distinction of party," he called upon all hands
  • to step up, and partake of the contents of his bucket.
  • But it was quite plain that, before offering to intoxicate others, he
  • had taken the wise precaution of getting well tipsy himself. He was
  • now once more happy in the affection of his shipmates, who, one and
  • all, pronounced him sound to the kelson.
  • The Pisco soon told; and, with great difficulty, we restrained a party
  • in the very act of breaking into the after-hold in pursuit of more.
  • All manner of pranks were now played.
  • "Mast-head, there! what d'ye see?" bawled Beauty, hailing the
  • main-truck through an enormous copper funnel. "Stand by for stays,"
  • roared Flash Jack, bawling off with the cook's axe, at the fastening
  • of the main-stay. "Looky out for 'quails!" shrieked the Portuguese,
  • Antone, darting a handspike through the cabin skylight. And "Heave
  • round cheerly, men," sung out Navy Bob, dancing a hornpipe on the
  • forecastle.
  • CHAPTER XXIII.
  • THE SECOND NIGHT OFF PAPEETEE
  • TOWARD sunset, the mate came off, singing merrily, in the stern of his
  • boat; and in attempting to climb up the side, succeeded in going
  • plump into the water. He was rescued by the steward, and carried
  • across the deck with many moving expressions of love for his bearer.
  • Tumbled into the quarter-boat, he soon fell asleep, and waking about
  • midnight, somewhat sobered, went forward among the men. Here, to
  • prepare for what follows, we must leave him for a moment.
  • It was now plain enough that Jermin was by no means unwilling to take
  • the Julia to sea; indeed, there was nothing he so much desired;
  • though what his reasons were, seeing our situation, we could only
  • conjecture. Nevertheless, so it was; and having counted much upon his
  • rough popularity with the men to reconcile them to a short cruise
  • under him, he had consequently been disappointed in their behaviour.
  • Still, thinking that they would take a different view of the matter,
  • when they came to know what fine times he had in store for them, he
  • resolved upon trying a little persuasion.
  • So on going forward, he put his head down the forecastle scuttle, and
  • hailed us quite cordially, inviting us down into the cabin; where, he
  • said, he had something to make merry withal. Nothing loth, we went;
  • and throwing ourselves along the transom, waited for the steward to
  • serve us.
  • As the can circulated, Jermin, leaning on the table and occupying the
  • captain's arm-chair secured to the deck, opened his mind as bluntly
  • and freely as ever. He was by no means yet sober.
  • He told us we were acting very foolishly; that if we only stuck to the
  • ship, he would lead us all a jovial life of it; enumerating the casks
  • still remaining untapped in the Julia's wooden cellar. It was even
  • hinted vaguely that such a thing might happen as our not coming back
  • for the captain; whom he spoke of but lightly; asserting, what he had
  • often said before, that he was no sailor.
  • Moreover, and perhaps with special reference to Doctor Long Ghost and
  • myself, he assured us generally that, if there were any among us
  • studiously inclined, he would take great pleasure in teaching such
  • the whole art and mystery of navigation, including the gratuitous use
  • of his quadrant.
  • I should have mentioned that, previous to this, he had taken the
  • doctor aside, and said something about reinstating him in the cabin
  • with augmented dignity; beside throwing out a hint that I myself was
  • in some way or other to be promoted. But it was all to no purpose;
  • bent the men were upon going ashore, and there was no moving them.
  • At last he flew into a rage--much increased by the frequency of his
  • potations--and with many imprecations, concluded by driving everybody
  • out of the cabin. We tumbled up the gangway in high good-humour.
  • Upon deck everything looked so quiet that some of the most pugnacious
  • spirits actually lamented that there was so little prospect of an
  • exhilarating disturbance before morning. It was not five minutes,
  • however, ere these fellows were gratified.
  • Sydney Ben--said to be a runaway Ticket-of-Leave-Man, and for reasons
  • of his own, one of the few who still remained on duty--had, for the
  • sake of the fun, gone down with the rest into the cabin; where Bembo,
  • who meanwhile was left in charge of the deck, had frequently called
  • out for him. At first, Ben pretended not to hear; but on being sung
  • out for again and again, bluntly refused; at the same time, casting
  • some illiberal reflections on the Mowree's maternal origin, which the
  • latter had been long enough among the sailors to understand as in the
  • highest degree offensive. So just after the men came up from below,
  • Bembo singled him out, and gave him such a cursing in his broken
  • lingo that it was enough to frighten one. The convict was the worse
  • for liquor; indeed the Mowree had been tippling also, and before we
  • knew it, a blow was struck by Ben, and the two men came together like
  • magnets.
  • The Ticket-of-Leave-Man was a practised bruiser; but the savage knew
  • nothing of the art pugilistic: and so they were even. It was clear
  • hugging and wrenching till both came to the deck. Here they rolled
  • over and over in the middle of a ring which seemed to form of itself.
  • At last the white man's head fell back, and his face grew purple.
  • Bembo's teeth were at his throat. Rushing in all round, they hauled
  • the savage off, but not until repeatedly struck on the head would he
  • let go.
  • His rage was now absolutely demoniac; he lay glaring and writhing on
  • the deck, without attempting to rise. Cowed, as they supposed he was,
  • from his attitude, the men, rejoiced at seeing him thus humbled, left
  • him; after rating him, in sailor style, for a cannibal and a coward.
  • Ben was attended to, and led below.
  • Soon after this, the rest also, with but few exceptions, retired into
  • the forecastle; and having been up nearly all the previous night,
  • they quickly dropped about the chests and rolled into the hammocks.
  • In an hour's time, not a sound could be heard in that part of the
  • ship.
  • Before Bembo was dragged away, the mate had in vain endeavoured to
  • separate the combatants, repeatedly striking the Mowree; but the
  • seamen interposing, at last kept him off.
  • And intoxicated as he was, when they dispersed, he knew enough to
  • charge the steward--a steady seaman be it remembered--with the
  • present safety of the ship; and then went below, when he fell
  • directly into another drunken sleep.
  • Having remained upon deck with the doctor some time after the rest had
  • gone below, I was just on the point of following him down, when I saw
  • the Mowree rise, draw a bucket of water, and holding it high above
  • his head, pour its contents right over him. This he repeated several
  • times. There was nothing very peculiar in the act, but something else
  • about him struck me. However, I thought no more of it, but descended
  • the scuttle.
  • After a restless nap, I found the atmosphere of the forecastle so
  • close, from nearly all the men being down at the same time, that I
  • hunted up an old pea-jacket and went on deck; intending to sleep it
  • out there till morning. Here I found the cook and steward, Wymontoo,
  • Rope Yarn, and the Dane; who, being all quiet, manageable fellows,
  • and holding aloof from the rest since the captain's departure, had
  • been ordered by the mate not to go below until sunrise. They were
  • lying under the lee of the bulwarks; two or three fast asleep, and
  • the others smoking their pipes, and conversing.
  • To my surprise, Bembo was at the helm; but there being so few to stand
  • there now, they told me, he had offered to take his turn with the
  • rest, at the same time heading the watch; and to this, of course,
  • they made no objection.
  • It was a fine, bright night; all moon and stars, and white crests of
  • waves. The breeze was light, but freshening; and close-hauled, poor
  • little Jule, as if nothing had happened, was heading in for the land,
  • which rose high and hazy in the distance.
  • After the day's uproar, the tranquillity of the scene was soothing,
  • and I leaned over the side to enjoy it.
  • More than ever did I now lament my situation--but it was useless to
  • repine, and I could not upbraid myself. So at last, becoming drowsy,
  • I made a bed with my jacket under the windlass, and tried to forget
  • myself.
  • How long I lay there, I cannot tell; but as I rose, the first object
  • that met my eye was Bembo at the helm; his dark figure slowly rising
  • and falling with the ship's motion against the spangled heavens
  • behind. He seemed all impatience and expectation; standing at arm's
  • length from the spokes, with one foot advanced, and his bare head
  • thrust forward. Where I was, the watch were out of sight; and no one
  • else was stirring; the deserted decks and broad white sails were
  • gleaming in the moonlight.
  • Presently, a swelling, dashing sound came upon my ear, and I had a
  • sort of vague consciousness that I had been hearing it before. The
  • next instant I was broad awake and on my feet. Eight ahead, and so
  • near that my heart stood still, was a long line of breakers, heaving
  • and frothing. It was the coral reef girdling the island. Behind it,
  • and almost casting their shadows upon the deck, were the sleeping
  • mountains, about whose hazy peaks the gray dawn was just breaking.
  • The breeze had freshened, and with a steady, gliding motion, we were
  • running straight for the reef.
  • All was taken in at a glance; the fell purpose of Bembo was obvious,
  • and with a frenzied shout to wake the watch, I rushed aft. They
  • sprang to their feet bewildered; and after a short, but desperate
  • scuffle, we tore him from the helm. In wrestling with him, the
  • wheel--left for a moment unguarded--flew to leeward, thus, fortunately,
  • bringing the ship's head to the wind, and so retarding her progress.
  • Previous to this, she had been kept three or four points free, so as
  • to close with the breakers. Her headway now shortened, I steadied the
  • helm, keeping the sails just lifting, while we glided obliquely
  • toward the land. To have run off before the wind--an easy
  • thing--would have been almost instant destruction, owing to a curve of
  • the reef in that direction. At this time, the Dane and the steward
  • were still struggling with the furious Mowree, and the others were
  • running about irresolute and shouting.
  • But darting forward the instant I had the helm, the old cook thundered
  • on the forecastle with a handspike, "Breakers! breakers close
  • aboard!--'bout ship! 'bout ship!"
  • Up came the sailors, staring about them in stupid horror.
  • "Haul back the head-yards!" "Let go the lee fore-brace!" "Ready about!
  • about!" were now shouted on all sides; while distracted by a thousand
  • orders, they ran hither and thither, fairly panic-stricken.
  • It seemed all over with us; and I was just upon the point of throwing
  • the ship full into the wind (a step, which, saving us for the
  • instant, would have sealed our fate in the end), when a sharp cry
  • shot by my ear like the flight of an arrow.
  • It was Salem: "All ready for'ard; hard down!"
  • Round and round went the spokes--the Julia, with her short keel,
  • spinning to windward like a top. Soon, the jib-sheets lashed the
  • stays, and the men, more self-possessed, flew to the braces.
  • "Main-sail haul!" was now heard, as the fresh breeze streamed fore and
  • aft the deck; and directly the after-yards were whirled round.
  • In a half-a-minute more, we were sailing away from the land on the
  • other tack, with every sail distended.
  • Turning on her heel within little more than a biscuit's toss of the
  • reef, no earthly power could have saved us, were it not that, up to
  • the very brink of the coral rampart, there are no soundings.
  • CHAPTER XXIV.
  • OUTBREAK OF THE CREW
  • THE purpose of Bembo had been made known to the men generally by the
  • watch; and now that our salvation was certain, by an instinctive
  • impulse they raised a cry, and rushed toward him.
  • Just before liberated by Dunk and the steward, he was standing
  • doggedly by the mizzen-mast; and, as the infuriated sailors came on,
  • his bloodshot eye rolled, and his sheath-knife glittered over his
  • head.
  • "Down with him!" "Strike him down!" "Hang him at the main-yard!" such
  • were the shouts now raised. But he stood unmoved, and, for a single
  • instant, they absolutely faltered.
  • "Cowards!" cried Salem, and he flung himself upon him. The steel
  • descended like a ray of light; but did no harm; for the sailor's
  • heart was beating against the Mowree's before he was aware.
  • They both fell to the deck, when the knife was instantly seized, and
  • Bembo secured.
  • "For'ard! for'ard with him!" was again the cry; "give him a sea-toss!"
  • "Overboard with him!" and he was dragged along the deck, struggling
  • and fighting with tooth and nail.
  • All this uproar immediately over the mate's head at last roused him
  • from his drunken nap, and he came staggering on deck.
  • "What's this?" he shouted, running right in among them.
  • "It's the Mowree, zur; they are going to murder him, zur," here sobbed
  • poor Rope Yarn, crawling close up to him.
  • "Avast! avast!" roared Jermin, making a spring toward Bembo, and
  • dashing two or three of the sailors aside. At this moment the wretch
  • was partly flung over the bulwarks, which shook with his frantic
  • struggles. In vain the doctor and others tried to save him: the men
  • listened to nothing.
  • "Murder and mutiny, by the salt sea!" shouted the mate; and dashing
  • his arms right and left, he planted his iron hand upon the Mowree's
  • shoulder.
  • "There are two of us now; and as you serve him, you serve me," he
  • cried, turning fiercely round.
  • "Over with them together, then," exclaimed the carpenter, springing
  • forward; but the rest fell back before the courageous front of
  • Jermin, and, with the speed of thought, Bembo, unharmed, stood upon
  • deck.
  • "Aft with ye!" cried his deliverer; and he pushed him right among the
  • men, taking care to follow him up close. Giving the sailors no time
  • to recover, he pushed the Mowree before him, till they came to the
  • cabin scuttle, when he drew the slide over him, and stood still.
  • Throughout, Bembo never spoke one word.
  • "Now for'ard where ye belong!" cried the mate, addressing the seamen,
  • who by this time, rallying again, had no idea of losing their victim.
  • "The Mowree! the Mowree!" they shouted.
  • Here the doctor, in answer to the mate's repeated questions, stepped
  • forward, and related what Bembo had been doing; a matter which the
  • mate but dimly understood from the violent threatenings he had been
  • hearing.
  • For a moment he seemed to waver; but at last, turning the key of the
  • padlock of the slide, he breathed through his set teeth--"Ye can't
  • have him; I'll hand him over to the consul; so for'ard with ye, I
  • say: when there's any drowning to be done, I'll pass the word; so
  • away with ye, ye blood-thirsty pirates."
  • It was to no purpose that they begged or threatened: Jermin, although
  • by no means sober, stood his ground manfully, and before long they
  • dispersed, soon to forget everything that had happened.
  • Though we had no opportunity to hear him confess it, Bembo's intention
  • to destroy us was beyond all question. His only motive could have
  • been a desire to revenge the contumely heaped upon him the night
  • previous, operating upon a heart irreclaimably savage, and at no time
  • fraternally disposed toward the crew.
  • During the whole of this scene the doctor did his best to save him.
  • But well knowing that all I could do would have been equally useless,
  • I maintained my place at the wheel. Indeed, no one but Jermin could
  • have prevented this murder.
  • CHAPTER XXV.
  • JERMIN ENCOUNTERS AN OLD SHIPMATE
  • DURING the morning of the day which dawned upon the events just
  • recounted, we remained a little to leeward of the harbour, waiting
  • the appearance of the consul, who had promised the mate to come off
  • in a shore boat for the purpose of seeing him.
  • By this time the men had forced his secret from the cooper, and the
  • consequence was that they kept him continually coming and going from
  • the after-hold. The mate must have known this; but he said nothing,
  • notwithstanding all the dancing and singing, and occasional fighting
  • which announced the flow of the Pisco.
  • The peaceable influence which the doctor and myself had heretofore
  • been exerting, was now very nearly at an end.
  • Confident, from the aspect of matters, that the ship, after all, would
  • be obliged to go in; and learning, moreover, that the mate had said
  • so, the sailors, for the present, seemed in no hurry about it;
  • especially as the bucket of Bungs gave such generous cheer.
  • As for Bembo, we were told that, after putting him in double irons,
  • the mate had locked him up in the captain's state-room, taking the
  • additional precaution of keeping the cabin scuttle secured. From this
  • time forward we never saw the Mowree again, a circumstance which will
  • explain itself as the narrative proceeds.
  • Noon came, and no consul; and as the afternoon advanced without any
  • word even from the shore, the mate was justly incensed; more
  • especially as he had taken great pains to keep perfectly sober
  • against Wilson's arrival.
  • Two or three hours before sundown, a small schooner came out of the
  • harbour, and headed over for the adjoining island of Imeeo, or
  • Moreea, in plain sight, about fifteen miles distant. The wind
  • failing, the current swept her down under our bows, where we had a
  • fair glimpse of the natives on her decks.
  • There were a score of them, perhaps, lounging upon spread mats, and
  • smoking their pipes. On floating so near, and hearing the maudlin
  • cries of our crew, and beholding their antics, they must have taken
  • us for a pirate; at any rate, they got out their sweeps, and pulled
  • away as fast as they could; the sight of our two six-pounders, which,
  • by way of a joke, were now run out of the side-ports, giving a fresh
  • impetus to their efforts. But they had not gone far, when a white
  • man, with a red sash about his waist, made his appearance on deck,
  • the natives immediately desisting.
  • Hailing us loudly, he said he was coming aboard; and after some
  • confusion on the schooner's decks, a small canoe was launched
  • over-board, and, in a minute or two, he was with us. He turned out to
  • be an old shipmate of Jermin's, one Viner, long supposed dead, but
  • now resident on the island.
  • The meeting of these men, under the circumstances, is one of a
  • thousand occurrences appearing exaggerated in fiction; but,
  • nevertheless, frequently realized in actual lives of adventure.
  • Some fifteen years previous, they had sailed together as officers of
  • the barque Jane, of London, a South Seaman. Somewhere near the New
  • Hebrides, they struck one night upon an unknown reef; and, in a few
  • hours, the Jane went to pieces. The boats, however, were saved; some
  • provisions also, a quadrant, and a few other articles. But several of
  • the men were lost before they got clear of the wreck.
  • The three boats, commanded respectively by the captain, Jermin, and
  • the third mate, then set sail for a small English settlement at the
  • Bay of Islands in New Zealand. Of course they kept together as much
  • as possible. After being at sea about a week, a Lascar in the
  • captain's boat went crazy; and, it being dangerous to keep him, they
  • tried to throw him overboard. In the confusion that ensued the boat
  • capsized from the sail's "jibing"; and a considerable sea running at
  • the time, and the other boats being separated more than usual, only
  • one man was picked up. The very next night it blew a heavy gale; and
  • the remaining boats taking in all sail, made bundles of their oars,
  • flung them overboard, and rode to them with plenty of line. When
  • morning broke, Jermin and his men were alone upon the ocean: the
  • third mate's boat, in all probability, having gone down.
  • After great hardships, the survivors caught sight of a brig, which
  • took them on board, and eventually landed them at Sydney.
  • Ever since then our mate had sailed from that port, never once hearing
  • of his lost shipmates, whom, by this time, of course, he had long
  • given up. Judge, then, his feelings when Viner, the lost third mate,
  • the instant he touched the deck, rushed up and wrung him by the hand.
  • During the gale his line had parted; so that the boat, drifting fast
  • to leeward, was out of sight by morning. Reduced, after this, to
  • great extremities, the boat touched, for fruit, at an island of which
  • they knew nothing. The natives, at first, received them kindly; but
  • one of the men getting into a quarrel on account of a woman, and the
  • rest taking his part, they were all massacred but Viner, who, at the
  • time, was in an adjoining village. After staying on the island more
  • than two years, he finally escaped in the boat of an American whaler,
  • which landed him at Valparaiso. From this period he had continued to
  • follow the seas, as a man before the mast, until about eighteen
  • months previous, when he went ashore at Tahiti, where he now owned the
  • schooner we saw, in which he traded among the neighbouring islands.
  • The breeze springing up again just after nightfall, Viner left us,
  • promising his old shipmate to see him again, three days hence, in
  • Papeetee harbour.
  • CHAPTER XXVI.
  • WE ENTER THE HARBOUR--JIM THE PILOT
  • EXHAUSTED by the day's wassail, most of the men went below at an early
  • hour, leaving the deck to the steward and two of the men remaining on
  • duty; the mate, with Baltimore and the Dane, engaging to relieve them
  • at midnight. At that hour, the ship--now standing off shore, under
  • short sail--was to be tacked.
  • It was not long after midnight, when we were wakened in the forecastle
  • by the lion roar of Jermin's voice, ordering a pull at the
  • jib-halyards; and soon afterwards, a handspike struck the scuttle,
  • and all hands were called to take the ship into port.
  • This was wholly unexpected; but we learned directly that the mate, no
  • longer relying upon the consul, and renouncing all thought of
  • inducing the men to change their minds, had suddenly made up his own.
  • He was going to beat up to the entrance of the harbour, so as to show
  • a signal for a pilot before sunrise.
  • Notwithstanding this, the sailors absolutely refused to assist in
  • working the ship under any circumstances whatever: to all mine and
  • the doctor's entreaties lending a deaf ear. Sink or strike, they
  • swore they would have nothing more to do with her. This perverseness
  • was to be attributed, in a great measure, to the effects of their
  • late debauch.
  • With a strong breeze, all sail set, and the ship in the hands of four
  • or five men, exhausted by two nights' watching, our situation was bad
  • enough; especially as the mate seemed more reckless than ever, and we
  • were now to tack ship several times close under the land.
  • Well knowing that if anything untoward happened to the vessel before
  • morning, it would be imputed to the conduct of the crew, and so lead
  • to serious results, should they ever be brought to trial; I called
  • together those on deck to witness my declaration;--that now that the
  • Julia was destined for the harbour (the only object for which I, at
  • least, had been struggling), I was willing to do what I could toward
  • carrying her in safely. In this step I was followed by the doctor.
  • The hours passed anxiously until morning; when, being well to windward
  • of the mouth of the harbour, we bore up for it, with the union-jack
  • at the fore. No sign, however, of boat or pilot was seen; and after
  • running close in several times, the ensign was set at the
  • mizzen-peak, union down in distress. But it was of no avail.
  • Attributing to Wilson this unaccountable remissness on the part of
  • those ashore, Jermin, quite enraged, now determined to stand boldly
  • in upon his own responsibility; trusting solely to what he remembered
  • of the harbour on a visit there many years previous.
  • This resolution was characteristic. Even with a competent pilot,
  • Papeetee Bay, is considered a ticklish, one to enter. Formed by a
  • bold sweep of the shore, it is protected seaward by the coral reef,
  • upon which the rollers break with great violence. After stretching
  • across the bay, the barrier extends on toward Point Venus, in the
  • district of Matavia, eight or nine miles distant. Here there is an
  • opening, by which ships enter, and glide down the smooth, deep canal,
  • between the reef and the shore, to the harbour. But, by seamen
  • generally, the leeward entrance is preferred, as the wind is
  • extremely variable inside the reef. This latter entrance is a break in
  • the barrier directly facing the bay and village of Papeetee. It is
  • very narrow; and from the baffling winds, currents, and sunken rocks,
  • ships now and then grate their keels against the coral.
  • But the mate was not to be daunted; so, stationing what men he had at
  • the braces, he sprang upon the bulwarks, and, bidding everybody keep
  • wide awake, ordered the helm up. In a few moments, we were running
  • in. Being toward noon, the wind was fast leaving us, and, by the time
  • the breakers were roaring on either hand, little more than
  • steerage-way was left. But on we glided--smoothly and deftly; avoiding
  • the green, darkling objects here and there strewn in our path; Jermin
  • occasionally looking down in the water, and then about him, with the
  • utmost calmness, and not a word spoken. Just fanned along thus, it
  • was not many minutes ere we were past all danger, and floated into
  • the placid basin within. This was the cleverest specimen of his
  • seamanship that he ever gave us.
  • As we held on toward the frigate and shipping, a canoe, coming out
  • from among them, approached. In it were a boy and an old man--both
  • islanders; the former nearly naked, and the latter dressed in an old
  • naval frock-coat. Both were paddling with might and main; the old
  • man, once in a while, tearing his paddle out of the water; and, after
  • rapping his companion over the head, both fell to with fresh vigour.
  • As they came within hail, the old fellow, springing to his feet and
  • flourishing his paddle, cut some of the queerest capers; all the
  • while jabbering something which at first we could not understand.
  • Presently we made out the following:--"Ah! you pemi, ah!--you
  • come!--What for you come?--You be fine for come no pilot.--I say, you
  • hear?--I say, you ita maitui (no good).--You hear?--You no
  • pilot.--Yes, you d---- me, you no pilot 't all; I d---- you; you
  • hear?"
  • This tirade, which showed plainly that, whatever the profane old
  • rascal was at, he was in right good earnest, produced peals of
  • laughter from the ship. Upon which, he seemed to get beside himself;
  • and the boy, who, with suspended paddle, was staring about him,
  • received a sound box over the head, which set him to work in a
  • twinkling, and brought the canoe quite near. The orator now opening
  • afresh, it turned out that his vehement rhetoric was all addressed to
  • the mate, still standing conspicuously on the bulwarks.
  • But Jermin was in no humour for nonsense; so, with a sailor's
  • blessing, he ordered him off. The old fellow then flew into a regular
  • frenzy, cursing and swearing worse than any civilized being I ever
  • heard.
  • "You sabbee me?" he shouted. "You know me, ah? Well; me Jim, me
  • pilot--been pilot now long time."
  • "Ay," cried Jermin, quite surprised, as indeed we all were, "you are
  • the pilot, then, you old pagan. Why didn't you come off before this?"
  • "Ah! me scibbee,--me know--you piratee (pirate)--see you long time,
  • but no me come--I sabbee you--you ita maitai nuee (superlatively
  • bad)."
  • "Paddle away with ye," roared Jermin, in a rage; "be off! or I'll dart
  • a harpoon at ye!"
  • But, instead of obeying the order, Jim, seizing his paddle, darted the
  • canoe right up to the gangway, and, in two bounds, stood on deck.
  • Pulling a greasy silk handkerchief still lower over his brow, and
  • improving the sit of his frock-coat with a vigorous jerk, he then
  • strode up to the mate; and, in a more flowery style than ever, gave
  • him to understand that the redoubtable "Jim," himself, was before
  • him; that the ship was his until the anchor was down; and he should
  • like to hear what anyone had to say to it.
  • As there now seemed little doubt that he was all he claimed to be, the
  • Julia was at last surrendered.
  • Our gentleman now proceeded to bring us to an anchor, jumping up
  • between the knight-heads, and bawling out "Luff! luff! keepy off!
  • leeepy off!" and insisting upon each time being respectfully
  • responded to by the man at the helm. At this time our steerage-way
  • was almost gone; and yet, in giving his orders, the passionate old
  • man made as much fuss as a white squall aboard the Flying Dutchman.
  • Jim turned out to be the regular pilot of the harbour; a post, be it
  • known, of no small profit; and, in his eyes, at least, invested with
  • immense importance. Our unceremonious entrance, therefore, was
  • regarded as highly insulting, and tending to depreciate both the
  • dignity and lucrativeness of his office.
  • The old man is something of a wizard. Having an understanding with the
  • elements, certain phenomena of theirs are exhibited for his
  • particular benefit. Unusually clear weather, with a fine steady
  • breeze, is a certain sign that a merchantman is at hand; whale-spouts
  • seen from the harbour are tokens of a whaling vessel's approach; and
  • thunder and lightning, happening so seldom as they do, are proof
  • positive that a man-of-war is drawing near.
  • In short, Jim, the pilot, is quite a character in his way; and no one
  • visits Tahiti without hearing some curious story about him.
  • CHAPTER XXVII.
  • A GLANCE AT PAPEETEE--WE ARE SENT ABOARD THE FRIGATE
  • THE village of Papeetee struck us all very pleasantly. Lying in a
  • semicircle round the bay, the tasteful mansions of the chiefs and
  • foreign residents impart an air of tropical elegance, heightened by
  • the palm-trees waving here and there, and the deep-green groves of
  • the Bread-Fruit in the background. The squalid huts of the common
  • people are out of sight, and there is nothing to mar the prospect.
  • All round the water extends a wide, smooth beach of mixed pebbles and
  • fragments of coral. This forms the thoroughfare of the village; the
  • handsomest houses all facing it--the fluctuation of the tides being
  • so inconsiderable that they cause no inconvenience.
  • The Pritchard residence--a fine large building--occupies a site on one
  • side of the bay: a green lawn slopes off to the sea: and in front
  • waves the English flag. Across the water, the tricolour also, and the
  • stars and stripes, distinguish the residences of the other consuls.
  • What greatly added to the picturesqueness of the bay at this time was
  • the condemned hull of a large ship, which, at the farther end of the
  • harbour, lay bilged upon the beach, its stern settled low in the
  • water, and the other end high and dry. From where we lay, the trees
  • behind seemed to lock their leafy boughs over its bowsprit; which,
  • from its position, looked nearly upright.
  • She was an American whaler, a very old craft. Having sprung a leak at
  • sea, she had made all sail for the island, to heave down for repairs.
  • Found utterly unseaworthy, however, her oil was taken out and sent
  • home in another vessel; the hull was then stripped and sold for a
  • trifle.
  • Before leaving Tahiti, I had the curiosity to go over this poor old
  • ship, thus stranded on a strange shore. What were my emotions, when I
  • saw upon her stern the name of a small town on the river Hudson! She
  • was from the noble stream on whose banks I was born; in whose waters
  • I had a hundred times bathed. In an instant, palm-trees and
  • elms--canoes and skiffs--church spires and bamboos--all mingled in one
  • vision of the present and the past.
  • But we must not leave little Jule.
  • At last the wishes of many were gratified; and like an aeronaut's
  • grapnel, her rusty little anchor was caught in the coral groves at
  • the bottom of Papeetee Bay. This must have been more than forty days
  • after leaving the Marquesas.
  • The sails were yet unfurled, when a boat came alongside with our
  • esteemed friend Wilson, the consul.
  • "How's this, how's this, Mr. Jermin?" he began, looking very savage as
  • he touched the deck. "What brings you in without orders?"
  • "You did not come off to us, as you promised, sir; and there was no
  • hanging on longer with nobody to work the ship," was the blunt reply.
  • "So the infernal scoundrels held out--did they? Very good; I'll make
  • them sweat for it," and he eyed the scowling men with unwonted
  • intrepidity. The truth was, he felt safer now, than when outside the
  • reef.
  • "Muster the mutineers on the quarter-deck," he continued. "Drive them
  • aft, sir, sick and well: I have a word to say to them."
  • "Now, men," said he, "you think it's all well with you, I suppose. You
  • wished the ship in, and here she is. Captain Guy's ashore, and you
  • think you must go too: but we'll see about that--I'll miserably
  • disappoint you." (These last were his very words.) "Mr. Jermin, call
  • off the names of those who did not refuse duty, and let them go over
  • to the starboard side."
  • This done, a list was made out of the "mutineers," as he was pleased
  • to call the rest. Among these, the doctor and myself were included;
  • though the former stepped forward, and boldly pleaded the office held
  • by him when the vessel left Sydney. The mate also--who had always
  • been friendly--stated the service rendered by myself two nights
  • previous, as well as my conduct when he announced his intention to
  • enter the harbour. For myself, I stoutly maintained that, according
  • to the tenor of the agreement made with Captain Guy, my time aboard
  • the ship had expired--the cruise being virtually at an end, however
  • it had been brought about--and I claimed my discharge.
  • But Wilson would hear nothing. Marking something in my manner,
  • nevertheless, he asked my name and country; and then observed with a
  • sneer, "Ah, you are the lad, I see, that wrote the Round Robin; I'll
  • take good care of you, my fine fellow--step back, sir."
  • As for poor Long Ghost, he denounced him as a "Sydney Flash-Gorger";
  • though what under heaven he meant by that euphonious title is more
  • than I can tell. Upon this, the doctor gave him such a piece of his
  • mind that the consul furiously commanded him to hold his peace, or he
  • would instantly have him seized into the rigging and flogged. There
  • was no help for either of us--we were judged by the company we kept.
  • All were now sent forward; not a word being said as to what he
  • intended doing with us.
  • After a talk with the mate, the consul withdrew, going aboard the
  • French frigate, which lay within a cable's length. We now suspected
  • his object; and since matters had come to this pass, were rejoiced at
  • it. In a day or two the Frenchman was to sail for Valparaiso, the
  • usual place of rendezvous for the English squadron in the Pacific;
  • and doubtless, Wilson meant to put us on board, and send us thither to
  • be delivered up. Should our conjecture prove correct, all we had to
  • expect, according to our most experienced shipmates, was the fag end
  • of a cruise in one of her majesty's ships, and a discharge before
  • long at Portsmouth.
  • We now proceeded to put on all the clothes we could--frock over frock,
  • and trousers over trousers--so as to be in readiness for removal at a
  • moment's warning. Armed ships allow nothing superfluous to litter up
  • the deck; and therefore, should we go aboard the frigate, our chests
  • and their contents would have to be left behind.
  • In an hour's time, the first cutter of the Reine Blanche came
  • alongside, manned by eighteen or twenty sailors, armed with cutlasses
  • and boarding pistols--the officers, of course, wearing their
  • side-arms, and the consul in an official cocked hat borrowed for the
  • occasion. The boat was painted a "pirate black," its crew were a
  • dark, grim-looking set, and the officers uncommonly fierce-looking
  • little Frenchmen. On the whole they were calculated to intimidate--the
  • consul's object, doubtless, in bringing them.
  • Summoned aft again, everyone's name was called separately; and being
  • solemnly reminded that it was his last chance to escape punishment,
  • was asked if he still refused duty. The response was instantaneous:
  • "Ay, sir, I do." In some cases followed up by divers explanatory
  • observations, cut short by Wilson's ordering the delinquent to the
  • cutter. As a general thing, the order was promptly obeyed--some
  • taking a sequence of hops, skips, and jumps, by way of showing not
  • only their unimpaired activity of body, but their alacrity in
  • complying with all reasonable requests.
  • Having avowed their resolution not to pull another rope of the
  • Julia's--even if at once restored to perfect health--all the
  • invalids, with the exception of the two to be set ashore, accompanied
  • us into the cutter: They were in high spirits; so much so that
  • something was insinuated about their not having been quite as ill as
  • pretended.
  • The cooper's name was the last called; we did not hear what he
  • answered, but he stayed behind. Nothing was done about the Mowree.
  • Shoving clear from the ship, three loud cheers were raised; Flash Jack
  • and others receiving a sharp reprimand for it from the consul.
  • "Good-bye, Little Jule," cried Navy Bob, as we swept under the bows.
  • "Don't fall overboard, Ropey," said another to the poor landlubber,
  • who, with Wymontoo, the Dane, and others left behind, was looking
  • over at us from the forecastle.
  • "Give her three more!" cried Salem, springing to his feet and whirling
  • his hat round. "You sacre dam raakeel," shouted the lieutenant of
  • the party, bringing the flat of his sabre across his shoulders, "you
  • now keepy steel."
  • The doctor and myself, more discreet, sat quietly in the bow of the
  • cutter; and for my own part, though I did not repent what I had done,
  • my reflections were far from being enviable.
  • CHAPTER XXVIII.
  • RECEPTION FROM THE FRENCHMAN
  • IN a few moments, we were paraded in the frigate's gangway; the first
  • lieutenant--an elderly yellow-faced officer, in an ill-cut coat and
  • tarnished gold lace--coming up, and frowning upon us.
  • This gentleman's head was a mere bald spot; his legs, sticks; in
  • short, his whole physical vigour seemed exhausted in the production
  • of one enormous moustache. Old Gamboge, as he was forthwith
  • christened, now received a paper from the consul; and, opening it,
  • proceeded to compare the goods delivered with the invoice.
  • After being thoroughly counted, a meek little midshipman was called,
  • and we were soon after given in custody to half-a-dozen
  • sailor-soldiers--fellows with tarpaulins and muskets. Preceded by a
  • pompous functionary (whom we took for one of the ship's corporals,
  • from his ratan and the gold lace on his sleeve), we were now escorted
  • down the ladders to the berth-deck.
  • Here we were politely handcuffed, all round; the man with the bamboo
  • evincing the utmost solicitude in giving us a good fit from a large
  • basket of the articles of assorted sizes.
  • Taken by surprise at such an uncivil reception, a few of the party
  • demurred; but all coyness was, at last, overcome; and finally our
  • feet were inserted into heavy anklets of iron, running along a great
  • bar bolted down to the deck. After this, we considered ourselves
  • permanently established in our new quarters.
  • "The deuce take their old iron!" exclaimed the doctor; "if I'd known
  • this, I'd stayed behind."
  • "Ha, ha!" cried Flash Jack, "you're in for it, Doctor Long Ghost."
  • "My hands and feet are, any way," was the reply.
  • They placed a sentry over us; a great lubber of a fellow, who marched
  • up and down with a dilapidated old cutlass of most extraordinary
  • dimensions. From its length, we had some idea that it was expressly
  • intended to keep a crowd in order--reaching over the heads of
  • half-a-dozen, say, so as to get a cut at somebody behind.
  • "Mercy!" ejaculated the doctor with a shudder, "what a sensation it
  • must be to be killed by such a tool."
  • We fasted till night, when one of the boys came along with a couple of
  • "kids" containing a thin, saffron-coloured fluid, with oily particles
  • floating on top. The young wag told us this was soup: it turned out
  • to be nothing more than oleaginous warm water. Such as it was,
  • nevertheless, we were fain to make a meal of it, our sentry being
  • attentive enough to undo our bracelets. The "kids" passed from mouth
  • to mouth, and were soon emptied.
  • The next morning, when the sentry's back was turned, someone, whom we
  • took for an English sailor, tossed over a few oranges, the rinds of
  • which we afterward used for cups.
  • On the second day nothing happened worthy of record. On the third, we
  • were amused by the following scene.
  • A man, whom we supposed a boatswain's mate, from the silver whistle
  • hanging from his neck, came below, driving before him a couple of
  • blubbering boys, and followed by a whole troop of youngsters in
  • tears. The pair, it seemed, were sent down to be punished by command
  • of an officer; the rest had accompanied them out of sympathy.
  • The boatswain's mate went to work without delay, seizing the poor
  • little culprits by their loose frocks, and using a ratan without
  • mercy. The other boys wept, clasped their hands, and fell on their
  • knees; but in vain; the boatswain's mate only hit out at them; once
  • in a while making them yell ten times louder than ever.
  • In the midst of the tumult, down comes a midshipman, who, with a great
  • air, orders the man on deck, and running in among the boys, sets them
  • to scampering in all directions.
  • The whole of this proceeding was regarded with infinite scorn by Navy
  • Bob, who, years before, had been captain of the foretop on board a
  • line-of-battle ship. In his estimation, it was a lubberly piece of
  • business throughout: they did things differently in the English navy.
  • CHAPTER XXIX.
  • THE REINE BLANCHE
  • I CANNOT forbear a brief reflection upon the scene ending the last
  • chapter.
  • The ratanning of the young culprits, although significant of the
  • imperfect discipline of a French man-of-war, may also be considered
  • as in some measure characteristic of the nation.
  • In an American or English ship, a boy when flogged is either lashed to
  • the breech of a gun, or brought right up to the gratings, the same
  • way the men are. But as a general rule, he is never punished beyond
  • his strength. You seldom or never draw a cry from the young rogue. He
  • bites his tongue and stands up to it like a hero. If practicable
  • (which is not always the case), he makes a point of smiling under the
  • operation. And so far from his companions taking any compassion on
  • him, they always make merry over his misfortunes. Should he turn baby
  • and cry, they are pretty sure to give him afterward a sly pounding in
  • some dark corner.
  • This tough training produces its legitimate results. The boy becomes,
  • in time, a thoroughbred tar, equally ready to strip and take a dozen
  • on board his own ship, or, cutlass in hand, dash pell-mell on board
  • the enemy's. Whereas the young Frenchman, as all the world knows,
  • makes but an indifferent seaman; and though, for the most part, he
  • fights well enough, somehow or other he seldom fights well enough to
  • beat.
  • How few sea-battles have the French ever won! But more: how few ships
  • have they ever carried by the board--that true criterion of naval
  • courage! But not a word against French bravery--there is plenty of
  • it; but not of the right sort. A Yankee's, or an Englishman's, is the
  • downright Waterloo "game." The French fight better on land; and not
  • being essentially a maritime people, they ought to stay there. The
  • best of shipwrights, they are no sailors.
  • And this carries me back to the Reine Blanche, as noble a specimen of
  • what wood and iron can make as ever floated.
  • She was a new ship: the present her maiden cruise. The greatest pains
  • having been taken in her construction, she was accounted the "crack"
  • craft in the French navy. She is one of the heavy sixty-gun frigates
  • now in vogue all over the world, and which we Yankees were the first
  • to introduce. In action these are the most murderous vessels ever
  • launched.
  • The model of the Reine Blanche has all that warlike comeliness only to
  • be seen in a fine fighting ship. Still, there is a good deal of
  • French flummery about her--brass plates and other gewgaws stuck on
  • all over, like baubles on a handsome woman.
  • Among other things, she carries a stern gallery resting on the
  • uplifted hands of two Caryatides, larger than life. You step out upon
  • this from the commodore's cabin. To behold the rich hangings, and
  • mirrors, and mahogany within, one is almost prepared to see a bevy of
  • ladies trip forth on the balcony for an airing.
  • But come to tread the gun-deck, and all thoughts like these are put to
  • flight. Such batteries of thunderbolt hurlers! with a
  • sixty-eight-pounder or two thrown in as make-weights. On the spar-deck,
  • also, are carronades of enormous calibre.
  • Recently built, this vessel, of course, had the benefit of the latest
  • improvements. I was quite amazed to see on what high principles of
  • art some exceedingly simple things were done. But your Gaul is
  • scientific about everything; what other people accomplish by a few
  • hard knocks, he delights in achieving by a complex arrangement of the
  • pulley, lever, and screw.
  • What demi-semi-quavers in a French air! In exchanging naval
  • courtesies, I have known a French band play "Yankee Doodle" with such
  • a string of variations that no one but a "pretty 'cute" Yankee could
  • tell what they were at.
  • In the French navy they have no marines; their men, taking turns at
  • carrying the musket, are sailors one moment, and soldiers the next; a
  • fellow running aloft in his line frock to-day, to-morrow stands
  • sentry at the admiral's cabin door. This is fatal to anything like
  • proper sailor pride. To make a man a seaman, he should be put to no
  • other duty. Indeed, a thorough tar is unfit for anything else; and
  • what is more, this fact is the best evidence of his being a true
  • sailor.
  • On board the Reine Blanche, they did not have enough to eat; and what
  • they did have was not of the right sort. Instead of letting the
  • sailors file their teeth against the rim of a hard sea-biscuit, they
  • baked their bread daily in pitiful little rolls. Then they had no
  • "grog"; as a substitute, they drugged the poor fellows with a thin,
  • sour wine--the juice of a few grapes, perhaps, to a pint of the juice
  • of water-faucets. Moreover, the sailors asked for meat, and they
  • gave them soup; a rascally substitute, as they well knew.
  • Ever since leaving home, they had been on "short allowance." At the
  • present time, those belonging to the boats--and thus getting an
  • occasional opportunity to run ashore--frequently sold their rations
  • of bread to some less fortunate shipmate for sixfold its real value.
  • Another thing tending to promote dissatisfaction among the crew was
  • their having such a devil of a fellow for a captain. He was one of
  • those horrid naval bores--a great disciplinarian. In port, he kept
  • them constantly exercising yards and sails, and maneuvering with the
  • boats; and at sea, they were forever at quarters; running in and out
  • the enormous guns, as if their arms were made for nothing else. Then
  • there was the admiral aboard, also; and, no doubt, he too had a
  • paternal eye over them.
  • In the ordinary routine of duty, we could not but be struck with the
  • listless, slovenly behaviour of these men; there was nothing of the
  • national vivacity in their movements; nothing of the quick precision
  • perceptible on the deck of a thoroughly-disciplined armed vessel.
  • All this, however, when we came to know the reason, was no matter of
  • surprise; three-fourths of them were pressed men. Some old merchant
  • sailors had been seized the very day they landed from distant
  • voyages; while the landsmen, of whom there were many, had been driven
  • down from the country in herds, and so sent to sea.
  • At the time, I was quite amazed to hear of press-gangs in a day of
  • comparative peace; but the anomaly is accounted for by the fact that,
  • of late, the French have been building up a great military marine, to
  • take the place of that which Nelson gave to the waves of the sea at
  • Trafalgar. But it is to be hoped that they are not building their
  • ships for the people across the channel to take. In case of a war,
  • what a fluttering of French ensigns there would be!
  • Though I say the French are no sailors, I am far from seeking to
  • underrate them as a people. They are an ingenious and right gallant
  • nation. And, as an American, I take pride in asserting it.
  • CHAPTER XXX.
  • THEY TAKE US ASHORE--WHAT HAPPENED THERE
  • FIVE days and nights, if I remember right, we were aboard the frigate.
  • On the afternoon of the fifth, we were told that the next morning she
  • sailed for Valparaiso. Rejoiced at this, we prayed for a speedy
  • passage. But, as it turned out, the consul had no idea of letting us
  • off so easily. To our no small surprise, an officer came along toward
  • night, and ordered us out of irons. Being then mustered in the
  • gangway, we were escorted into a cutter alongside, and pulled ashore.
  • Accosted by Wilson as we struck the beach, he delivered us up to a
  • numerous guard of natives, who at once conducted us to a house near
  • by. Here we were made to sit down under a shade without; and the
  • consul and two elderly European residents passed by us, and entered.
  • After some delay, during which we were much diverted by the hilarious
  • good-nature of our guard--one of our number was called out for,
  • followed by an order for him to enter the house alone.
  • On returning a moment after, he told us we had little to encounter. It
  • had simply been asked whether he still continued of the same mind; on
  • replying yes, something was put down upon a piece of paper, and he
  • was waved outside. All being summoned in rotation, my own turn came
  • at last.
  • Within, Wilson and his two friends were seated magisterially at a
  • table--an inkstand, a pen, and a sheet of paper lending quite a
  • business-like air to the apartment. These three gentlemen, being
  • arrayed in coats and pantaloons, looked respectable, at least in a
  • country where complete suits of garments are so seldom met with. One
  • present essayed a solemn aspect; but having a short neck and full
  • face, only made out to look stupid.
  • It was this individual who condescended to take a paternal interest in
  • myself. After declaring my resolution with respect to the ship
  • unalterable, I was proceeding to withdraw, in compliance with a sign
  • from the consul, when the stranger turned round to him, saying, "Wait
  • a minute, if you please, Mr. Wilson; let me talk to that youth. Come
  • here, my young friend: I'm extremely sorry to see you associated with
  • these bad men; do you know what it will end in?"
  • "Oh, that's the lad that wrote the Round Robin," interposed the
  • consul. "He and that rascally doctor are at the bottom of the whole
  • affair--go outside, sir."
  • I retired as from the presence of royalty; backing out with many
  • bows.
  • The evident prejudice of Wilson against both the doctor and myself was
  • by no means inexplicable. A man of any education before the mast is
  • always looked upon with dislike by his captain; and, never mind how
  • peaceable he may be, should any disturbance arise, from his
  • intellectual superiority, he is deemed to exert an underhand
  • influence against the officers.
  • Little as I had seen of Captain Guy, the few glances cast upon me
  • after being on board a week or so were sufficient to reveal his
  • enmity--a feeling quickened by my undisguised companionship with Long
  • Ghost, whom he both feared and cordially hated. Guy's relations with
  • the consul readily explains the latter's hostility.
  • The examination over, Wilson and his friends advanced to the doorway;
  • when the former, assuming a severe expression, pronounced our
  • perverseness infatuation in the extreme. Nor was there any hope left:
  • our last chance for pardon was gone. Even were we to become contrite
  • and crave permission to return to duty, it would not now be
  • permitted.
  • "Oh! get along with your gammon, counsellor," exclaimed Black Dan,
  • absolutely indignant that his understanding should be thus insulted.
  • Quite enraged, Wilson bade him hold his peace; and then, summoning a
  • fat old native to his side, addressed him in Tahitian, giving
  • directions for leading us away to a place of safe keeping.
  • Hereupon, being marshalled in order, with the old man at our head, we
  • were put in motion, with loud shouts, along a fine pathway, running
  • far on through wide groves of the cocoa-nut and bread-fruit.
  • The rest of our escort trotted on beside us in high good-humour;
  • jabbering broken English, and in a hundred ways giving us to
  • understand that Wilson was no favourite of theirs, and that we were
  • prime, good fellows for holding out as we did. They seemed to know
  • our whole history.
  • The scenery around was delightful. The tropical day was fast drawing
  • to a close; and from where we were, the sun looked like a vast red
  • fire burning in the woodlands--its rays falling aslant through the
  • endless ranks of trees, and every leaf fringed with flame. Escaped
  • from the confined decks of the frigate, the air breathed spices to
  • us; streams were heard flowing; green boughs were rocking; and far
  • inland, all sunset flushed, rose the still, steep peaks of the
  • island.
  • As we proceeded, I was more and more struck by the picturesqueness of
  • the wide, shaded road. In several places, durable bridges of wood
  • were thrown over large water-courses; others were spanned by a single
  • arch of stone. In any part of the road, three horsemen might have
  • ridden abreast.
  • This beautiful avenue--by far the best thing which civilization has
  • done for the island--is called by foreigners "the Broom Road," though
  • for what reason I do not know. Originally planned for the convenience
  • of the missionaries journeying from one station to another, it almost
  • completely encompasses the larger peninsula; skirting for a distance
  • of at least sixty miles along the low, fertile lands bordering the
  • sea. But on the side next Taiarboo, or the lesser peninsula, it
  • sweeps through a narrow, secluded valley, and thus crosses the island
  • in that direction.
  • The uninhabited interior, being almost impenetrable from the
  • densely-wooded glens, frightful precipices, and sharp mountain ridges
  • absolutely inaccessible, is but little known, even to the natives
  • themselves; and so, instead of striking directly across from one
  • village to another, they follow the Broom Road round and round.
  • It is by no means, however, altogether travelled on foot; horses being
  • now quite plentiful. They were introduced from Chili; and possessing
  • all the gaiety, fleetness, and docility of the Spanish breed, are
  • admirably adapted to the tastes of the higher classes, who as
  • equestrians have become very expert. The missionaries and chiefs
  • never think of journeying except in the saddle; and at all hours of
  • the day you see the latter galloping along at full speed. Like the
  • Sandwich Islanders, they ride like Pawnee-Loups.
  • For miles and miles I have travelled the Broom Road, and never wearied
  • of the continual change of scenery. But wherever it leads
  • you--whether through level woods, across grassy glens, or over hills
  • waving with palms--the bright blue sea on one side, and the green
  • mountain pinnacles on the other, are always in sight.
  • CHAPTER XXXI.
  • THE CALABOOZA BERETANEE
  • ABOUT a mile from the village we came to a halt.
  • It was a beautiful spot. A mountain stream here flowed at the foot of
  • a verdant slope; on one hand, it murmured along until the waters,
  • spreading themselves upon a beach of small, sparkling shells,
  • trickled into the sea; on the other was a long defile, where the eye
  • pursued a gleaming, sinuous thread, lost in shade and verdure.
  • The ground next the road was walled in by a low, rude parapet of
  • stones; and, upon the summit of the slope beyond, was a large, native
  • house, the thatch dazzling white, and in shape an oval.
  • "Calabooza! Calabooza Beretanee!" (the English Jail), cried our
  • conductor, pointing to the building.
  • For a few months past, having been used by the consul as a house of
  • confinement for his refractory sailors, it was thus styled to
  • distinguish it from similar places in and about Papeetee.
  • Though extremely romantic in appearance, on a near approach it proved
  • hut ill adapted to domestic comfort. In short, it was a mere shell,
  • recently built, and still unfinished. It was open all round, and
  • tufts of grass were growing here and there under the very roof. The
  • only piece of furniture was the "stocks," a clumsy machine for
  • keeping people in one place, which, I believe, is pretty much out of
  • date in most countries. It is still in use, however, among the
  • Spaniards in South America; from whom, it seems, the Tahitians have
  • borrowed the contrivance, as well as the name by which all places of
  • confinement are known among them.
  • The stocks were nothing more than two stout timbers, about twenty feet
  • in length, and precisely alike. One was placed edgeways on the
  • ground, and the other, resting on top, left, at regular intervals
  • along the seam, several round holes, the object of which was evident
  • at a glance.
  • By this time, our guide had informed us that he went by the name of
  • "Capin Bob" (Captain Bob); and a hearty old Bob he proved. It was
  • just the name for him. From the first, so pleased were we with the
  • old man that we cheerfully acquiesced in his authority.
  • Entering the building, he set us about fetching heaps of dry leaves to
  • spread behind the stocks for a couch. A trunk of a small cocoa-nut
  • tree was then placed for a bolster--rather a hard one, but the
  • natives are used to it. For a pillow, they use a little billet of
  • wood, scooped out, and standing on four short legs--a sort of
  • head-stool.
  • These arrangements completed, Captain Bob proceeded to "hanna-par," or
  • secure us, for the night. The upper timber of the machine being
  • lifted at one end, and our ankles placed in the semicircular spaces
  • of the lower one, the other beam was then, dropped; both being
  • finally secured together by an old iron hoop at either extremity.
  • This initiation was performed to the boisterous mirth of the natives,
  • and diverted ourselves not a little.
  • Captain Bob now bustled about, like an old woman seeing the children
  • to bed. A basket of baked "taro," or Indian turnip, was brought in,
  • and we were given a piece all round. Then a great counterpane of
  • coarse, brown "tappa," was stretched over the whole party; and, after
  • sundry injunctions to "moee-moee," and be "maitai"--in other words,
  • to go to sleep, and be good boys--we were left to ourselves, fairly
  • put to bed and tucked in.
  • Much talk was now had concerning our prospects in life; but the doctor
  • and I, who lay side by side, thinking the occasion better adapted to
  • meditation, kept pretty silent; and, before long, the rest ceased
  • conversing, and, wearied with loss of rest on board the frigate, were
  • soon sound asleep.
  • After sliding from one reverie into another, I started, and gave the
  • doctor a pinch. He was dreaming, however; and, resolved to follow his
  • example, I troubled him no more.
  • How the rest managed, I know not; but for my own part, I found it very
  • hard to get to sleep. The consciousness of having one's foot pinned;
  • and the impossibility of getting it anywhere else than just where it
  • was, was most distressing.
  • But this was not all: there was no way of lying but straight on your
  • back; unless, to be sure, one's limb went round and round in the
  • ankle, like a swivel. Upon getting into a sort of doze, it was no
  • wonder this uneasy posture gave me the nightmare. Under the delusion
  • that I was about some gymnastics or other, I gave my unfortunate
  • member such a twitch that I started up with the idea that someone was
  • dragging the stocks away.
  • Captain Bob and his friends lived in a little hamlet hard by; and when
  • morning showed in the East, the old gentleman came forth from that
  • direction likewise, emerging from a grove, and saluting us loudly as
  • he approached.
  • Finding everybody awake, he set us at liberty; and, leading us down to
  • the stream, ordered every man to strip and bathe.
  • "All han's, my boy, hanna-hanna, wash!" he cried. Bob was a linguist,
  • and had been to sea in his day, as he many a time afterwards told us.
  • At this moment, we were all alone with him; and it would have been the
  • easiest thing in the world to have given him the slip; but he seemed
  • to have no idea of such a thing; treating us so frankly and
  • cordially, indeed, that even had we thought of running, we should
  • have been ashamed of attempting it. He very well knew, nevertheless
  • (as we ourselves were not slow in finding out), that, for various
  • reasons, any attempt of the kind, without some previously arranged
  • plan for leaving the island, would be certain to fail.
  • As Bob was a rare one every way, I must give some account of him.
  • There was a good deal of "personal appearance" about him; in short,
  • he was a corpulent giant, over six feet in height, and literally as
  • big round as a hogshead. The enormous bulk of some of the Tahitians
  • has been frequently spoken of by voyagers.
  • Beside being the English consul's jailer, as it were, he carried on a
  • little Tahitian farming; that is to say, he owned several groves of
  • the bread-fruit and palm, and never hindered their growing. Close by
  • was a "taro" patch of his which he occasionally visited.
  • Bob seldom disposed of the produce of his lands; it was all needed for
  • domestic consumption. Indeed, for gormandizing, I would have matched
  • him against any three common-council men at a civic feast.
  • A friend of Bob's told me that, owing to his voraciousness, his visits
  • to other parts of the island were much dreaded; for, according to
  • Tahitian customs, hospitality without charge is enjoined upon
  • everyone; and though it is reciprocal in most cases, in Bob's it was
  • almost out of the question. The damage done to a native larder in one
  • of his morning calls was more than could be made good by his
  • entertainer's spending the holidays with them.
  • The old man, as I have hinted, had, once upon a time, been a cruise or
  • two in a whaling-vessel; and, therefore, he prided himself upon his
  • English. Having acquired what he knew of it in the forecastle, he
  • talked little else than sailor phrases, which sounded whimsically
  • enough.
  • I asked him one day how old he was. "Olee?" he exclaimed, looking very
  • profound in consequence of thoroughly understanding so subtile a
  • question--"Oh! very olee--'tousand 'ear--more--big man when Capin
  • Tootee (Captain Cook) heavey in sight." (In sea parlance, came into
  • view.)
  • This was a thing impossible; but adapting my discourse to the man, I
  • rejoined--"Ah! you see Capin Tootee--well, how you like him?"
  • "Oh! he maitai: (good) friend of me, and know my wife."
  • On my assuring him strongly that he could not have been born at the
  • time, he explained himself by saying that he was speaking of his
  • father, all the while. This, indeed, might very well have been.
  • It is a curious fact that all these people, young and old, will tell
  • you that they have enjoyed the honour of a personal acquaintance with
  • the great navigator; and if you listen to them, they will go on and
  • tell anecdotes without end. This springs from nothing but their great
  • desire to please; well knowing that a more agreeable topic for a
  • white man could not be selected. As for the anachronism of the thing,
  • they seem to have no idea of it: days and years are all the same to
  • them.
  • After our sunrise bath, Bob once more placed us in the stocks, almost
  • moved to tears at subjecting us to so great a hardship; but he could
  • not treat us otherwise, he said, on pain of the consul's displeasure.
  • How long we were to be confined, he did not know; nor what was to be
  • done with us in the end.
  • As noon advanced, and no signs of a meal were visible, someone
  • inquired whether we were to be boarded, as well as lodged, at the
  • Hotel de Calabooza?
  • "Vast heavey" (avast heaving, or wait a bit)--said Bob--"kow-kow"
  • (food) "come ship by by."
  • And, sure enough, along comes Rope Tarn with a wooden bucket of the
  • Julia's villainous biscuit. With a grin, he said it was a present
  • from Wilson: it was all we were to get that day. A great cry was now
  • raised; and well was it for the land-lubber that lie had a pair of
  • legs, and the men could not use theirs. One and all, we resolved not
  • to touch the bread, come what come might; and so we told the natives.
  • Being extravagantly fond of ship-biscuit--the harder the better--they
  • were quite overjoyed; and offered to give us, every day, a small
  • quantity of baked bread-fruit and Indian turnip in exchange for the
  • bread. This we agreed to; and every morning afterward, when the
  • bucket came, its contents were at once handed over to Bob and his
  • friends, who never ceased munching until nightfall.
  • Our exceedingly frugal meal of bread-fruit over, Captain Bob waddled
  • up to us with a couple of long poles hooked at one end, and several
  • large baskets of woven cocoa-nut branches.
  • Not far off was an extensive grove of orange-trees in full bearing;
  • and myself and another were selected to go with him, and gather a
  • supply for the party. When we went in among the trees, the
  • sumptuousness of the orchard was unlike anything I had ever seen;
  • while the fragrance shaken from the gently waving boughs regaled our
  • senses most delightfully.
  • In many places the trees formed a dense shade, spreading overhead a
  • dark, rustling vault, groined with boughs, and studded here and there
  • with the ripened spheres, like gilded balls. In several places, the
  • overladen branches were borne to the earth, hiding the trunk in a
  • tent of foliage. Once fairly in the grove, we could see nothing else;
  • it was oranges all round.
  • To preserve the fruit from bruising, Bob, hooking the twigs with his
  • pole, let them fall into his basket. But this would not do for us.
  • Seizing hold of a bough, we brought such a shower to the ground that
  • our old friend was fain to run from under. Heedless of remonstrance,
  • we then reclined in the shade, and feasted to our heart's content.
  • Heaping up the baskets afterwards, we returned to our comrades, by
  • whom our arrival was hailed with loud plaudits; and in a marvellously
  • short time, nothing was left of the oranges we brought but the rinds.
  • While inmates of the Calabooza, we had as much of the fruit as we
  • wanted; and to this cause, and others that might be mentioned, may be
  • ascribed the speedy restoration of our sick to comparative health.
  • The orange of Tahiti is delicious--small and sweet, with a thin, dry
  • rind. Though now abounding, it was unknown before Cook's time, to
  • whom the natives are indebted for so great a blessing. He likewise
  • introduced several other kinds of fruit; among these were the fig,
  • pineapple, and lemon, now seldom met with. The lime still grows, and
  • some of the poorer natives express the juice to sell to the shipping.
  • It is highly valued as an anti-scorbutic. Nor was the variety of
  • foreign fruits and vegetables which were introduced the only benefit
  • conferred by the first visitors to the Society group. Cattle and
  • sheep were left at various places. More of them anon.
  • Thus, after all that of late years has been done for these islanders,
  • Cook and Vancouver may, in one sense at least, be considered their
  • greatest benefactors.
  • CHAPTER XXXII.
  • PROCEEDINGS OF THE FRENCH AT TAHITI
  • AS I happened to arrive at the island at a very interesting period in
  • its political affairs, it may be well to give some little account
  • here of the proceedings of the French, by way of episode to the
  • narrative. My information was obtained at the time from the general
  • reports then rife among the natives, as well as from what I learned
  • upon a subsequent visit, and reliable accounts which I have seen
  • since reaching home.
  • It seems that for some time back the French had been making repeated
  • ineffectual attempts to plant a Roman Catholic mission here. But,
  • invariably treated with contumely, they sometimes met with open
  • violence; and, in every case, those directly concerned in the
  • enterprise were ultimately forced to depart. In one instance, two
  • priests, Laval and Caset, after enduring a series of persecutions,
  • were set upon by the natives, maltreated, and finally carried aboard
  • a small trading schooner, which eventually put them ashore at Wallis'
  • island--a savage place--some two thousand miles to the westward.
  • Now, that the resident English missionaries authorized the banishment
  • of these priests is a fact undenied by themselves. I was also
  • repeatedly informed that by their inflammatory harangues they
  • instigated the riots which preceded the sailing of the schooner. At
  • all events, it is certain that their unbounded influence with the
  • natives would easily have enabled them to prevent everything that
  • took place on this occasion, had they felt so inclined.
  • Melancholy as such an example of intolerance on the part of Protestant
  • missionaries must appear, it is not the only one, and by no means the
  • most flagrant, which might be presented. But I forbear to mention any
  • others; since they have been more than hinted at by recent voyagers,
  • and their repetition here would perhaps be attended with no good
  • effect. Besides, the conduct of the Sandwich Island missionaries in
  • particular has latterly much amended in this respect.
  • The treatment of the two priests formed the principal ground (and the
  • only justifiable one) upon which Du Petit Thouars demanded
  • satisfaction; and which subsequently led to his seizure of the
  • island. In addition to other things, he also charged that the flag of
  • Merenhout, the consul, had been repeatedly insulted, and the property
  • of a certain French resident violently appropriated by the
  • government. In the latter instance, the natives were perfectly in the
  • right. At that time, the law against the traffic in ardent spirits
  • (every now and then suspended and revived) happened to be in force;
  • and finding a large quantity on the premises of Victor, a low,
  • knavish adventurer from Marseilles, the Tahitians pronounced it
  • forfeit.
  • For these, and similar alleged outrages, a large pecuniary restitution
  • was demanded (10,000 dollars), which there being no exchequer to
  • supply, the island was forthwith seized, under cover of a mock
  • treaty, dictated to the chiefs on the gun-deck of Du Petit Thouars'
  • frigate.
  • But, notwithstanding this formality, there seems now little doubt that
  • the downfall of the Pomarees was decided upon at the Tuilleries.
  • After establishing the Protectorate, so called, the rear-admiral
  • sailed; leaving M. Bruat governor, assisted by Reine and Carpegne,
  • civilians, named members of the Council of Government, and Merenhout,
  • the consul, now made Commissioner Royal. No soldiers, however, were
  • landed until several months afterward. As men, Reine and Carpegne
  • were not disliked by the natives; but Bruat and Merenhout they
  • bitterly detested. In several interviews with the poor queen, the
  • unfeeling governor sought to terrify her into compliance with his
  • demands; clapping his hand upon his sword, shaking his fist in her
  • face, and swearing violently. "Oh, king of a great nation," said
  • Pomaree, in her letter to Louis Philippe, "fetch away this man; I and
  • my people cannot endure his evil doings. He is a shameless man."
  • Although the excitement among the natives did not wholly subside upon
  • the rear-admiral's departure, no overt act of violence immediately
  • followed. The queen had fled to Imeeo; and the dissensions among the
  • chiefs, together with the ill-advised conduct of the missionaries,
  • prevented a union upon some common plan of resistance. But the great
  • body of the people, as well as their queen, confidently relied upon
  • the speedy interposition of England--a nation bound to them by many
  • ties, and which, more than once, had solemnly guaranteed their
  • independence.
  • As for the missionaries, they openly defied the French governor,
  • childishly predicting fleets and armies from Britain. But what is the
  • welfare of a spot like Tahiti to the mighty interests of France and
  • England! There was a remonstrance on one side, and a reply on the
  • other; and there the matter rested. For once in their brawling lives,
  • St. George and St. Denis were hand and glove; and they were not
  • going to cross sabres about Tahiti.
  • During my stay upon the island, so far as I could see, there was
  • little to denote that any change had taken place in the government.
  • Such laws as they had were administered the same as ever; the
  • missionaries went about unmolested, and comparative tranquillity
  • everywhere prevailed. Nevertheless, I sometimes heard the natives
  • inveighing against the French (no favourites, by the bye, throughout
  • Polynesia), and bitterly regretting that the queen had not, at the
  • outset, made a stand.
  • In the house of the chief Adeea, frequent discussions took place
  • concerning the ability of the island to cope with the French: the
  • number of fighting men and muskets among the natives were talked of,
  • as well as the propriety of fortifying several heights overlooking
  • Papeetee. Imputing these symptoms to the mere resentment of a recent
  • outrage, and not to any determined spirit of resistance, I little
  • anticipated the gallant, though useless warfare, so soon to follow my
  • departure.
  • At a period subsequent to my first visit, the island, which before was
  • divided into nineteen districts, with a native chief over each, in
  • capacity of governor and judge, was, by Bruat, divided into four.
  • Over these he set as many recreant chiefs, Kitoti, Tati, Utamai, and
  • Paraita; to whom he paid 1000 dollars each, to secure their
  • assistance in carrying out his evil designs.
  • The first blood shed, in any regular conflict, was at Mahanar, upon
  • the peninsula of Taraiboo. The fight originated in the seizure of a
  • number of women from the shore by men belonging to one of the French
  • vessels of war. In this affair, the islanders fought desperately,
  • killing about fifty of the enemy, and losing ninety of their own
  • number. The French sailors and marines, who, at the time, were
  • reported to be infuriated with liquor, gave no quarter; and the
  • survivors only saved themselves by fleeing to the mountains.
  • Subsequently, the battles of Hararparpi and Fararar were fought, in
  • which the invaders met with indifferent success.
  • Shortly after the engagement at Hararparpi, three Frenchmen were
  • waylaid in a pass of the valleys, and murdered by the incensed
  • natives. One was Lefevre, a notorious scoundrel, and a spy, whom
  • Bruat had sent to conduct a certain Major Fergus (said to be a Pole)
  • to the hiding-place of four chiefs, whom the governor wished to seize
  • and execute. This circumstance violently inflamed the hostility of
  • both parties.
  • About this time, Kitoti, a depraved chief, and the pliant tool of
  • Bruat, was induced by him to give a great feast in the Vale of Paree,
  • to which all his countrymen were invited. The governor's object was
  • to gain over all he could to his interests; he supplied an abundance
  • of wine and brandy, and a scene of bestial intoxication was the
  • natural consequence. Before it came to this, however, several speeches
  • were made by the islanders. One of these, delivered by an aged
  • warrior, who had formerly been at the head of the celebrated Aeorai
  • Society, was characteristic. "This is a very good feast," said the
  • reeling old man, "and the wine also is very good; but you evil-minded
  • Wee-Wees (French), and you false-hearted men of Tahiti, are all very
  • bad."
  • By the latest accounts, most of the islanders still refuse to submit
  • to the French; and what turn events may hereafter take, it is hard to
  • predict. At any rate, these disorders must accelerate the final
  • extinction of their race.
  • Along with the few officers left by Du Petit Thouars were several
  • French priests, for whose unobstructed exertions in the dissemination
  • of their faith, the strongest guarantees were provided by an article
  • of the treaty. But no one was bound to offer them facilities; much
  • less a luncheon, the first day they went ashore. True, they had
  • plenty of gold; but to the natives it was anathema--taboo--and, for
  • several hours and some odd minutes, they would not touch it.
  • Emissaries of the Pope and the devil, as the strangers were
  • considered--the smell of sulphur hardly yet shaken out of their
  • canonicals--what islander would venture to jeopardize his soul, and
  • call down a blight on his breadfruit, by holding any intercourse with
  • them! That morning the priests actually picknicked in grove of
  • cocoa-nut trees; but, before night, Christian hospitality--in
  • exchange for a commercial equivalent of hard dollars--was given them
  • in an adjoining house.
  • Wanting in civility, as the conduct of the English missionaries may be
  • thought, in withholding a decent reception to these persons, the
  • latter were certainly to blame in needlessly placing themselves in
  • so unpleasant a predicament. Under far better auspices, they might
  • have settled upon some one of the thousand unconverted isles of the
  • Pacific, rather than have forced themselves thus upon a people
  • already professedly Christians.
  • CHAPTER XXXIII.
  • WE RECEIVE CALLS AT THE HOTEL DE CALABOOZA
  • OUR place of confinement being open all round, and so near the Broom
  • Road, of course we were in plain sight of everybody passing; and,
  • therefore, we had no lack of visitors among such an idle, inquisitive
  • set as the Tahitians. For a few days, they were coming and going
  • continually; while, thus ignobly fast by the foot, we were fain to
  • give passive audience.
  • During this period, we were the lions of the neighbourhood; and, no
  • doubt, strangers from the distant villages were taken to see the
  • "Karhowrees" (white men), in the same way that countrymen, in a city,
  • are gallanted to the Zoological Gardens.
  • All this gave us a fine opportunity of making observations. I was
  • painfully struck by the considerable number of sickly or deformed
  • persons; undoubtedly made so by a virulent complaint, which, under
  • native treatment, almost invariably affects, in the end, the muscles
  • and bones of the body. In particular, there is a distortion of the
  • back, most unsightly to behold, originating in a horrible form of the
  • malady.
  • Although this, and other bodily afflictions, were unknown before the
  • discovery of the islands by the whites, there are several cases found
  • of the Fa-Fa, or Elephantiasis--a native disease, which seems to have
  • prevailed among them from the earliest antiquity. Affecting the legs
  • and feet alone, it swells them, in some instances, to the girth of a
  • man's body, covering the skin with scales. It might be supposed that
  • one, thus afflicted, would be incapable of walking; but, to all
  • appearance, they seem to be nearly as active as anybody; apparently
  • suffering no pain, and bearing the calamity with a degree of
  • cheerfulness truly marvellous.
  • The Fa-Fa is very gradual in its approaches, and years elapse before
  • the limb is fully swollen. Its origin is ascribed by the natives to
  • various causes; but the general impression seems to be that it
  • arises, in most cases, from the eating of unripe bread-fruit and
  • Indian turnip. So far as I could find out, it is not hereditary. In no
  • stage do they attempt a cure; the complaint being held incurable.
  • Speaking of the Fa-Fa reminds me of a poor fellow, a sailor, whom I
  • afterward saw at Roorootoo, a lone island, some two days' sail from
  • Tahiti.
  • The island is very small, and its inhabitants nearly extinct. We sent
  • a boat off to see whether any yams were to be had, as, formerly, the
  • yams of Roorootoo were as famous among the islands round about, as
  • Sicily oranges in the Mediterranean. Going ashore, to my surprise, I
  • was accosted, near a little shanty of a church, by a white man, who
  • limped forth from a wretched hut. His hair and beard were unshorn,
  • his face deadly pale and haggard, and one limb swelled with the Fa-Fa
  • to an incredible bigness. This was the first instance of a foreigner
  • suffering from it that I had ever seen, or heard of; and the
  • spectacle shocked me accordingly.
  • He had been there for years. From the first symptoms, he could not
  • believe his complaint to be what it really was, and trusted it would
  • soon disappear. But when it became plain that his only chance for
  • recovery was a speedy change of climate, no ship would receive him as
  • a sailor: to think of being taken as a passenger was idle. This
  • speaks little for the humanity of sea captains; but the truth is that
  • those in the Pacific have little enough of the virtue; and, nowadays,
  • when so many charitable appeals are made to them, they have become
  • callous.
  • I pitied the poor fellow from the bottom of my heart; but nothing
  • could I do, as our captain was inexorable. "Why," said he, "here we
  • are--started on a six months' cruise--I can't put back; and he is
  • better off on the island than at sea. So on Roorootoo he must die."
  • And probably he did.
  • I afterwards heard of this melancholy object, from two seamen. His
  • attempts to leave were still unavailing, and his hard fate was fast
  • closing in.
  • Notwithstanding the physical degeneracy of the Tahitians as a people,
  • among the chiefs, individuals of personable figures are still
  • frequently met with; and, occasionally, majestic-looking men, and
  • diminutive women as lovely as the nymphs who, nearly a century ago,
  • swam round the ships of Wallis. In these instances, Tahitian beauty
  • is quite as seducing as it proved to the crew of the Bounty; the
  • young girls being just such creatures as a poet would picture in the
  • tropics--soft, plump, and dreamy-eyed.
  • The natural complexion of both sexes is quite light; but the males
  • appear much darker, from their exposure to the sun. A dark
  • complexion, however, in a man, is highly esteemed, as indicating
  • strength of both body and soul. Hence there is a saying, of great
  • antiquity among them.
  • "If dark the cheek of the mother, The son will sound the war-conch; If
  • strong her frame, he will give laws."
  • With this idea of manliness, no wonder the Tahitians regarded all pale
  • and tepid-looking Europeans as weak and feminine; whereas, a sailor,
  • with a cheek like the breast of a roast turkey, is held a lad of
  • brawn: to use their own phrase, a "taata tona," or man of bones.
  • Speaking of bones recalls an ugly custom of theirs, now obsolete--that
  • of making fish-hooks and gimlets out of those of their enemies. This
  • beats the Scandinavians turning people's skulls into cups and
  • saucers.
  • But to return to the Calabooza Beretanee. Immense was the interest we
  • excited among the throngs that called there; they would stand talking
  • about us by the hour, growing most unnecessarily excited too, and
  • dancing up and down with all the vivacity of their race. They
  • invariably sided with us; flying out against the consul, and
  • denouncing him as "Ita maitai nuee," or very bad exceedingly. They
  • must have borne him some grudge or other.
  • Nor were the women, sweet souls, at all backward in visiting. Indeed,
  • they manifested even more interest than the men; gazing at us with
  • eyes full of a thousand meanings, and conversing with marvellous
  • rapidity. But, alas! inquisitive though they were, and, doubtless,
  • taking some passing compassion on us, there was little real feeling
  • in them after all, and still less sentimental sympathy. Many of them
  • laughed outright at us, noting only what was ridiculous in our
  • plight.
  • I think it was the second day of our confinement that a wild,
  • beautiful girl burst into the Calabooza, and, throwing herself into
  • an arch attitude, stood afar off, and gazed at us. She was a
  • heartless one:--tickled to death with Black Dan's nursing his chafed
  • ankle, and indulging in certain moral reflections on the consul and
  • Captain Guy. After laughing her fill at him, she condescended to
  • notice the rest; glancing from one to another in the most methodical
  • and provoking manner imaginable. Whenever anything struck her
  • comically, you saw it like a flash--her finger levelled
  • instantaneously, and, flinging herself back, she gave loose to
  • strange, hollow little notes of laughter, that sounded like the bass
  • of a music-box, playing a lively air with the lid down.
  • Now, I knew not that there was anything in my own appearance
  • calculated to disarm ridicule; and indeed, to have looked at all
  • heroic, under the circumstances, would have been rather difficult.
  • Still, I could not but feel exceedingly annoyed at the prospect of
  • being screamed at, in turn, by this mischievous young witch, even
  • though she were but an islander. And, to tell a secret, her beauty
  • had something to do with this sort of feeling; and, pinioned as I was
  • to a log, and clad most unbecomingly, I began to grow sentimental.
  • Ere her glance fell upon me, I had, unconsciously, thrown myself into
  • the most graceful attitude I could assume, leaned my head upon my
  • hand, and summoned up as abstracted an expression as possible. Though
  • my face was averted, I soon felt it flush, and knew that the glance
  • was on me; deeper and deeper grew the flush, and not a sound of
  • laughter.
  • Delicious thought! she was moved at the sight of me. I could stand it
  • no longer, but started up. Lo! there she was; her great hazel eyes
  • rounding and rounding in her head, like two stars, her whole frame in
  • a merry quiver, and an expression about the mouth that was sudden and
  • violent death to anything like sentiment.
  • The next moment she spun round, and, bursting from peal to peal of
  • laughter, went racing out of the Calabooza; and, in mercy to me,
  • never returned.
  • CHAPTER XXXIV.
  • LIFE AT THE CALABOOZA
  • A FEW days passed; and, at last, our docility was rewarded by some
  • indulgence on the part of Captain Bob.
  • He allowed the entire party to be at large during the day; only
  • enjoining upon us always to keep within hail. This, to be sure, was
  • in positive disobedience to Wilson's orders; and so, care had to be
  • taken that he should not hear of it. There was little fear of the
  • natives telling him; but strangers travelling the Broom Road might. By
  • way of precaution, boys were stationed as scouts along the road. At
  • sight of a white man, they sounded the alarm! when we all made for
  • our respective holes (the stocks being purposely left open): the beam
  • then descended, and we were prisoners. As soon as the traveller was
  • out of sight, of course, we were liberated.
  • Notwithstanding the regular supply of food which we obtained from
  • Captain Bob and his friends, it was so small that we often felt most
  • intolerably hungry. We could not blame them for not bringing us more,
  • for we soon became aware that they had to pinch themselves in order
  • to give us what they did; besides, they received nothing for their
  • kindness but the daily bucket of bread.
  • Among a people like the Tahitians, what we call "hard times" can only
  • be experienced in the scarcity of edibles; yet, so destitute are many
  • of the common people that this most distressing consequence of
  • civilization may be said, with them, to be ever present. To be sure,
  • the natives about the Calabooza had abundance of limes and oranges;
  • but what were these good for, except to impart a still keener edge to
  • appetites which there was so little else to gratify? During the height
  • of the bread-fruit season, they fare better; but, at other times, the
  • demands of the shipping exhaust the uncultivated resources of the
  • island; and the lands being mostly owned by the chiefs, the inferior
  • orders have to suffer for their cupidity. Deprived of their nets, many
  • of them would starve.
  • As Captain Bob insensibly remitted his watchfulness, and we began to
  • stroll farther and farther from the Calabooza, we managed, by a
  • systematic foraging upon the country round about, to make up some of
  • our deficiencies. And fortunate it was that the houses of the
  • wealthier natives were just as open to us as those of the most
  • destitute; we were treated as kindly in one as the other.
  • Once in a while, we came in at the death of a chiefs pig; the noise of
  • whose slaughtering was generally to be heard at a great distance. An
  • occasion like this gathers the neighbours together, and they have a
  • bit of a feast, where a stranger is always welcome. A good loud
  • squeal, therefore, was music in our ears. It showed something going
  • on in that direction.
  • Breaking in upon the party tumultuously, as we did, we always created
  • a sensation. Sometimes, we found the animal still alive and
  • struggling; in which case, it was generally dropped at our approach.
  • To provide for these emergencies, Flash Jack generally repaired to the
  • scene of operations with a sheath-knife between his teeth, and a club
  • in his hand. Others were exceedingly officious in singeing off the
  • bristles, and disembowelling. Doctor Long Ghost and myself, however,
  • never meddled with these preliminaries, but came to the feast itself
  • with unimpaired energies.
  • Like all lank men, my long friend had an appetite of his own. Others
  • occasionally went about seeking what they might devour, but he was
  • always on the alert.
  • He had an ingenious way of obviating an inconvenience which we all
  • experienced at times. The islanders seldom use salt with their food;
  • so he begged Rope Yarn to bring him some from the ship; also a little
  • pepper, if he could; which, accordingly, was done. This he placed in
  • a small leather wallet--a "monkey bag" (so called by sailors)--usually
  • worn as a purse about the neck.
  • "In my opinion," said Long Ghost, as he tucked the wallet out of
  • sight, "it behooves a stranger, in Tahiti, to have his knife in
  • readiness, and his castor slung."
  • CHAPTER XXXV.
  • VISIT FROM AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE
  • WE had not been many days ashore, when Doctor Johnson was espied
  • coming along the Broom Road.
  • We had heard that he meditated a visit, and suspected what he was
  • after. Being upon the consul's hands, all our expenses were of course
  • payable by him in his official capacity; and, therefore, as a friend
  • of Wilson, and sure of good pay, the shore doctor had some idea of
  • allowing us to run up a bill with him. True, it was rather awkward to
  • ask us to take medicines which, on board the ship, he told us were
  • not needed. However, he resolved to put a bold face on the matter, and
  • give us a call.
  • His approach was announced by one of the scouts, upon which someone
  • suggested that we should let him enter, and then put him in the
  • stocks. But Long Ghost proposed better sport. What it was, we shall
  • presently see.
  • Very bland and amiable, Doctor Johnson advanced, and, resting his cane
  • on the stocks, glanced to right and left, as we lay before him.
  • "Well, my lads"--he began--"how do you find yourselves to-day?"
  • Looking very demure, the men made some rejoinder; and he went on.
  • "Those poor fellows I saw the other day--the sick, I mean--how are
  • they?" and he scrutinized the company. At last, he singled out one
  • who was assuming a most unearthly appearance, and remarked that he
  • looked as if he were extremely ill. "Yes," said the sailor dolefully,
  • "I'm afeard, doctor, I'll soon be losing the number of my mess!" (a
  • sea phrase, for departing this life) and he closed his eyes, and
  • moaned.
  • "What does he say?" said Johnson, turning round eagerly.
  • "Why," exclaimed Flash Jack, who volunteered as interpreter, "he
  • means he's going to croak" (die).
  • "Croak! and what does that mean, applied to a patient?"
  • "Oh! I understand," said he, when the word was explained; and he
  • stepped over the stocks, and felt the man's pulse.
  • "What's his name?" he asked, turning this time to old Navy Bob.
  • "We calls him Jingling Joe," replied that worthy.
  • "Well then, men, you must take good care of poor Joseph; and I will
  • send him a powder, which must be taken according to the directions.
  • Some of you know how to read, I presume?"
  • "That ere young cove does," replied Bob, pointing toward the place
  • where I lay, as if he were directing attention to a sail at sea.
  • After examining the rest--some of whom were really invalids, but
  • convalescent, and others only pretending to be labouring under divers
  • maladies, Johnson turned round, and addressed the party.
  • "Men," said he, "if any more of you are ailing, speak up, and let me
  • know. By order of the consul, I'm to call every day; so if any of you
  • are at all sick, it's my duty to prescribe for you. This sudden
  • change from ship fare to shore living plays the deuce with you
  • sailors, so be cautious about eating fruit. Good-day! I'll send you
  • the medicines the first thing in the morning."
  • Now, I am inclined to suspect that with all his want of understanding,
  • Johnson must have had some idea that we were quizzing him. Still,
  • that was nothing, so long as it answered his purpose; and therefore,
  • if he did see through us, he never showed it.
  • Sure enough, at the time appointed, along came a native lad with a
  • small basket of cocoa-nut stalks, filled with powders, pill-boxes,
  • and-vials, each with names and directions written in a large, round
  • hand. The sailors, one and all, made a snatch at the collection,
  • under the strange impression that some of the vials were seasoned
  • with spirits. But, asserting his privilege as physician to the first
  • reading of the labels, Doctor Long Ghost was at last permitted to
  • take possession of the basket.
  • The first thing lighted upon was a large vial, labelled--"For
  • William--rub well in."
  • This vial certainly had a spirituous smell; and upon handing it to the
  • patient, he made a summary internal application of its contents. The
  • doctor looked aghast.
  • There was now a mighty commotion. Powders and pills were voted mere
  • drugs in the market, and the holders of vials were pronounced lucky
  • dogs. Johnson must have known enough of sailors to make some of his
  • medicines palatable--this, at least, Long Ghost suspected. Certain it
  • was, everyone took to the vials; if at all spicy, directions were
  • unheeded, their contents all going one road.
  • The largest one of all, quite a bottle indeed, and having a sort of
  • burnt brandy odour, was labelled--"For Daniel, drink freely, and
  • until relieved." This Black Dan proceeded to do; and would have made
  • an end of it at once, had not the bottle, after a hard struggle, been
  • snatched from his hands, and passed round, like a jovial decanter.
  • The old tar had complained of the effects of an immoderate eating of
  • fruit.
  • Upon calling the following morning, our physician found his precious
  • row of patients reclining behind the stocks, and doing "as well as
  • could be expected."
  • But the pills and powders were found to have been perfectly inactive:
  • probably because none had been taken. To make them efficacious, it
  • was suggested that, for the future, a bottle of Pisco should be sent
  • along with them. According to Flash Jack's notions, unmitigated
  • medical compounds were but dry stuff at the best, and needed
  • something good to wash them down.
  • Thus far, our own M.D., Doctor Long Ghost, after starting the frolic,
  • had taken no further part in it; but on the physician's third visit,
  • he took him to one side, and had a private confabulation. What it
  • was, exactly, we could not tell; but from certain illustrative signs
  • and gestures, I fancied that he was describing the symptoms of some
  • mysterious disorganization of the vitals, which must have come on
  • within the hour. Assisted by his familiarity with medical terms, he
  • seemed to produce a marked impression. At last, Johnson went his way,
  • promising aloud that he would send Long Ghost what he desired.
  • When the medicine boy came along the following morning, the doctor was
  • the first to accost him, walking off with a small purple vial. This
  • time, there was little else in the basket but a case-bottle of the
  • burnt brandy cordial, which, after much debate, was finally disposed
  • of by someone pouring the contents, little by little, into the half of
  • a cocoa-nut shell, and so giving all who desired a glass. No further
  • medicinal cheer remaining, the men dispersed.
  • An hour or two passed, when Flash Jack directed attention to my long
  • friend, who, since the medicine boy left, had not been noticed till
  • now. With eyes closed, he was lying behind the stocks, and Jack was
  • lifting his arm and letting it fall as if life were extinct. On
  • running up with the rest, I at once connected the phenomenon with the
  • mysterious vial. Searching his pocket, I found it, and holding it up,
  • it proved to be laudanum. Flash Jack, snatching it from my hand in a
  • rapture, quickly informed all present what it was; and with much
  • glee, proposed a nap for the company. Some of them not comprehending
  • him exactly, the apparently defunct Long Ghost--who lay so still that
  • I a little suspected the genuineness of his sleep--was rolled about as
  • an illustration of the virtues of the vial's contents. The idea
  • tickled everybody mightily; and throwing themselves down, the magic
  • draught was passed from hand to hand. Thinking that, as a matter of
  • course, they must at once become insensible, each man, upon taking
  • his sip, fell back, and closed his eyes.
  • There was little fear of the result, since the narcotic was equally
  • distributed. But, curious to see how it would operate, I raised
  • myself gently after a while, and looked around. It was about noon,
  • and perfectly still; and as we all daily took the siesta, I was not
  • much surprised to find everyone quiet. Still, in one or two instances,
  • I thought I detected a little peeping.
  • Presently, I heard a footstep, and saw Doctor Johnson approaching.
  • And perplexed enough did he look at the sight of his prostrate file of
  • patients, plunged, apparently, in such unaccountable slumbers.
  • "Daniel," he cried, at last, punching in the side with his cane the
  • individual thus designated--"Daniel, my good fellow, get up! do you
  • hear?"
  • But Black Dan was immovable; and he poked the next sleeper.
  • "Joseph, Joseph! come, wake up! it's me, Doctor Johnson."
  • But Jingling Joe, with mouth open, and eyes shut, was not to be
  • started.
  • "Bless my soul!" he exclaimed, with uplifted hands and cane, "what's
  • got into 'em? I say, men"--he shouted, running up and down--"come to
  • life, men! what under the sun's the matter with you?" and he struck
  • the stocks, and bawled with increased vigour.
  • At last he paused, folded his hands over the head of his cane, and
  • steadfastly gazed upon us. The notes of the nasal orchestra were
  • rising and falling upon his ear, and a new idea suggested itself.
  • "Yes, yes; the rascals must have been getting boozy. Well, it's none
  • of my business--I'll be off;" and off he went.
  • No sooner was he out of sight, than nearly all started to their feet,
  • and a hearty laugh ensued.
  • Like myself, most of them had been watching the event from under a sly
  • eyelid. By this time, too, Doctor Long Ghost was as wide awake as
  • anybody. What were his reasons for taking laudanum,--if, indeed, he
  • took any whatever,--is best known to himself; and, as it is neither
  • mine nor the reader's business, we will say no more about it.
  • CHAPTER XXXVI.
  • WE ARE CARRIED BEFORE THE CONSUL AND CAPTAIN
  • WE HAD been inmates of the Calabooza Beretanee about two weeks, when,
  • one morning, Captain Bob, coming from the bath, in a state of utter
  • nudity, brought into the building an armful of old tappa, and began
  • to dress to go out.
  • The operation was quite simple. The tappa--of the coarsest kind--was
  • in one long, heavy piece; and, fastening one end to a column of
  • Habiscus wood supporting the Calabooza, he went off a few paces, and
  • putting the other about his waist, wound himself right up to the
  • post. This unique costume, in rotundity something like a farthingale,
  • added immensely to his large hulk; so much so that he fairly waddled
  • in his gait. But he was only adhering to the fashion of his fathers;
  • for, in the olden time, the "Kihee," or big girdle, was quite the
  • mode for both sexes. Bob, despising recent innovations, still clung
  • to it. He was a gentleman of the old school--one of the last of the
  • Kihees.
  • He now told us that he had orders to take us before the consul.
  • Nothing loth, we formed in procession; and, with the old man at our
  • head, sighing and labouring like an engine, and flanked by a guard of
  • some twenty natives, we started for the village.
  • Arrived at the consular office, we found Wilson there, and four or
  • five Europeans, seated in a row facing us; probably with the view of
  • presenting as judicial an appearance as possible.
  • On one side was a couch, where Captain Guy reclined. He looked
  • convalescent; and, as we found out, intended soon to go aboard his
  • ship. He said nothing, but left everything to the consul.
  • The latter now rose, and, drawing forth a paper from a large roll tied
  • with red tape, commenced reading aloud.
  • It purported to be, "the affidavit of John Jennin, first officer of
  • the British Colonial Barque Julia; Guy, Master;" and proved to be a
  • long statement of matters, from the time of leaving Sydney, down to
  • our arrival in the harbour. Though artfully drawn up so as to bear
  • hard against every one of us, it was pretty correct in the details;
  • excepting that it was wholly silent as to the manifold
  • derelictions of the mate himself--a fact which imparted unusual
  • significance to the concluding sentence, "And furthermore, this
  • deponent sayeth not."
  • No comments were made, although we all looked round for the mate to
  • see whether it was possible that he could have authorized this use of
  • his name. But he was not present.
  • The next document produced was the deposition of the captain himself.
  • As on all other occasions, however, he had very little to say for
  • himself, and it was soon set aside.
  • The third affidavit was that of the seamen remaining aboard the
  • vessel, including the traitor Bungs, who, it seemed, had turned
  • ship's evidence. It was an atrocious piece of exaggeration, from
  • beginning to end; and those who signed it could not have known what
  • they were about. Certainly Wymontoo did not, though his mark was
  • there. In vain the consul commanded silence during the reading of this
  • paper; comments were shouted out upon every paragraph.
  • The affidavits read, Wilson, who, all the while, looked as stiff as a
  • poker, solemnly drew forth the ship's articles from their tin case.
  • This document was a discoloured, musty, bilious-looking affair, and
  • hard to read. When finished, the consul held it up; and, pointing to
  • the marks of the ship's company, at the bottom, asked us, one by one,
  • whether we acknowledged the same for our own.
  • "What's the use of asking that?" said Black Dan; "Captain Guy there
  • knows as well as we they are."
  • "Silence, sir!" said Wilson, who, intending to produce a suitable
  • impression by this ridiculous parade, was not a little mortified by
  • the old sailor's bluntness.
  • A pause of a few moments now ensued; during which the bench of judges
  • communed with Captain Guy, in a low tone, and the sailors canvassed
  • the motives of the consul in having the affidavits taken.
  • The general idea seemed to be that it was done with a view of
  • "bouncing," or frightening us into submission. Such proved to be the
  • case; for Wilson, rising to his feet again, addressed us as
  • follows:--
  • "You see, men, that every preparation has been made to send you to
  • Sydney for trial. The Rosa (a small Australian schooner, lying in
  • the harbour) will sail for that place in the course of ten days, at
  • farthest. The Julia sails on a cruise this day week. Do you still
  • refuse duty?"
  • We did.
  • Hereupon the consul and captain exchanged glances; and the latter
  • looked bitterly disappointed.
  • Presently I noticed Guy's eye upon me; and, for the first time, he
  • spoke, and told me to come near. I stepped forward.
  • "Was it not you that was taken off the island?"
  • "It was."
  • "It was you then who owe your life to my humanity. Yet this is the
  • gratitude of a sailor, Mr. Wilson!"
  • "Not so, sir." And I at once gave him to understand that I was
  • perfectly acquainted with his motives in sending a boat into the bay;
  • his crew was reduced, and he merely wished to procure the sailor whom
  • he expected to find there. The ship was the means of my deliverance,
  • and no thanks to the benevolence of its captain.
  • Doctor Long Ghost also had a word to say. In two masterly sentences he
  • summed up Captain Guy's character, to the complete satisfaction of
  • every seaman present.
  • Matters were now growing serious; especially as the sailors became
  • riotous, and talked about taking the consul and the captain back to
  • the Calabooza with them.
  • The other judges fidgeted, and loudly commanded silence. It was at
  • length restored; when Wilson, for the last time addressing us, said
  • something more about the Rose and Sydney, and concluded by reminding
  • us that a week would elapse ere the Julia sailed.
  • Leaving these hints to operate for themselves, he dismissed the party,
  • ordering Captain Bob and his friends to escort us back whence we
  • came.
  • CHAPTER XXXVII.
  • THE FRENCH PRIESTS PAY THEIR RESPECTS
  • A DAY or two after the events just related, we were lounging in the
  • Calabooza Beretanee, when we were honoured by a visit from three of
  • the French Priests; and as about the only notice ever taken of us by
  • the English missionaries was their leaving their cards for us, in the
  • shape of a package of tracts, we could not help thinking that the
  • Frenchmen, in making a personal call, were at least much better bred.
  • By this time they had settled themselves down quite near our
  • habitation. A pleasant little stroll down the Broom Road, and a
  • rustic cross peeped through the trees; and soon you came to as
  • charming a place as one would wish to see: a soft knoll, planted with
  • old breadfruit trees; in front, a savannah, sloping to a grove of
  • palms, and, between these, glimpses of blue, sunny waves.
  • On the summit of the knoll was a rude chapel, of bamboos; quite small,
  • and surmounted by the cross. Between the canes, at nightfall, the
  • natives stole peeps at a small portable altar; a crucifix to
  • correspond, and gilded candlesticks and censers. Their curiosity
  • carried them no further; nothing could induce them to worship there.
  • Such queer ideas as they entertained of the hated strangers. Masses
  • and chants were nothing more than evil spells. As for the priests
  • themselves, they were no better than diabolical sorcerers; like those
  • who, in old times, terrified their fathers.
  • Close by the chapel was a range of native houses; rented from a chief,
  • and handsomely furnished. Here lived the priests; and very
  • comfortably, too. They looked sanctimonious enough abroad; but that
  • went for nothing; since, at home, in their retreat, they were a club
  • of Friar Tucks; holding priestly wassail over many a good cup of red
  • brandy, and rising late in the morning.
  • Pity it was they couldn't marry--pity for the ladies of the island, I
  • mean, and the cause of morality; for what business had the
  • ecclesiastical old bachelors with such a set of trim little native
  • handmaidens? These damsels were their first converts; and devoted
  • ones they were.
  • The priests, as I have said before, were accounted necromancers: the
  • appearance of two of our three visitors might have justified the
  • conceit.
  • They were little, dried-up Frenchmen, in long, straight gowns of black
  • cloth, and unsightly three-cornered hats--so preposterously big that,
  • in putting them on, the reverend fathers seemed to extinguish
  • themselves.
  • Their companion was dressed differently. He wore a sort of yellow,
  • flannel morning gown, and a broad-brimmed Manilla hat. Large and
  • portly, he was also hale and fifty; with a complexion like an
  • autumnal leaf--handsome blue eyes--fine teeth, and a racy Milesian
  • brogue. In short, he was an Irishman; Father Murphy, by name; and, as
  • such, pretty well known, and very thoroughly disliked, throughout all
  • the Protestant missionary settlements in Polynesia. In early youth,
  • he had been sent to a religious seminary in France; and, taking
  • orders there, had but once or twice afterwards revisited his native
  • land.
  • Father Murphy marched up to us briskly; and the first words he uttered
  • were, to ask whether there were any of his countrymen among us.
  • There were two of them; one, a lad of sixteen--a bright, curly-headed
  • rascal--and, being a young Irishman, of course, his name was Pat. The
  • other was an ugly, and rather melancholy-looking scamp; one M'Gee,
  • whose prospects in life had been blasted by a premature
  • transportation to Sydney. This was the report, at least, though it
  • might have been scandal.
  • In most of my shipmates were some redeeming qualities; but about
  • M'Gee, there was nothing of the kind; and forced to consort with him,
  • I could not help regretting, a thousand times, that the gallows had
  • been so tardy. As if impelled, against her will, to send him into the
  • world, Nature had done all she could to insure his being taken for
  • what he was. About the eyes there was no mistaking him; with a
  • villainous cast in one, they seemed suspicious of each other.
  • Glancing away from him at once, the bluff priest rested his gaze on
  • the good-humoured face of Pat, who, with a pleasant roguishness, was
  • "twigging" the enormous hats (or "Hytee Belteezers," as land beavers
  • are called by sailors), from under which, like a couple of snails,
  • peeped the two little Frenchmen.
  • Pat and the priest were both from the same town in Meath; and, when
  • this was found out, there was no end to the questions of the latter.
  • To him, Pat seemed a letter from home, and said a hundred times as
  • much.
  • After a long talk between these two, and a little broken English from
  • the Frenchmen, our visitors took leave; but Father Murphy had hardly
  • gone a dozen rods when back he came, inquiring whether we were in
  • want of anything.
  • "Yes," cried one, "something to eat." Upon this he promised to send us
  • some fresh wheat bread, of his own baking; a great luxury in Tahiti.
  • We all felicitated Pat upon picking up such a friend, and told him his
  • fortune was made.
  • The next morning, a French servant of the priest's made his appearance
  • with a small bundle of clothing for our young Hibernian; and the
  • promised bread for the party. Pat being out at the knees and elbows,
  • and, like the rest of us, not full inside, the present was acceptable
  • all round.
  • In the afternoon, Father Murphy himself came along; and, in addition
  • to his previous gifts, gave Pat a good deal of advice: said he was
  • sorry to see him in limbo, and that he would have a talk with the
  • consul about having him set free.
  • We saw nothing more of him for two or three days; at the end of which
  • time he paid us another call, telling Pat that Wilson was inexorable,
  • having refused to set him at liberty, unless to go aboard the ship.
  • This, the priest now besought him to do forthwith; and so escape the
  • punishment which, it seems, Wilson had been hinting at to his
  • intercessor. Pat, however, was staunch against entreaties; and, with
  • all the ardour of a sophomorean sailor, protested his intention to
  • hold out to the last. With none of the meekness of a good little boy
  • about him, the blunt youngster stormed away at such a rate that it
  • was hard to pacify him; and the priest said no more.
  • How it came to pass--whether from Murphy's speaking to the consul, or
  • otherwise, we could not tell--but the next day, Pat was sent for by
  • Wilson, and being escorted to the village by our good old keeper,
  • three days elapsed before he returned.
  • Bent upon reclaiming him, they had taken him on board the ship;
  • feasted him in the cabin; and, finding that of no avail, down they
  • thrust him into the hold, in double irons, and on bread and water.
  • All would not do; and so he was sent back to the Calabooza. Boy that
  • he was, they must have counted upon his being more susceptible to
  • discipline than the rest.
  • The interest felt in Pat's welfare, by his benevolent countryman, was
  • very serviceable to the rest of us; especially as we all turned
  • Catholics, and went to mass every morning, much to Captain Bob's
  • consternation. Upon finding it out, he threatened to keep us in the
  • stocks if we did not desist. He went no farther than this, though;
  • and so, every few days, we strolled down to the priest's residence,
  • and had a mouthful to eat, and something generous to drink. In
  • particular, Dr. Long Ghost and myself became huge favourites with
  • Pat's friend; and many a time he regaled us from a quaint-looking
  • travelling case for spirits, stowed away in one corner of his
  • dwelling. It held four square flasks, which, somehow or other, always
  • contained just enough to need emptying. In truth, the fine old
  • Irishman was a rosy fellow in canonicals. His countenance and his
  • soul were always in a glow. It may be ungenerous to reveal his
  • failings, but he often talked thick, and sometimes was perceptibly
  • eccentric in his gait.
  • I never drink French brandy but I pledge Father Murphy. His health
  • again! And many jolly proselytes may he make in Polynesia!
  • CHAPTER XXXVIII.
  • LITTLE JULIA SAILS WITHOUT US
  • TO MAKE good the hint thrown out by the consul upon the conclusion of
  • the Farce of the Affidavits, we were again brought before him within
  • the time specified.
  • It was the same thing over again: he got nothing out of us, and we
  • were remanded; our resolute behaviour annoying him prodigiously.
  • What we observed led us to form the idea that, on first learning the
  • state of affairs on board the Julia, Wilson must have addressed his
  • invalid friend, the captain, something in the following style:
  • "Guy, my poor fellow, don't worry yourself now about those rascally
  • sailors of yours. I'll dress them out for you--just leave it all to
  • me, and set your mind at rest."
  • But handcuffs and stocks, big looks, threats, dark hints, and
  • depositions, had all gone for nought.
  • Conscious that, as matters now stood, nothing serious could grow out
  • of what had happened; and never dreaming that our being sent home for
  • trial had ever been really thought of, we thoroughly understood
  • Wilson, and laughed at him accordingly.
  • Since leaving the Julia, we had caught no glimpse of the mate; but we
  • often heard of him.
  • It seemed that he remained on board, keeping house in the cabin for
  • himself and Viner; who, going to see him according to promise, was
  • induced to remain a guest. These two cronies now had fine times;
  • tapping the captain's quarter-casks, playing cards on the transom,
  • and giving balls of an evening to the ladies ashore. In short, they
  • cut up so many queer capers that the missionaries complained of them
  • to the consul; and Jermin received a sharp reprimand.
  • This so affected him that he still drank more freely than before; and
  • one afternoon, when mellow as a grape, he took umbrage at a canoe
  • full of natives, who, on being hailed from the deck to come aboard
  • and show their papers, got frightened, and paddled for the shore.
  • Lowering a boat instantly, he equipped Wymontoo and the Dane with a
  • cutlass apiece, and seizing another himself, off they started in
  • pursuit, the ship's ensign flying in the boat's stern. The alarmed
  • islanders, beaching their canoe, with loud cries fled through the
  • village, the mate after them, slashing his naked weapon to right and
  • left. A crowd soon collected; and the "Karhowree toonee," or crazy
  • stranger, was quickly taken before Wilson.
  • Now, it so chanced that, in a native house hard by, the consul and
  • Captain Guy were having a quiet game at cribbage by themselves, a
  • decanter on the table standing sentry. The obstreperous Jermin was
  • brought in; and finding the two thus pleasantly occupied, it had a
  • soothing effect upon him; and he insisted upon taking a hand at the
  • cards, and a drink of the brandy. As the consul was nearly as tipsy as
  • himself, and the captain dared not object for fear of giving offence,
  • at it they went--all three of them--and made a night of it; the
  • mate's delinquencies being summarily passed over, and his captors
  • sent away.
  • An incident worth relating grew out of this freak.
  • There wandered about Papeetee, at this time, a shrivelled little
  • fright of an Englishwoman, known among sailors as "Old Mother Tot."
  • From New Zealand to the Sandwich Islands, she had been all over the
  • South Seas; keeping a rude hut of entertainment for mariners, and
  • supplying them with rum and dice. Upon the missionary islands, of
  • course, such conduct was severely punishable; and at various places,
  • Mother Tot's establishment had been shut up, and its proprietor made
  • to quit in the first vessel that could be hired to land her
  • elsewhere. But, with a perseverance invincible, wherever she went she
  • always started afresh; and so became notorious everywhere.
  • By some wicked spell of hers, a patient, one-eyed little cobbler
  • followed her about, mending shoes for white men, doing the old
  • woman's cooking, and bearing all her abuse without grumbling. Strange
  • to relate, a battered Bible was seldom out of his sight; and whenever
  • he had leisure, and his mistress' back was turned, he was forever
  • poring over it. This pious propensity used to enrage the old crone
  • past belief; and oftentimes she boxed his ears with the book, and
  • tried to burn it. Mother Tot and her man Josy were, indeed, a curious
  • pair.
  • But to my story.
  • A week or so after our arrival in the harbour, the old lady had once
  • again been hunted down, and forced for the time to abandon her
  • nefarious calling. This was brought about chiefly by Wilson, who, for
  • some reason unknown, had contracted the most violent hatred for her;
  • which, on her part, was more than reciprocated.
  • Well: passing, in the evening, where the consul and his party were
  • making merry, she peeped through the bamboos of the house; and
  • straightway resolved to gratify her spite.
  • The night was very dark; and providing herself with a huge ship's
  • lantern, which usually swung in her hut, she waited till they came
  • forth. This happened about midnight; Wilson making his appearance,
  • supported by two natives, holding him up by the arms. These three
  • went first; and just as they got under a deep shade, a bright light
  • was thrust within an inch of Wilson's nose. The old hag was kneeling
  • before him, holding the lantern with uplifted hands.
  • "Ha, ha! my fine counsellor," she shrieked; "ye persecute a lone old
  • body like me for selling rum--do ye? And here ye are, carried home
  • drunk--Hoot! ye villain, I scorn ye!" And she spat upon him.
  • Terrified at the apparition, the poor natives--arrant believers in
  • ghosts--dropped the trembling consul, and fled in all directions.
  • After giving full vent to her rage, Mother Tot hobbled away, and left
  • the three revellers to stagger home the best way they could.
  • The day following our last interview with Wilson, we learned that
  • Captain Guy had gone on board his vessel for the purpose of shipping
  • a new crew. There was a round bounty offered; and a heavy bag of
  • Spanish dollars, with the Julia's articles ready for signing, were
  • laid on the capstan-head.
  • Now, there was no lack of idle sailors ashore, mostly "Beachcombers,"
  • who had formed themselves into an organized gang, headed by one Mack,
  • a Scotchman, whom they styled the Commodore. By the laws of the
  • fraternity, no member was allowed to ship on board a vessel unless
  • granted permission by the rest. In this way the gang controlled the
  • port, all discharged seamen being forced to join them.
  • To Mack and his men our story was well known; indeed, they had several
  • times called to see us; and of course, as sailors and congenial
  • spirits, they were hard against Captain Guy.
  • Deeming the matter important, they came in a body to the Calabooza,
  • and wished to know whether, all things considered, we thought it best
  • for any of them to join the Julia.
  • Anxious to pack the ship off as soon as possible, we answered, by all
  • means. Some went so far as to laud the Julia to the skies as the best
  • and fastest of ships. Jermin too, as a good fellow, and a sailor
  • every inch, came in for his share of praise; and as for the
  • captain--quiet man, he would never trouble anyone. In short, every
  • inducement we could think of was presented; and Flash Jack ended by
  • assuring the beachcombers solemnly that, now we were all well and
  • hearty, nothing but a regard to principle prevented us from returning
  • on board ourselves.
  • The result was that a new crew was finally obtained, together with a
  • steady New Englander for second mate, and three good whalemen for
  • harpooners. In part, what was wanting for the ship's larder was also
  • supplied; and as far as could be done in a place like Tahiti, the
  • damages the vessel had sustained were repaired. As for the Mowree,
  • the authorities refusing to let him be put ashore, he was carried to
  • sea in irons, down in the hold. What eventually became of him we
  • never heard.
  • Ropey, poor poor Ropey, who a few days previous had fallen sick, was
  • left ashore at the sailor hospital at Townor, a small place upon the
  • beach between Papeetee and Matavai. Here, some time after, he
  • breathed his last. No one knew his complaint: he must have died of
  • hard times. Several of us saw him interred in the sand, and I planted
  • a rude post to mark his resting-place.
  • The cooper, and the rest who had remained aboard from the first, of
  • course, composed part of the Julia's new crew.
  • To account for the conduct, all along, of the consul and captain, in
  • trying so hard to alter our purpose with respect to the ship, the
  • following statement is all that is requisite. Beside an advance of
  • from fifteen to twenty-five dollars demanded by every sailor shipping
  • at Tahiti, an additional sum for each man so shipped has to be paid
  • into the hands of the government, as a charge of the port. Beside
  • this, the men--with here and there an exception--will only ship for
  • one cruise, thus becoming entitled to a discharge before the vessel
  • reaches home; which, in time, creates the necessity of obtaining
  • other men, at a similar cost. Now, the Julia's exchequer was at
  • low-water mark, or rather, it was quite empty; and to meet these
  • expenses, a good part of what little oil there was aboard had to be
  • sold for a song to a merchant of Papeetee.
  • It was Sunday in Tahiti and a glorious morning, when Captain Bob,
  • waddling into the Calabooza, startled us by announcing "Ah--my
  • boy--shippy you, harre--maky sail!" In other words, the Julia was
  • off.
  • The beach was quite near, and in this quarter altogether uninhabited;
  • so down we ran, and, at cable's length, saw little Jule gliding
  • past--top-gallant-sails hoisting, and a boy aloft with one leg thrown
  • over the yard, loosing the fore-royal. The decks were all life and
  • commotion; the sailors on the forecastle singing "Ho, cheerly men!"
  • as they catted the anchor; and the gallant Jennin, bare-headed as his
  • wont, standing up on the bowsprit, and issuing his orders. By the man
  • at the helm stood Captain Guy, very quiet and gentlemanly, and
  • smoking a cigar.
  • Soon the ship drew near the reef, and, altering her course, glided out
  • through the break, and went on her way.
  • Thus disappeared little Jule, about three weeks after entering the
  • harbour: and nothing more have I ever heard of her.
  • CHAPTER XXXIX.
  • JERMIN SERVES US A GOOD TURN--FRIENDSHIPS IN POLYNESIA
  • THE ship out of the way, we were quite anxious to know what was going
  • to be done with us. On this head, Captain Bob could tell us nothing;
  • no further, at least, than that he still considered himself
  • responsible for our safe-keeping. However, he never put us to bed any
  • more; and we had everything our own way.
  • The day after the Julia left, the old man came up to us in great
  • tribulation, saying that the bucket of bread was no longer
  • forthcoming, and that Wilson had refused to send anything in its
  • place. One and all, we took this for a hint to disperse quietly, and
  • go about our business. Nevertheless, we were not to be shaken off so
  • easily; and taking a malicious pleasure in annoying our old enemy, we
  • resolved, for the present, to stay where we were. For the part he had
  • been acting, we learned that the consul was the laughing-stock of all
  • the foreigners ashore, who frequently twitted him upon his hopeful
  • proteges of the Calabooza Beretanee.
  • As we were wholly without resources, so long as we remained on the
  • island no better place than Captain Bob's could be selected for an
  • abiding-place. Beside, we heartily loved the old gentleman, and could
  • not think of leaving him; so, telling him to give no thought as to
  • wherewithal we should be clothed and fed, we resolved, by extending
  • and systematizing our foraging operations, to provide for ourselves.
  • We were greatly assisted by a parting legacy of Jermin's. To him we
  • were indebted for having all our chests sent ashore, and everything
  • left therein. They were placed in the custody of a petty chief living
  • near by, who was instructed by the consul not to allow them to be
  • taken away; but we might call and make our toilets whenever we
  • pleased.
  • We went to see Mahinee, the old chief; Captain Bob going along, and
  • stoutly insisting upon having the chattels delivered up. At last this
  • was done; and in solemn procession the chests were borne by the
  • natives to the Calabooza. Here, we disposed them about quite
  • tastefully; and made such a figure that, in the eyes of old Bob and
  • his friends, the Calabooza Beretanee was by far the most sumptuously
  • furnished saloon in Tahiti.
  • Indeed, so long as it remained thus furnished, the native courts of
  • the district were held there; the judge, Mahinee, and his associates,
  • sitting upon one of the chests, and the culprits and spectators
  • thrown at full length upon the ground, both inside of the building
  • and under the shade of the trees without; while, leaning over the
  • stocks as from a gallery, the worshipful crew of the Julia looked on,
  • and canvassed the proceedings.
  • I should have mentioned before that, previous to the vessel's
  • departure, the men had bartered away all the clothing they could
  • possibly spare; but now, it was resolved to be more provident.
  • The contents of the chests were of the most miscellaneous
  • description:--sewing utensils, marling-spikes, strips of calico, bits
  • of rope, jack-knives; nearly everything, in short, that a seaman
  • could think of. But of wearing apparel, there was little but old
  • frocks, remnants of jackets, and legs of trousers, with now and then
  • the foot of a stocking.
  • These, however, were far from being valueless; for, among the poorer
  • Tahitians, everything European is highly esteemed. They come from
  • "Beretanee, Fenooa Pararee" (Britain, Land of Wonders), and that is
  • enough.
  • The chests themselves were deemed exceedingly precious, especially
  • those with unfractured looks, which would absolutely click, and
  • enable the owner to walk off with the key. Scars, however, and
  • bruises, were considered great blemishes. One old fellow, smitten
  • with the doctor's large mahogany chest (a well-filled one, by the
  • bye), and finding infinite satisfaction in merely sitting thereon,
  • was detected in the act of applying a healing ointment to a shocking
  • scratch which impaired the beauty of the lid.
  • There is no telling the love of a Tahitian for a sailor's trunk. So
  • ornamental is it held as an article of furniture in the hut, that the
  • women are incessantly tormenting their husbands to bestir themselves
  • and make them a present of one. When obtained, no pier-table just
  • placed in a drawing-room is regarded with half the delight. For these
  • reasons, then, our coming into possession of our estate at this time
  • was an important event.
  • The islanders are much like the rest of the world; and the news of our
  • good fortune brought us troops of "tayos," or friends, eager to form
  • an alliance after the national custom, and do our slightest bidding.
  • The really curious way in which all the Polynesians are in the habit
  • of making bosom friends at the shortest possible notice is deserving
  • of remark. Although, among a people like the Tahitians, vitiated as
  • they are by sophisticating influences, this custom has in most cases
  • degenerated into a mere mercenary relation, it nevertheless had its
  • origin in a fine, and in some instances, heroic sentiment, formerly
  • entertained by their fathers.
  • In the annals of the island are examples of extravagant friendships,
  • unsurpassed by the story of Damon and Pythias: in truth, much more
  • wonderful; for, notwithstanding the devotion--even of life in some
  • cases--to which they led, they were frequently entertained at first
  • sight for some stranger from another island.
  • Filled with love and admiration for the first whites who came among
  • them, the Polynesians could not testify the warmth of their emotions
  • more strongly than by instantaneously making their abrupt proffer of
  • friendship. Hence, in old voyages we read of chiefs coming off from
  • the shore in their canoes, and going through with strange antics,
  • expressive of the desire. In the same way, their inferiors accosted
  • the seamen; and thus the practice has continued in some islands down
  • to the present day.
  • There is a small place, not many days' sail from Tahiti, and seldom
  • visited by shipping, where the vessel touched to which I then
  • happened to belong.
  • Of course, among the simple-hearted natives, We had a friend all
  • round. Mine was Poky, a handsome youth, who never could do enough for
  • me. Every morning at sunrise, his canoe came alongside loaded with
  • fruits of all kinds; upon being emptied, it was secured by a line to
  • the bowsprit, under which it lay all day long, ready at any time to
  • carry its owner ashore on an errand.
  • Seeing him so indefatigable, I told Poky one day that I was a virtuoso
  • in shells and curiosities of all kinds. That was enough; away he
  • paddled for the head of the bay, and I never saw him again for
  • twenty-four hours. The next morning, his canoe came gliding slowly
  • along the shore with the full-leaved bough of a tree for a sail. For
  • the purpose of keeping the things dry, he had also built a sort of
  • platform just behind the prow, railed in with green wicker-work; and
  • here was a heap of yellow bananas and cowree shells; young cocoa-nuts
  • and antlers of red coral; two or three pieces of carved wood; a
  • little pocket-idol, black as jet, and rolls of printed tappa.
  • We were given a holiday; and upon going ashore, Poky, of course, was
  • my companion and guide. For this, no mortal could be better
  • qualified; his native country was not large, and he knew every inch
  • of it. Gallanting me about, everyone was stopped and ceremoniously
  • introduced to Poky's "tayo karhowree nuee" or his particular white
  • friend.
  • He showed me all the lions; but more than all, he took me to see a
  • charming lioness--a young damsel--the daughter of a chief--the
  • reputation of whose charms had spread to the neighbouring islands,
  • and even brought suitors therefrom. Among these was Tooboi, the heir
  • of Tamatory, King of Eaiatair, one of the Society Isles. The girl was
  • certainly fair to look upon. Many heavens were in her sunny eyes; and
  • the outline of that arm of hers, peeping forth from a capricious
  • tappa robe, was the very curve of beauty.
  • Though there was no end to Poky's attentions, not a syllable did he
  • ever breathe of reward; but sometimes he looked very knowing. At last
  • the day came for sailing, and with it, also, his canoe, loaded down
  • to the gunwale with a sea stock of fruits. Giving him all I could
  • spare from my chest, I went on deck to take my place at the windlass;
  • for the anchor was weighing. Poky followed, and heaved with me at the
  • same handspike.
  • The anchor was soon up; and away we went out of the bay with more than
  • twenty shallops towing astern. At last they left us; but long as I
  • could see him at all, there was Poky, standing alone and motionless
  • in the bow of his canoe.
  • PART II
  • CHAPTER XL.
  • WE TAKE UNTO OURSELVES FRIENDS
  • THE arrival of the chests made my friend, the doctor, by far the
  • wealthiest man of the party. So much the better for me, seeing that I
  • had little or nothing myself; though, from our intimacy, the natives
  • courted my favour almost as much as his.
  • Among others, Kooloo was a candidate for my friendship; and being a
  • comely youth, quite a buck in his way, I accepted his overtures. By
  • this, I escaped the importunities of the rest; for be it known that,
  • though little inclined to jealousy in love matters, the Tahitian will
  • hear of no rivals in his friendship.
  • Kooloo, running over his qualifications as a friend, first of all
  • informed me that he was a "Mickonaree," thus declaring his communion
  • with the church.
  • The way this "tayo" of mine expressed his regard was by assuring me
  • over and over again that the love he bore me was "nuee, nuee, nuee,"
  • or infinitesimally extensive. All over these seas, the word "nuee"
  • is significant of quantity. Its repetition is like placing ciphers at
  • the right hand of a numeral; the more places you carry it out to, the
  • greater the sum. Judge, then, of Kooloo's esteem. Nor is the allusion
  • to the ciphers at all inappropriate, seeing that, in themselves,
  • Kooloo's profession turned out to be worthless. He was, alas! as
  • sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal; one of those who make no music
  • unless the clapper be silver.
  • In the course of a few days, the sailors, like the doctor and myself,
  • were cajoled out of everything, and our "tayos," all round, began to
  • cool off quite sensibly. So remiss did they become in their
  • attentions that we could no longer rely upon their bringing us the
  • daily supply of food, which all of them had faithfully promised.
  • As for Kooloo, after sponging me well, he one morning played the part
  • of a retrograde lover; informing me that his affections had undergone
  • a change; he had fallen in love at first sight with a smart sailor,
  • who had just stepped ashore quite flush from a lucky whaling-cruise.
  • It was a touching interview, and with it, our connection dissolved.
  • But the sadness which ensued would soon have been dissipated, had not
  • my sensibilities been wounded by his indelicately sporting some of my
  • gifts very soon after this transfer of his affections. Hardly a day
  • passed that I did not meet him on the Broom Road, airing himself in a
  • regatta shirt which I had given him in happier hours.
  • He went by with such an easy saunter too, looking me pleasantly in the
  • eye, and merely exchanging the cold salute of the road:--"Yar onor,
  • boyoee," a mere sidewalk how d'ye do. After several experiences like
  • this, I began to entertain a sort of respect for Kooloo, as quite a
  • man of the world. In good sooth, he turned out to be one; in one
  • week's time giving me the cut direct, and lounging by without even
  • nodding. He must have taken me for part of the landscape.
  • Before the chests were quite empty, we had a grand washing in the
  • stream of our best raiment, for the purpose of looking tidy, and
  • visiting the European chapel in the village. Every Sunday morning it
  • is open for divine service, some member of the mission officiating.
  • This was the first time we ever entered Papeetee unattended by an
  • escort.
  • In the chapel there were about forty people present, including the
  • officers of several ships in harbour. It was an energetic discourse,
  • and the pulpit cushion was well pounded. Occupying a high seat in the
  • synagogue, and stiff as a flagstaff, was our beloved guardian,
  • Wilson. I shall never forget his look of wonder when his interesting
  • wards filed in at the doorway, and took up a seat directly facing
  • him.
  • Service over, we waited outside in hopes of seeing more of him; but
  • sorely annoyed at the sight of us, he reconnoitred from the window,
  • and never came forth until we had started for home.
  • CHAPTER XLI.
  • WE LEVY CONTRIBUTIONS ON THE SHIPPING
  • SCARCELY a week went by after the Julia's sailing, when, with the
  • proverbial restlessness of sailors, some of the men began to grow
  • weary of the Calabooza Beretanee, and resolved to go boldly among the
  • vessels in the bay, and offer to ship.
  • The thing was tried; but though strongly recommended by the commodore
  • of the beachcombers, in the end they were invariably told by the
  • captains to whom they applied that they bore an equivocal character
  • ashore, and would not answer. So often were they repulsed that we
  • pretty nearly gave up all thoughts of leaving the island in this way;
  • and growing domestic again, settled down quietly at Captain Bob's.
  • It was about this time that the whaling-ships, which have their
  • regular seasons for cruising, began to arrive at Papeetee; and of
  • course their crews frequently visited us. This is customary all over
  • the Pacific. No sailor steps ashore, but he straightway goes to the
  • "Calabooza," where he is almost sure to find some poor fellow or other
  • in confinement for desertion, or alleged mutiny, or something of that
  • sort. Sympathy is proffered, and if need be, tobacco. The latter,
  • however, is most in request; as a solace to the captive, it is
  • invaluable.
  • Having fairly carried the day against both consul and captain, we were
  • objects of even more than ordinary interest to these philanthropists;
  • and they always cordially applauded our conduct. Besides, they
  • invariably brought along something in the way of refreshments;
  • occasionally smuggling in a little Pisco. Upon one occasion, when
  • there was quite a number present, a calabash was passed round, and a
  • pecuniary collection taken up for our benefit.
  • One day a newcomer proposed that two or three of us should pay him a
  • sly, nocturnal visit aboard his ship; engaging to send us away well
  • freighted with provisions. This was not a bad idea; nor were we at
  • all backward in acting upon it. Right after night every vessel in
  • the harbour was visited in rotation, the foragers borrowing Captain
  • Bob's canoe for the purpose. As we all took turns at this--two by
  • two--in due course it came to Long Ghost and myself, for the sailors
  • invariably linked us together. In such an enterprise, I somewhat
  • distrusted the doctor, for he was no sailor, and very tall; and a
  • canoe is the most ticklish of navigable things. However, it could
  • not be helped; and so we went.
  • But a word about the canoes before we go any further. Among the
  • Society Islands, the art of building them, like all native
  • accomplishments, has greatly deteriorated; and they are now the most
  • inelegant, as well as the most insecure of any in the South Seas. In
  • Cook's time, according to his account, there was at Tahiti a royal
  • fleet of seventeen hundred and twenty large war canoes, handsomely
  • carved, and otherwise adorned. At present, those used are quite
  • small; nothing more than logs hollowed out, sharpened at one end, and
  • then launched into the water.
  • To obviate a certain rolling propensity, the Tahitians, like all
  • Polynesians, attach to them what sailors call an "outrigger." It
  • consists of a pole floating alongside, parallel to the canoe, and
  • connected with it by a couple of cross sticks, a yard or more in
  • length. Thus equipped, the canoe cannot be overturned, unless you
  • overcome the buoyancy of the pole, or lift it entirely out of the
  • water.
  • Now, Captain Bob's "gig" was exceedingly small; so small, and of such
  • a grotesque shape, that the sailors christened it the Pill Box; and
  • by this appellation it always went. In fact, it was a sort of
  • "sulky," meant for a solitary paddler, but, on an emergency, capable
  • of floating two or three. The outrigger was a mere switch, alternately
  • rising in air, and then depressed in the water.
  • Assuming the command of the expedition, upon the strength of my being
  • a sailor, I packed the Long Doctor with a paddle in the bow, and then
  • shoving off, leaped into the stern; thus leaving him to do all the
  • work, and reserving to myself the dignified sinecure of steering. All
  • would have gone on well, were it not that my paddler made such clumsy
  • work that the water spattered, and showered down upon us without
  • ceasing. Continuing to ply his tool, however, quite energetically, I
  • thought he would improve after a while, and so let him alone. But by
  • and bye, getting wet through with this little storm we were raising,
  • and seeing no signs of its clearing off, I conjured him, in mercy's
  • name, to stop short, and let me wring myself out. Upon this, he
  • suddenly turned round, when the canoe gave a roll, the outrigger flew
  • overhead, and the next moment came rap on the doctor's skull, and we
  • were both in the water.
  • Fortunately, we were just over a ledge of coral, not half-a-fathom
  • under the surface. Depressing one end of the filled canoe, and
  • letting go of it quickly, it bounced up, and discharged a great part
  • of its contents; so that we easily baled out the remainder, and again
  • embarked. This time, my comrade coiled himself away in a very small
  • space; and enjoining upon him not to draw a single unnecessary
  • breath, I proceeded to urge the canoe along by myself. I was
  • astonished at his docility, never speaking a word, and stirring
  • neither hand nor foot; but the secret was, he was unable to swim, and
  • in case we met with a second mishap, there were no more ledges
  • beneath to stand upon. "Crowning's but a shabby way of going out of
  • the world," he exclaimed, upon my rallying him; "and I'm not going to
  • be guilty of it."
  • At last, the ship was at hand, and we approached with much caution,
  • wishing to avoid being hailed by anyone from the quarter-deck.
  • Dropping silently under her bows, we heard a low whistle--the signal
  • agreed upon--and presently a goodly-sized bag was lowered over to us.
  • We cut the line, and then paddled away as fast as we could, and made
  • the best of our way home. Here, we found the rest waiting
  • impatiently.
  • The bag turned out to be well filled with sweet potatoes boiled, cubes
  • of salt beef and pork, and a famous sailors' pudding, what they call
  • "duff," made of flour and water, and of about the consistence of an
  • underdone brick. With these delicacies, and keen appetites, we went
  • out into the moonlight, and had a nocturnal picnic.
  • CHAPTER XLII.
  • MOTOO-OTOO A TAHITIAN CASUIST
  • THE Pill Box was sometimes employed for other purposes than that
  • described in the last chapter. We sometimes went a-pleasuring in it.
  • Right in the middle of Papeetee harbour is a bright, green island, one
  • circular grove of waving palms, and scarcely a hundred yards across.
  • It is of coral formation; and all round, for many rods out, the bay
  • is so shallow that you might wade anywhere. Down in these waters, as
  • transparent as air, you see coral plants of every hue and shape
  • imaginable:--antlers, tufts of azure, waving reeds like stalks of
  • grain, and pale green buds and mosses. In some places, you look
  • through prickly branches down to a snow-white floor of sand,
  • sprouting with flinty bulbs; and crawling among these are strange
  • shapes:--some bristling with spikes, others clad in shining coats of
  • mail, and here and there, round forms all spangled with eyes.
  • The island is called Hotoo-Otoo; and around Hotoo-Otoo have I often
  • paddled of a white moonlight night, pausing now and then to admire
  • the marine gardens beneath.
  • The place is the private property of the queen, who has a residence
  • there--a melancholy-looking range of bamboo houses--neglected and
  • falling to decay among the trees.
  • Commanding the harbour as it does, her majesty has done all she could
  • to make a fortress of the island. The margin has been raised and
  • levelled, and built up with a low parapet of hewn Hocks of coral.
  • Behind the parapet are ranged, at wide intervals, a number of rusty
  • old cannon, of all fashions and calibres. They are mounted upon lame,
  • decrepit-looking carriages, ready to sink under the useless burden of
  • bearing them up. Indeed, two or three have given up the ghost
  • altogether, and the pieces they sustained lie half buried among their
  • bleaching bones. Several of the cannon are spiked; probably with a
  • view of making them more formidable; as they certainly must be to
  • anyone undertaking to fire them off.
  • Presented to Pomaree at various times by captains of British armed
  • ships, these poor old "dogs of war," thus toothless and turned out to
  • die, formerly bayed in full pack as the battle-hounds of Old England.
  • There was something about Hotoo-Otoo that struck my fancy; and I
  • registered a vow to plant my foot upon its soil, notwithstanding an
  • old bareheaded sentry menaced me in the moonlight with an unsightly
  • musket. As my canoe drew scarcely three inches of water, I could
  • paddle close up to the parapet without grounding; but every time I
  • came near, the old man ran toward me, pushing his piece forward, but
  • never clapping it to his shoulder. Thinking he only meant to frighten
  • me, I at last dashed the canoe right up to the wall, purposing a
  • leap. It was the rashest act of my life; for never did cocoa-nut come
  • nearer getting demolished than mine did then. With the stock of his
  • gun, the old warder fetched a tremendous blow, which I managed to
  • dodge; and then falling back, succeeded in paddling out of harm's
  • reach.
  • He must have been dumb; for never a word did he utter; but grinning
  • from ear to ear, and with his white cotton robe streaming in the
  • moonlight, he looked more like the spook of the island than anything
  • mortal.
  • I tried to effect my object by attacking him in the rear--but he was
  • all front; running about the place as I paddled, and presenting his
  • confounded musket wherever I went. At last I was obliged to retreat;
  • and to this day my vow remains unfulfilled.
  • It was a few days after my repulse from before the walls of Hotoo-Otoo
  • that I heard a curious case of casuistry argued between one of the
  • most clever and intelligent natives I ever saw in Tahiti, a man by
  • the name of Arheetoo, and our learned Theban of a doctor.
  • It was this:--whether it was right and lawful for anyone, being a
  • native, to keep the European Sabbath, in preference to the day set
  • apart as such by the missionaries, and so considered by the islanders
  • in general.
  • It must be known that the missionaries of the good ship Duff, who more
  • than half-a-century ago established the Tahitian reckoning, came
  • hither by the way of the Cape of Good Hope; and by thus sailing to
  • the eastward, lost one precious day of their lives all round, getting
  • about that much in advance of Greenwich time. For this reason,
  • vessels coming round Cape Horn--as they most all do nowadays--find it
  • Sunday in Tahiti, when, according to their own view of the matter, it
  • ought to be Saturday. But as it won't do to alter the log, the
  • sailors keep their Sabbath, and the islanders theirs.
  • This confusion perplexes the poor natives mightily; and it is to no
  • purpose that you endeavour to explain so incomprehensible a
  • phenomenon. I once saw a worthy old missionary essay to shed some
  • light on the subject; and though I understood but a few of the words
  • employed, I could easily get at the meaning of his illustrations.
  • They were something like the following:
  • "Here," says he, "you see this circle" (describing a large one on the
  • ground with a stick); "very good; now you see this spot here"
  • (marking a point in the perimeter): "well; this is Beretanee
  • (England), and I'm going to sail round to Tahiti. Here I go, then
  • (following the circle round), and there goes the sun (snatching up
  • another stick, and commissioning a bandy-legged native to travel
  • round with it in a contrary direction). Now then, we are both off,
  • and both going away from each other; and here you see I have arrived
  • at Tahiti (making a sudden stop); and look now where Bandy Legs is!"
  • But the crowd strenuously maintained that Bandy Legs ought to be
  • somewhere above them in the atmosphere; for it was a traditionary
  • fact that the people from the Duff came ashore when the sun was high
  • overhead. And here the old gentleman, being a very good sort of man,
  • doubtless, but no astronomer, was obliged to give up.
  • Arheetoo, the casuist alluded to, though a member of the church, and
  • extremely conscientious about what Sabbath he kept, was more liberal
  • in other matters. Learning that I was something of a "mick-onaree"
  • (in this sense, a man able to read, and cunning in the use of the
  • pen), he desired the slight favour of my forging for him a set of
  • papers; for which, he said, he would be much obliged, and give me a
  • good dinner of roast pig and Indian turnip in the bargain.
  • Now, Arheetoo was one of those who board the shipping for their
  • washing; and the competition being very great (the proudest chiefs
  • not disdaining to solicit custom in person, though the work is done
  • by their dependants), he had decided upon a course suggested by a
  • knowing sailor, a friend of his. He wished to have manufactured a set
  • of certificates, purporting to come from certain man-of-war and
  • merchant captains, known to have visited the island; recommending him
  • as one of the best getters up of fine linen in all Polynesia.
  • At this time, Arheetoo had known me but two hours; and, as he made the
  • proposition very coolly, I thought it rather presumptuous, and told
  • him so. But as it was quite impossible to convey a hint, and there
  • was a slight impropriety in the thing, I did not resent the insult,
  • but simply declined.
  • CHAPTER XLIII.
  • ONE IS JUDGED BY THE COMPANY HE KEEPS
  • ALTHOUGH, from its novelty, life at Captain Bob's was pleasant enough,
  • for the time; there were some few annoyances connected with it
  • anything but agreeable to a "soul of sensibility."
  • Prejudiced against us by the malevolent representations of the consul
  • and others, many worthy foreigners ashore regarded us as a set of
  • lawless vagabonds; though, truth to speak, better behaved sailors
  • never stepped on the island, nor any who gave less trouble to the
  • natives. But, for all this, whenever we met a respectably-dressed
  • European, ten to one he shunned us by going over to the other side of
  • the road. This was very unpleasant, at least to myself; though,
  • certes, it did not prey upon the minds of the others.
  • To give an instance.
  • Of a fine evening in Tahiti--but they are all fine evenings there--you
  • may see a bevy of silk bonnets and parasols passing along the Broom
  • Road: perhaps a band of pale, little white urchins--sickly
  • exotics--and, oftener still, sedate, elderly gentlemen, with canes;
  • at whose appearance the natives, here and there, slink into their
  • huts. These are the missionaries, their wives, and children, taking a
  • family airing. Sometimes, by the bye, they take horse, and ride down
  • to Point Venus and back; a distance of several miles. At this place
  • is settled the only survivor of the first missionaries that
  • landed--an old, white-headed, saint-like man, by the name of Wilson,
  • the father of our friend, the consul.
  • The little parties on foot were frequently encountered; and,
  • recalling, as they did, so many pleasant recollections of home and
  • the ladies, I really longed for a dress coat and beaver that I might
  • step up and pay my respects. But, situated as I was, this was out of
  • the question. On one occasion, however, I received a kind, inquisitive
  • glance from a matron in gingham. Sweet lady! I have not forgotten
  • her: her gown was a plaid.
  • But a glance, like hers, was not always bestowed.
  • One evening, passing the verandah of a missionary's dwelling, the
  • dame, his wife, and a pretty, blonde young girl, with ringlets, were
  • sitting there, enjoying the sea-breeze, then coming in, all cool and
  • refreshing, from the spray of the reef. As I approached, the old lady
  • peered hard at me; and her very cap seemed to convey a prim rebuke.
  • The blue, English eyes, by her side, were also bent on me. But, oh
  • Heavens! what a glance to receive from such a beautiful creature! As
  • for the mob cap, not a fig did I care for it; but, to be taken for
  • anything but a cavalier, by the ringleted one, was absolutely
  • unendurable.
  • I resolved on a courteous salute, to show my good-breeding, if nothing
  • more. But, happening to wear a sort of turban--hereafter to be
  • particularly alluded to--there was no taking it off and putting it on
  • again with anything like dignity. At any rate, then, here goes a how.
  • But, another difficulty presented itself; my loose frock was so
  • voluminous that I doubted whether any spinal curvature would be
  • perceptible.
  • "Good evening, ladies," exclaimed I, at last, advancing winningly; "a
  • delightful air from the sea, ladies."
  • Hysterics and hartshorn! who would have thought it? The young lady
  • screamed, and the old one came near fainting. As for myself, I
  • retreated in double-quick time; and scarcely drew breath until safely
  • housed in the Calabooza.
  • CHAPTER XLIV.
  • CATHEDRAL OF PAPOAR--THE CHURCH OF THE COCOA-NUTS
  • ON Sundays I always attended the principal native church, on the
  • outskirts of the village of Papeetee, and not far from the Calabooza
  • Beretanee. It was esteemed the best specimen of architecture in
  • Tahiti.
  • Of late, they have built their places of worship with more reference
  • to durability than formerly. At one time, there were no less than
  • thirty-six on the island--mere barns, tied together with thongs,
  • which went to destruction in a very few years.
  • One, built many years ago in this style, was a most remarkable
  • structure. It was erected by Pomaree II., who, on this occasion,
  • showed all the zeal of a royal proselyte. The building was over seven
  • hundred feet in length, and of a proportionate width; the vast
  • ridge-pole was at intervals supported by a row of thirty-six
  • cylindrical trunks of the bread-fruit tree; and, all round, the
  • wall-plates rested on shafts of the palm. The roof--steeply inclining
  • to within a man's height of the ground--was thatched with leaves, and
  • the sides of the edifice were open. Thus spacious was the Royal
  • Mission Chapel of Papoar.
  • At its dedication, three distinct sermons were, from different
  • pulpits, preached to an immense concourse gathered from all parts of
  • the island.
  • As the chapel was built by the king's command, nearly as great a
  • multitude was employed in its construction as swarmed over the
  • scaffolding of the great temple of the Jews. Much less time, however,
  • was expended. In less than three weeks from planting the first post,
  • the last tier of palmetto-leaves drooped from the eaves, and the work
  • was done.
  • Apportioned to the several chiefs and their dependants, the labour,
  • though immense, was greatly facilitated by everyone's bringing his
  • post, or his rafter, or his pole strung with thatching, ready for
  • instant use. The materials thus prepared being afterwards secured
  • together by thongs, there was literally "neither hammer, nor axe, nor
  • any tool of iron heard in the house while it was building."
  • But the most singular circumstance connected with this South Sea
  • cathedral remains to be related. As well for the beauty as the
  • advantages of such a site, the islanders love to dwell near the
  • mountain streams; and so, a considerable brook, after descending from
  • the hills and watering the valley, was bridged over in three places,
  • and swept clean through the chapel.
  • Flowing waters! what an accompaniment to the songs of the sanctuary;
  • mingling with them the praises and thanksgivings of the green
  • solitudes inland.
  • But the chapel of the Polynesian Solomon has long since been deserted.
  • Its thousand rafters of habiscus have decayed, and fallen to the
  • ground; and now, the stream murmurs over them in its bed.
  • The present metropolitan church of Tahiti is very unlike the one just
  • described. It is of moderate dimensions, boarded over, and painted
  • white. It is furnished also with blinds, but no sashes; indeed, were
  • it not for the rustic thatch, it would remind one of a plain chapel
  • at home.
  • The woodwork was all done by foreign carpenters, of whom there are
  • always several about Papeetee.
  • Within, its aspect is unique, and cannot fail to interest a stranger.
  • The rafters overhead are bound round with fine matting of variegated
  • dyes; and all along the ridge-pole these trappings hang pendent, in
  • alternate bunches of tassels and deep fringes of stained grass. The
  • floor is composed of rude planks. Regular aisles run between ranges
  • of native settees, bottomed with crossed braids of the cocoa-nut
  • fibre, and furnished with backs.
  • But the pulpit, made of a dark, lustrous wood, and standing at one
  • end, is by far the most striking object. It is preposterously lofty;
  • indeed, a capital bird's-eye view of the congregation ought to be had
  • from its summit.
  • Nor does the church lack a gallery, which runs round on three sides,
  • and is supported by columns of the cocoa-nut tree.
  • Its facings are here and there daubed over with a tawdry blue; and in
  • other places (without the slightest regard to uniformity), patches of
  • the same colour may be seen. In their ardour to decorate the
  • sanctuary, the converts must have borrowed each a brush full of
  • paint, and zealously daubed away at the first surface that offered.
  • As hinted, the general impression is extremely curious. Little light
  • being admitted, and everything being of a dark colour, there is an
  • indefinable Indian aspect of duskiness throughout. A strange, woody
  • smell, also--more or less pervading every considerable edifice in
  • Polynesia--is at once perceptible. It suggests the idea of worm-eaten
  • idols packed away in some old lumber-room at hand.
  • For the most part, the congregation attending this church is composed
  • of the better and wealthier orders--the chiefs and their retainers;
  • in short, the rank and fashion of the island. This class is
  • infinitely superior in personal beauty and general healthfulness to
  • the "marenhoar," or common people; the latter having been more
  • exposed to the worst and most debasing evils of foreign intercourse.
  • On Sundays, the former are invariably arrayed in their finery; and
  • thus appear to the best advantage. Nor are they driven to the chapel,
  • as some of their inferiors are to other places of worship; on the
  • contrary, capable of maintaining a handsome exterior, and possessing
  • greater intelligence, they go voluntarily.
  • In respect of the woodland colonnade supporting its galleries, I
  • called this chapel the Church of the Cocoa-nuts.
  • It was the first place for Christian worship in Polynesia that I had
  • seen; and the impression upon entering during service was all the
  • stronger. Majestic-looking chiefs whose fathers had hurled the
  • battle-club, and old men who had seen sacrifices smoking upon the
  • altars of Oro, were there. And hark! hanging from the bough of a
  • bread-fruit tree without, a bell is being struck with a bar of iron by
  • a native lad. In the same spot, the blast of the war-conch had often
  • resounded. But to the proceedings within.
  • The place is well filled. Everywhere meets the eye the gay calico
  • draperies worn on great occasions by the higher classes, and forming
  • a strange contrast of patterns and colours. In some instances, these
  • are so fashioned as to resemble as much as possible European
  • garments. This is in excessively bad taste. Coats and pantaloons,
  • too, are here and there seen; but they look awkwardly enough, and take
  • away from the general effect.
  • But it is the array of countenances that most strikes you. Each is
  • suffused with the peculiar animation of the Polynesians, when thus
  • collected in large numbers. Every robe is rustling, every limb in
  • motion, and an incessant buzzing going on throughout the assembly.
  • The tumult is so great that the voice of the placid old missionary,
  • who now rises, is almost inaudible. Some degree of silence is at
  • length obtained through the exertions of half-a-dozen strapping
  • fellows, in white shirts and no pantaloons. Running in among the
  • settees, they are at great pains to inculcate the impropriety of
  • making a noise by creating a most unnecessary racket themselves. This
  • part of the service was quite comical.
  • There is a most interesting Sabbath School connected with the church;
  • and the scholars, a vivacious, mischievous set, were in one part of
  • the gallery. I was amused by a party in a corner. The teacher sat at
  • one end of the bench, with a meek little fellow by his side. When the
  • others were disorderly, this young martyr received a rap; intended,
  • probably, as a sample of what the rest might expect, if they didn't
  • amend.
  • Standing in the body of the church, and leaning against a pillar, was
  • an old man, in appearance very different from others of his
  • countrymen. He wore nothing but a coarse, scant mantle of faded
  • tappa; and from his staring, bewildered manner, I set him down as an
  • aged bumpkin from the interior, unaccustomed to the strange sights
  • and sounds of the metropolis. This old worthy was sharply reprimanded
  • for standing up, and thus intercepting the view of those behind; but
  • not comprehending exactly what was said to him, one of the
  • white-liveried gentry made no ceremony of grasping him by the
  • shoulders, and fairly crushing him down into a seat.
  • During all this, the old missionary in the pulpit--as well as his
  • associates beneath, never ventured to interfere--leaving everything
  • to native management. With South Sea islanders, assembled in any
  • numbers, there is no other way of getting along.
  • CHAPTER XLV.
  • MISSIONARY'S SERMON; WITH SOME REFLECTIONS
  • SOME degree of order at length restored, the service was continued, by
  • singing. The choir was composed of twelve or fifteen ladies of the
  • mission, occupying a long bench to the left of the pulpit. Almost the
  • entire congregation joined in.
  • The first air fairly startled me; it was the brave tune of Old
  • Hundred, adapted to a Tahitian psalm. After the graceless scenes I
  • had recently passed through, this circumstance, with all its
  • accessories, moved me forcibly.
  • Many voices around were of great sweetness and compass. The singers,
  • also, seemed to enjoy themselves mightily; some of them pausing, now
  • and then, and looking round, as if to realize the scene more fully.
  • In truth, they sang right joyously, despite the solemnity of the
  • tune.
  • The Tahitians have much natural talent for singing; and, on all
  • occasions, are exceedingly fond of it. I have often heard a stave or
  • two of psalmody, hummed over by rakish young fellows, like a snatch
  • from an opera.
  • With respect to singing, as in most other matters, the Tahitians
  • widely differ from the people of the Sandwich Islands; where the
  • parochial flocks may be said rather to Heat than sing.
  • The psalm concluded, a prayer followed. Very considerately, the good
  • old missionary made it short; for the congregation became fidgety and
  • inattentive as soon as it commenced.
  • A chapter of the Tahitian Bible was now read; a text selected; and the
  • sermon began. It was listened to with more attention than I had
  • anticipated.
  • Having been informed, from various sources, that the discourses of the
  • missionaries, being calculated to engage the attention of their
  • simple auditors, were, naturally enough, of a rather amusing
  • description to strangers; in short, that they had much to say about
  • steamboats, lord mayor's coaches, and the way fires are put out in
  • London, I had taken care to provide myself with a good interpreter, in
  • the person of an intelligent Hawaiian sailor, whose acquaintance I
  • had made.
  • "Now, Jack," said I, before entering, "hear every word, and tell me
  • what you can as the missionary goes on."
  • Jack's was not, perhaps, a critical version of the discourse; and at
  • the time, I took no notes of what he said. Nevertheless, I will here
  • venture to give what I remember of it; and, as far as possible, in
  • Jack's phraseology, so as to lose nothing by a double translation.
  • "Good friends, I glad to see you; and I very well like to have some
  • talk with you to-day. Good friends, very bad times in Tahiti; it make
  • me weep. Pomaree is gone--the island no more yours, but the Wee-wees'
  • (French). Wicked priests here, too; and wicked idols in woman's
  • clothes, and brass chains.
  • "Good friends, no you speak, or look at them--but I know you
  • won't--they belong to a set of robbers--the wicked Wee-wees. Soon these
  • bad men be made to go very quick. Beretanee ships of thunder come and
  • away they go. But no more 'bout this now. I speak more by by.
  • "Good friends, many whale-ships here now; and many bad men come in
  • 'em. No good sailors living--that you know very well. They come here,
  • 'cause so bad they no keep 'em home.
  • "My good little girls, no run after sailors--no go where they go; they
  • harm you. Where they come from, no good people talk to 'em--just like
  • dogs. Here, they talk to Pomaree, and drink arva with great Poofai.
  • "Good friends, this very small island, but very wicked, and very poor;
  • these two go together. Why Beretanee so great? Because that island
  • good island, and send mickonaree to poor kannaka In Beretanee, every
  • man rich: plenty things to buy; and plenty things to sell. Houses
  • bigger than Pomaree's, and more grand. Everybody, too, ride about in
  • coaches, bigger than hers; and wear fine tappa every day. (Several
  • luxurious appliances of civilization were here enumerated, and
  • described.)
  • "Good friends, little to eat left at my house. Schooner from Sydney no
  • bring bag of flour: and kannaka no bring pig and fruit enough.
  • Mickonaree do great deal for kannaka; kannaka do little for
  • mickonaree. So, good friends, weave plenty of cocoa-nut baskets, fill
  • 'em, and bring 'em to-morrow."
  • Such was the substance of great part of this discourse; and, whatever
  • may be thought of it, it was specially adapted to the minds of the
  • islanders: who are susceptible to no impressions, except from things
  • palpable, or novel and striking. To them, a dry sermon would be dry
  • indeed.
  • The Tahitians can hardly ever be said to reflect: they are all
  • impulse; and so, instead of expounding dogmas, the missionaries give
  • them the large type, pleasing cuts, and short and easy lessons of the
  • primer. Hence, anything like a permanent religious impression is
  • seldom or never produced.
  • In fact, there is, perhaps, no race upon earth, less disposed, by
  • nature, to the monitions of Christianity, than the people of the
  • South Seas. And this assertion is made with full knowledge of what is
  • called the "Great Revival at the Sandwich Islands," about the year
  • 1836; when several thousands were, in the course of a few weeks,
  • admitted into the bosom of the Church. But this result was brought
  • about by no sober moral convictions; as an almost instantaneous
  • relapse into every kind of licentiousness soon after testified. It
  • was the legitimate effect of a morbid feeling, engendered by the
  • sense of severe physical wants, preying upon minds excessively prone
  • to superstition; and, by fanatical preaching, inflamed into the belief
  • that the gods of the missionaries were taking vengeance upon the
  • wickedness of the land.
  • It is a noteworthy fact that those very traits in the Tahitians, which
  • induced the London Missionary Society to regard them as the most
  • promising subjects for conversion, and which led, moreover, to the
  • selection of their island as the very first field for missionary
  • labour, eventually proved the most serious obstruction. An air of
  • softness in their manners, great apparent ingenuousness and docility,
  • at first misled; but these were the mere accompaniments of an
  • indolence, bodily and mental; a constitutional voluptuousness; and an
  • aversion to the least restraint; which, however fitted for the
  • luxurious state of nature, in the tropics, are the greatest possible
  • hindrances to the strict moralities of Christianity.
  • Added to all this is a quality inherent in Polynesians; and more akin
  • to hypocrisy than anything else. It leads them to assume the most
  • passionate interest in matters for which they really feel little or
  • none whatever; but in which, those whose power they dread, or whose
  • favour they court, they believe to be at all affected. Thus, in their
  • heathen state, the Sandwich Islanders actually knocked out their
  • teeth, tore their hair, and mangled their bodies with shells, to
  • testify their inconsolable grief at the demise of a high chief, or
  • member of the royal family. And yet, Vancouver relates that, on such
  • an occasion, upon which he happened to be present, those apparently
  • the most abandoned to their feelings, immediately assumed the utmost
  • light-heartedness on receiving the present of a penny whistle, or a
  • Dutch looking-glass. Similar instances, also, have come under my own
  • observation.
  • The following is an illustration of the trait alluded to, as
  • occasionally manifested among the converted Polynesians.
  • At one of the Society Islands--Baiatair, I believe--the natives, for
  • special reasons, desired to commend themselves particularly to the
  • favour of the missionaries. Accordingly, during divine service, many
  • of them behaved in a manner, otherwise unaccountable, and precisely
  • similar to their behaviour as heathens. They pretended to be wrought
  • up to madness by the preaching which they heard. They rolled their
  • eyes; foamed at the mouth; fell down in fits; and so were carried
  • home. Yet, strange to relate, all this was deemed the evidence of the
  • power of the Most High; and, as such, was heralded abroad.
  • But, to return to the Church of the Cocoa-nuts. The blessing
  • pronounced, the congregation disperse; enlivening the Broom Road with
  • their waving mantles. On either hand, they disappear down the shaded
  • pathways, which lead off from the main route, conducting to hamlets
  • in the groves, or to the little marine villas upon the beach. There
  • is considerable hilarity; and you would suppose them just from an
  • old-fashioned "hevar," or jolly heathen dance. Those who carry Bibles
  • swing them carelessly from their arms by cords of sinnate.
  • The Sabbath is no ordinary day with the Tahitians. So far as doing any
  • work is concerned, it is scrupulously observed. The canoes are hauled
  • up on the beach; the nets are spread to dry. Passing by the hen-coop
  • huts on the roadside, you find their occupants idle, as usual; but
  • less disposed to gossip. After service, repose broods over the whole
  • island; the valleys reaching inland look stiller than ever.
  • In short, it is Sunday--their "Taboo Day"; the very word formerly
  • expressing the sacredness of their pagan observances now proclaiming
  • the sanctity of the Christian Sabbath.
  • CHAPTER XLVI.
  • SOMETHING ABOUT THE KANNAKIPPERS
  • A WORTHY young man, formerly a friend of mine (I speak of Kooloo with
  • all possible courtesy, since after our intimacy there would be an
  • impropriety in doing otherwise)--this worthy youth, having some
  • genteel notions of retirement, dwelt in a "maroo boro," or
  • bread-fruit shade, a pretty nook in a wood, midway between the
  • Calabooza Beretanee and the Church of Cocoa-nuts. Hence, at the latter
  • place, he was one of the most regular worshippers.
  • Kooloo was a blade. Standing up in the congregation in all the bravery
  • of a striped calico shirt, with the skirts rakishly adjusted over a
  • pair of white sailor trousers, and hair well anointed with cocoa-nut
  • oil, he ogled the ladies with an air of supreme satisfaction. Nor
  • were his glances unreturned.
  • But such looks as the Tahitian belles cast at each other: frequently
  • turning up their noses at the advent of a new cotton mantle recently
  • imported in the chest of some amorous sailor. Upon one occasion, I
  • observed a group of young girls, in tunics of course, soiled
  • sheeting, disdainfully pointing at a damsel in a flaming red one.
  • "Oee tootai owree!" said they with ineffable scorn, "itai maitai!"
  • (You are a good-for-nothing huzzy, no better than you should be).
  • Now, Kooloo communed with the church; so did all these censorious
  • young ladies. Yet after eating bread-fruit at the Eucharist, I knew
  • several of them, the same night, to be guilty of some sad
  • derelictions.
  • Puzzled by these things, I resolved to find out, if possible, what
  • ideas, if any, they entertained of religion; but as one's spiritual
  • concerns are rather delicate for a stranger to meddle with, I went to
  • work as adroitly as I could.
  • Farnow, an old native who had recently retired from active pursuits,
  • having thrown up the business of being a sort of running footman to
  • the queen, had settled down in a snug little retreat, not fifty rods
  • from Captain Bob's. His selecting our vicinity for his residence may
  • have been with some view to the advantages it afforded for
  • introducing his three daughters into polite circles. At any rate, not
  • averse to receiving the attentions of so devoted a gallant as the
  • doctor, the sisters (communicants, be it remembered) kindly extended
  • to him free permission to visit them sociably whenever he pleased.
  • We dropped in one evening, and found the ladies at home. My long
  • friend engaged his favourites, the two younger girls, at the game of
  • "Now," or hunting a stone under three piles of tappa. For myself, I
  • lounged on a mat with Ideea the eldest, dallying with her grass fan,
  • and improving my knowledge of Tahitian.
  • The occasion was well adapted to my purpose, and I began.
  • "Ah, Ideea, mickonaree oee?" the same as drawling out--"By the bye,
  • Miss Ideea, do you belong to the church?"
  • "Yes, me mickonaree," was the reply.
  • But the assertion was at once qualified by certain, reservations; so
  • curious that I cannot forbear their relation.
  • "Mickonaree ena" (church member here), exclaimed she, laying her hand
  • upon her mouth, and a strong emphasis on the adverb. In the same way,
  • and with similar exclamations, she touched her eyes and hands. This
  • done, her whole air changed in an instant; and she gave me to
  • understand, by unmistakable gestures, that in certain other respects
  • she was not exactly a "mickonaree." In short, Ideea was
  • "A sad good Christian at the heart--A very heathen in the carnal
  • part."
  • The explanation terminated in a burst of laughter, in which all three
  • sisters joined; and for fear of looking silly, the doctor and myself.
  • As soon as good-breeding would permit, we took leave.
  • The hypocrisy in matters of religion, so apparent in all Polynesian
  • converts, is most injudiciously nourished in Tahiti by a zealous and
  • in many cases, a coercive superintendence over their spiritual
  • well-being. But it is only manifested with respect to the common
  • people, their superiors being exempted.
  • On Sunday mornings, when the prospect is rather small for a full house
  • in the minor churches, a parcel of fellows are actually sent out with
  • ratans into the highways and byways as whippers-in of the
  • congregation. This is a sober fact.
  • These worthies constitute a religious police; and you always know them
  • by the great white diapers they wear. On week days they are quite as
  • busy as on Sundays; to the great terror of the inhabitants, going all
  • over the island, and spying out the wickedness thereof.
  • Moreover, they are the collectors of fines--levied generally in grass
  • mats--for obstinate non-attendance upon divine worship, and other
  • offences amenable to the ecclesiastical judicature of the
  • missionaries.
  • Old Bob called these fellows "kannakippers" a corruption, I fancy, of
  • our word constable.
  • He bore them a bitter grudge; and one day, drawing near home, and
  • learning that two of them were just then making a domiciliary visit
  • at his house, he ran behind a bush; and as they came forth, two green
  • bread-fruit from a hand unseen took them each between the shoulders.
  • The sailors in the Calabooza were witnesses to this, as well as
  • several natives; who, when the intruders were out of sight, applauded
  • Captain Bob's spirit in no measured terms; the ladies present
  • vehemently joining in. Indeed, the kannakippers have no greater
  • enemies than the latter. And no wonder: the impertinent varlets,
  • popping into their houses at all hours, are forever prying into their
  • peccadilloes.
  • Kooloo, who at times was patriotic and pensive, and mourned the evils
  • under which his country was groaning, frequently inveighed against
  • the statute which thus authorized an utter stranger to interfere with
  • domestic arrangements. He himself--quite a ladies' man--had often
  • been annoyed thereby. He considered the kannakippers a bore.
  • Beside their confounded inquisitiveness, they add insult to injury, by
  • making a point of dining out every day at some hut within the limits
  • of their jurisdiction. As for the gentleman of the house, his meek
  • endurance of these things is amazing. But "good easy man," there is
  • nothing for him but to be as hospitable as possible.
  • These gentry are indefatigable. At the dead of night prowling round
  • the houses, and in the daytime hunting amorous couples in the groves.
  • Yet in one instance the chase completely baffled them.
  • It was thus.
  • Several weeks previous to our arrival at the island, someone's husband
  • and another person's wife, having taken a mutual fancy for each
  • other, went out for a walk. The alarm was raised, and with hue and
  • cry they were pursued; but nothing was seen of them again until the
  • lapse of some ninety days; when we were called out from the Calabooza
  • to behold a great mob inclosing the lovers, and escorting them for
  • trial to the village.
  • Their appearance was most singular. The girdle excepted, they were
  • quite naked; their hair was long, burned yellow at the ends, and
  • entangled with burrs; and their bodies scratched and scarred in all
  • directions. It seems that, acting upon the "love in a cottage"
  • principle, they had gone right into the interior; and throwing up a
  • hut in an uninhabited valley, had lived there, until in an unlucky
  • stroll they were observed and captured.
  • They were subsequently condemned to make one hundred fathoms of Broom
  • Road--a six months' work, if not more.
  • Often, when seated in a house, conversing quietly with its inmates, I
  • have known them betray the greatest confusion at the sudden
  • announcement of a kannakipper's being in sight. To be reported by one
  • of these officials as a "Tootai Owree" (in general, signifying a bad
  • person or disbeliever in Christianity), is as much dreaded as the
  • forefinger of Titus Gates was, levelled at an alleged papist.
  • But the islanders take a sly revenge upon them. Upon entering a
  • dwelling, the kannakippers oftentimes volunteer a pharisaical
  • prayer-meeting: hence, they go in secret by the name of
  • "Boora-Artuas," literally, "Pray-to-Gods."
  • CHAPTER XLVII.
  • HOW THEY DRESS IN TAHITI
  • EXCEPT where the employment of making "tappa" is inflicted as a
  • punishment, the echoes of the cloth-mallet have long since died away
  • in the listless valleys of Tahiti. Formerly, the girls spent their
  • mornings like ladies at their tambour frames; now, they are lounged
  • away in almost utter indolence. True, most of them make their own
  • garments; but this comprises but a stitch or two; the ladies of the
  • mission, by the bye, being entitled to the credit of teaching them to
  • sew.
  • The "kihee whihenee," or petticoat, is a mere breadth of white cotton,
  • or calico; loosely enveloping the person, from the waist to the feet.
  • Fastened simply by a single tuck, or by twisting the upper corners
  • together, this garment frequently becomes disordered; thus affording
  • an opportunity of being coquettishly adjusted. Over the "kihee," they
  • wear a sort of gown, open in front, very loose, and as negligent as
  • you please. The ladies here never dress for dinner.
  • But what shall be said of those horrid hats! Fancy a bunch of straw,
  • plaited into the shape of a coal-scuttle, and stuck, bolt upright, on
  • the crown; with a yard or two of red ribbon flying about like
  • kite-strings. Milliners of Paris, what would ye say to them! Though
  • made by the natives, they are said to have been first contrived and
  • recommended by the missionaries' wives; a report which, I really
  • trust, is nothing but scandal.
  • Curious to relate, these things for the head are esteemed exceedingly
  • becoming. The braiding of the straw is one of the few employments of
  • the higher classes; all of which but minister to the silliest vanity.
  • The young girls, however, wholly eschew the hats; leaving those dowdy
  • old souls, their mothers, to make frights of themselves.
  • As for the men, those who aspire to European garments seem to have no
  • perception of the relation subsisting between the various parts of a
  • gentleman's costume. To the wearer of a coat, for instance,
  • pantaloons are by no means indispensable; and a bell-crowned hat and
  • a girdle are full dress. The young sailor, for whom Kooloo deserted
  • me, presented him with a shaggy old pea-jacket; and with this buttoned
  • up to his chin, under a tropical sun, he promenaded the Broom Road,
  • quite elated. Doctor Long Ghost, who saw him thus, ran away with the
  • idea that he was under medical treatment at the time--in the act of
  • taking, what the quacks call, a "sweat."
  • A bachelor friend of Captain Bob rejoiced in the possession of a full
  • European suit; in which he often stormed the ladies' hearts. Having a
  • military leaning, he ornamented the coat with a great scarlet patch
  • on the breast; and mounted it also, here and there, with several
  • regimental buttons, slyly cut from the uniform of a parcel of drunken
  • marines sent ashore on a holiday from a man-of-war. But, in spite of
  • the ornaments, the dress was not exactly the thing. From the
  • tightness of the cloth across the shoulders, his elbows projected
  • from his sides, like an ungainly rider's; and his ponderous legs were
  • jammed so hard into his slim, nether garments that the threads of
  • every seam showed; and, at every step, you looked for a catastrophe.
  • In general, there seems to be no settled style of dressing among the
  • males; they wear anything they can get; in some cases, awkwardly
  • modifying the fashions of their fathers so as to accord with their
  • own altered views of what is becoming.
  • But ridiculous as many of them now appear, in foreign habiliments, the
  • Tahitians presented a far different appearance in the original
  • national costume; which was graceful in the extreme, modest to all
  • but the prudish, and peculiarly adapted to the climate. But the short
  • kilts of dyed tappa, the tasselled maroes, and other articles
  • formerly worn, are, at the present day, prohibited by law as
  • indecorous. For what reason necklaces and garlands of flowers, among
  • the women, are also forbidden, I never could learn; but, it is said,
  • that they were associated, in some way, with a forgotten heathen
  • observance.
  • Many pleasant, and, seemingly, innocent sports and pastimes, are
  • likewise interdicted. In old times, there were several athletic games
  • practised, such as wrestling, foot-racing, throwing the javelin, and
  • archery. In all these they greatly excelled; and, for some, splendid
  • festivals were instituted. Among their everyday amusements were
  • dancing, tossing the football, kite-flying, flute-playing, and
  • singing traditional ballads; now, all punishable offences; though
  • most of them have been so long in disuse that they are nearly
  • forgotten.
  • In the same way, the "Opio," or festive harvest-home of the
  • breadfruit, has been suppressed; though, as described to me by
  • Captain Bob, it seemed wholly free from any immoral tendency. Against
  • tattooing, of any kind, there is a severe law.
  • That this abolition of their national amusements and customs was not
  • willingly acquiesced in, is shown in the frequent violation of many
  • of the statutes inhibiting them; and, especially, in the frequency
  • with which their "hevars," or dances, are practised in secret.
  • Doubtless, in thus denationalizing the Tahitians, as it were, the
  • missionaries were prompted by a sincere desire for good; but the
  • effect has been lamentable. Supplied with no amusements in place of
  • those forbidden, the Tahitians, who require more recreation than
  • other people, have sunk into a listlessness, or indulge in
  • sensualities, a hundred times more pernicious than all the games ever
  • celebrated in the Temple of Tanee.
  • CHAPTER XLVIII.
  • TAHITI AS IT IS
  • AS IN the last few chapters, several matters connected with the
  • general condition of the natives have been incidentally touched upon,
  • it may be well not to leave so important a subject in a state
  • calculated to convey erroneous impressions. Let us bestow upon it,
  • therefore, something more than a mere cursory glance.
  • But in the first place, let it be distinctly understood that, in all I
  • have to say upon this subject, both here and elsewhere, I mean no
  • harm to the missionaries nor their cause; I merely desire to set
  • forth things as they actually exist.
  • Of the results which have flowed from the intercourse of foreigners
  • with the Polynesians, including the attempts to civilize and
  • Christianize them by the missionaries, Tahiti, on many accounts, is
  • obviously the fairest practical example. Indeed, it may now be
  • asserted that the experiment of Christianizing the Tahitians, and
  • improving their social condition by the introduction of foreign
  • customs, has been fully tried. The present generation have grown up
  • under the auspices of their religious instructors. And although it
  • may be urged that the labours of the latter have at times been more
  • or less obstructed by unprincipled foreigners, still, this in no wise
  • renders Tahiti any the less a fair illustration; for, with obstacles
  • like these, the missionaries in Polynesia must always, and everywhere
  • struggle.
  • Nearly sixty years have elapsed since the Tahitian mission was
  • started; and, during this period, it has received the unceasing
  • prayers and contributions of its friends abroad. Nor has any
  • enterprise of the kind called forth more devotion on the part of
  • those directly employed in it.
  • It matters not that the earlier labourers in the work, although
  • strictly conscientious, were, as a class, ignorant, and, in many
  • cases, deplorably bigoted: such traits have, in some degree,
  • characterized the pioneers of all faiths. And although in zeal and
  • disinterestedness the missionaries now on the island are, perhaps,
  • inferior to their predecessors, they have, nevertheless, in their own
  • way at least, laboured hard to make a Christian people of their
  • charge.
  • Let us now glance at the most obvious changes wrought in their
  • condition.
  • The entire system of idolatry has been done away; together with
  • several barbarous practices engrafted thereon. But this result is not
  • so much to be ascribed to the missionaries, as to the civilizing
  • effects of a long and constant intercourse with whites of all
  • nations; to whom, for many years, Tahiti has been one of the principal
  • places of resort in the South Seas. At the Sandwich Islands, the
  • potent institution of the Taboo, together with the entire paganism of
  • the land, was utterly abolished by a voluntary act of the natives
  • some time previous to the arrival of the first missionaries among
  • them.
  • The next most striking change in the Tahitians is this. From the
  • permanent residence among them of influential and respectable
  • foreigners, as well as from the frequent visits of ships-of-war,
  • recognizing the nationality of the island, its inhabitants are no
  • longer deemed fit subjects for the atrocities practised upon mere
  • savages; and hence, secure from retaliation, vessels of all kinds now
  • enter their harbours with perfect safety.
  • But let us consider what results are directly ascribable to the
  • missionaries alone.
  • In all cases, they have striven hard to mitigate the evils resulting
  • from the commerce with the whites in general. Such attempts, however,
  • have been rather injudicious, and often ineffectual: in truth, a
  • barrier almost insurmountable is presented in the dispositions of the
  • people themselves. Still, in this respect, the morality of the
  • islanders is, upon the whole, improved by the presence of the
  • missionaries.
  • But the greatest achievement of the latter, and one which in itself is
  • most hopeful and gratifying, is that they have translated the entire
  • Bible into the language of the island; and I have myself known
  • several who were able to read it with facility. They have also
  • established churches, and schools for both children and adults; the
  • latter, I regret to say, are now much neglected: which must be
  • ascribed, in a great measure, to the disorders growing out of the
  • proceedings of the French.
  • It were unnecessary here to enter diffusely into matters connected
  • with the internal government of the Tahitian churches and schools.
  • Nor, upon this head, is my information copious enough to warrant me
  • in presenting details. But we do not need them. We are merely
  • considering general results, as made apparent in the moral and
  • religious condition of the island at large.
  • Upon a subject like this, however, it would be altogether too assuming
  • for a single individual to decide; and so, in place of my own random
  • observations, which may be found elsewhere, I will here present those
  • of several known authors, made under various circumstances, at
  • different periods, and down to a comparative late date. A few very
  • brief extracts will enable the reader to mark for himself what
  • progressive improvement, if any, has taken place.
  • Nor must it be overlooked that, of these authorities, the two first in
  • order are largely quoted by the Right Reverend M. Kussell, in a work
  • composed for the express purpose of imparting information on the
  • subject of Christian missions in Polynesia. And he frankly
  • acknowledges, moreover, that they are such as "cannot fail to have
  • great weight with the public."
  • After alluding to the manifold evils entailed upon the natives by
  • foreigners, and their singularly inert condition; and after somewhat
  • too severely denouncing the undeniable errors of the mission,
  • Kotzebue, the Russian navigator, says, "A religion like this, which
  • forbids every innocent pleasure, and cramps or annihilates every
  • mental power, is a libel on the divine founder of Christianity. It is
  • true that the religion of the missionaries has, with a great deal of
  • evil, effected some good. It has restrained the vices of theft and
  • incontinence; but it has given birth to ignorance, hypocrisy, and a
  • hatred of all other modes of faith, which was once foreign to the
  • open and benevolent character of the Tahitian."
  • Captain Beechy says that, while at Tahiti, he saw scenes "which must
  • have convinced the great sceptic of the thoroughly immoral condition
  • of the people, and which would force him to conclude, as Turnbull
  • did, many years previous, that their intercourse with the Europeans
  • had tended to debase, rather than exalt their condition."
  • About the year 1834, Daniel Wheeler, an honest-hearted Quaker,
  • prompted by motives of the purest philanthropy, visited, in a vessel
  • of his own, most of the missionary settlements in the South Seas. He
  • remained some time at Tahiti; receiving the hospitalities of the
  • missionaries there, and, from time to time, exhorting the natives.
  • After bewailing their social condition, he frankly says of their
  • religious state, "Certainly, appearances are unpromising; and however
  • unwilling to adopt such a conclusion, there is reason to apprehend
  • that Christian principle is a great rarity."
  • Such, then, is the testimony of good and unbiassed men, who have been
  • upon the spot; but, how comes it to differ so widely from impressions
  • of others at home? Simply thus: instead of estimating the result of
  • missionary labours by the number of heathens who have actually been
  • made to understand and practise (in some measure at least) the
  • precepts of Christianity, this result has been unwarrantably inferred
  • from the number of those who, without any understanding of these
  • things, have in any way been induced to abandon idolatry and conform
  • to certain outward observances.
  • By authority of some kind or other, exerted upon the natives through
  • their chiefs, and prompted by the hope of some worldly benefit to the
  • latter, and not by appeals to the reason, have conversions in
  • Polynesia been in most cases brought about.
  • Even in one or two instances--so often held up as wonderful examples
  • of divine power--where the natives have impulsively burned their
  • idols, and rushed to the waters of baptism, the very suddenness of
  • the change has but indicated its unsoundness. Williams, the martyr of
  • Erromanga, relates an instance where the inhabitants of an island
  • professing Christianity voluntarily assembled, and solemnly revived
  • all their heathen customs.
  • All the world over, facts are more eloquent than words; the following
  • will show in what estimation the missionaries themselves hold the
  • present state of Christianity and morals among the converted
  • Polynesians.
  • On the island of Imeeo (attached to the Tahitian mission) is a
  • seminary under the charge of the Rev. Mr. Simpson and wife, for the
  • education of the children of the missionaries, exclusively. Sent
  • home--in many cases, at a very early age--to finish their education,
  • the pupils here are taught nothing but the rudiments of knowledge;
  • nothing more than may be learned in the native schools.
  • Notwithstanding this, the two races are kept as far as possible from
  • associating; the avowed reason being to preserve the young whites
  • from moral contamination. The better to insure this end, every effort
  • is made to prevent them from acquiring the native language.
  • They went even further at the Sandwich Islands; where, a few years
  • ago, a playground for the children of the missionaries was inclosed
  • with a fence many feet high, the more effectually to exclude the
  • wicked little Hawaiians.
  • And yet, strange as it may seem, the depravity among the Polynesians,
  • which renders precautions like these necessary, was in a measure
  • unknown before their intercourse with the whites. The excellent
  • Captain Wilson, who took the first missionaries out to Tahiti,
  • affirms that the people of that island had, in many things, "more
  • refined ideas of decency than ourselves." Vancouver, also, has some
  • noteworthy ideas on this subject, respecting the Sandwich Islanders.
  • That the immorality alluded to is continually increasing is plainly
  • shown in the numerous, severe, and perpetually violated laws against
  • licentiousness of all kinds in both groups of islands.
  • It is hardly to be expected that the missionaries would send home
  • accounts of this state of things. Hence, Captain Beechy, in alluding
  • to the "Polynesian Researches" of Ellis, says that the author has
  • impressed his readers with a far more elevated idea of the moral
  • condition of the Tahitians, and the degree of civilization to which
  • they have attained, than they deserve; or, at least, than the facts
  • which came under his observation authorized. He then goes on to say
  • that, in his intercourse with the islanders, "they had no fear of
  • him, and consequently acted from the impulse of their natural
  • feeling; so that he was the better enabled to obtain a correct
  • knowledge of their real disposition and habits."
  • Prom my own familiar intercourse with the natives, this last
  • reflection still more forcibly applies to myself.
  • CHAPTER XLIX.
  • SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED
  • WE have glanced at their moral and religious condition; let us see how
  • it is with them socially, and in other respects.
  • It has been said that the only way to civilize a people is to form in
  • them habits of industry. Judged by this principle, the Tahitians are
  • less civilized now than formerly. True, their constitutional
  • indolence is excessive; but surely, if the spirit of Christianity is
  • among them, so unchristian a vice ought to be, at least, partially
  • remedied. But the reverse is the fact. Instead of acquiring new
  • occupations, old ones have been discontinued.
  • As previously remarked, the manufacture of tappa is nearly obsolete in
  • many parts of the island. So, too, with that of the native tools and
  • domestic utensils; very few of which are now fabricated, since the
  • superiority of European wares has been made so evident.
  • This, however, would be all very well were the natives to apply
  • themselves to such occupations as would enable them to supply the few
  • articles they need. But they are far from doing so; and the majority
  • being unable to obtain European substitutes for many things before
  • made by themselves, the inevitable consequence is seen in the present
  • wretched and destitute mode of life among the common people. To me so
  • recently from a primitive valley of the Marquesas, the aspect of most
  • of the dwellings of the poorer Tahitians, and their general habits,
  • seemed anything but tidy; nor could I avoid a comparison,
  • immeasurably to the disadvantage of these partially civilized
  • islanders.
  • In Tahiti, the people have nothing to do; and idleness, everywhere, is
  • the parent of vice. "There is scarcely anything," says the good old
  • Quaker Wheeler, "so striking, or pitiable, as their aimless,
  • nerveless mode of spending life."
  • Attempts have repeatedly been made to rouse them from their
  • sluggishness; but in vain. Several years ago, the cultivation of
  • cotton was introduced; and, with their usual love of novelty, they
  • went to work with great alacrity; but the interest excited quickly
  • subsided, and now, not a pound of the article is raised.
  • About the same time, machinery for weaving was sent out from London;
  • and a factory was started at Afrehitoo, in Imeeo. The whiz of the
  • wheels and spindles brought in volunteers from all quarters, who
  • deemed it a privilege to be admitted to work: yet, in six months, not
  • a boy could be hired; and the machinery was knocked down, and packed
  • off to Sydney.
  • It was the same way with the cultivation of the sugar-cane, a plant
  • indigenous to the island; peculiarly fitted to the soil and climate,
  • and of so excellent a quality that Bligh took slips of it to the West
  • Indies. All the plantations went on famously for a while; the natives
  • swarming in the fields like ants, and making a prodigious stir. What
  • few plantations now remain are owned and worked by whites; who would
  • rather pay a drunken sailor eighteen or twenty Spanish dollars a
  • month, than hire a sober native for his "fish and tarro."
  • It is well worthy remark here, that every evidence of civilization
  • among the South Sea Islands directly pertains to foreigners; though
  • the fact of such evidence existing at all is usually urged as a proof
  • of the elevated condition of the natives. Thus, at Honolulu, the
  • capital of the Sandwich Islands, there are fine dwelling-houses,
  • several hotels, and barber-shops, ay, even billiard-rooms; but all
  • these are owned and used, be it observed, by whites. There are
  • tailors, and blacksmiths, and carpenters also; but not one of them is
  • a native.
  • The fact is, that the mechanical and agricultural employment of
  • civilized life require a kind of exertion altogether too steady and
  • sustained to agree with an indolent people like the Polynesians.
  • Calculated for a state of nature, in a climate providentially adapted
  • to it, they are unfit for any other. Nay, as a race, they cannot
  • otherwise long exist.
  • The following statement speaks for itself.
  • About the year 1777, Captain Cook estimated the population of Tahiti
  • at about two hundred thousand. By a regular census, taken some four
  • or five years ago, it was found to be only nine thousand. This
  • amazing decrease not only shows the malignancy of the evils necessary
  • to produce it; but, from the fact, the inference unavoidably follows
  • that all the wars, child murders, and other depopulating causes,
  • alleged to have existed in former times, were nothing in comparison to
  • them.
  • These evils, of course, are solely of foreign origin. To say nothing
  • of the effects of drunkenness, the occasional inroads of the
  • small-pox, and other things which might be mentioned, it is
  • sufficient to allude to a virulent disease which now taints the blood
  • of at least two-thirds of the common people of the island; and, in
  • some form or other, is transmitted from father to son.
  • Their first horror and consternation at the earlier ravages of this
  • scourge were pitiable in the extreme. The very name bestowed upon it
  • is a combination of all that is horrid and unmentionable to a
  • civilized being.
  • Distracted with their sufferings, they brought forth their sick before
  • the missionaries, when they were preaching, and cried out, "Lies,
  • lies! you tell us of salvation; and, behold, we are dying. We want no
  • other salvation than to live in this world. Where are there any saved
  • through your speech? Pomaree is dead; and we are all dying with your
  • cursed diseases. When will you give over?"
  • At present, the virulence of the disorder, in individual cases, has
  • somewhat abated; but the poison is only the more widely diffused.
  • "How dreadful and appalling," breaks forth old Wheeler, "the
  • consideration that the intercourse of distant nations should have
  • entailed upon these poor, untutored islanders a curse unprecedented,
  • and unheard of, in the annals of history."
  • In view of these things, who can remain blind to the fact that, so far
  • as mere temporal felicity is concerned, the Tahitians are far worse
  • off now, than formerly; and although their circumstances, upon the
  • whole, are bettered by the presence of the missionaries, the benefits
  • conferred by the latter become utterly insignificant when confronted
  • with the vast preponderance of evil brought about by other means.
  • Their prospects are hopeless. Nor can the most devoted efforts now
  • exempt them from furnishing a marked illustration of a principle
  • which history has always exemplified. Years ago brought to a stand,
  • where all that is corrupt in barbarism and civilization unite, to the
  • exclusion of the virtues of either state; like other uncivilized
  • beings, brought into contact with Europeans, they must here remain
  • stationary until utterly extinct.
  • The islanders themselves are mournfully watching their doom.
  • Several years since, Pomaree II. said to Tyreman and Bennet, the
  • deputies of the London Missionary Society, "You have come to see me
  • at a very bad time. Your ancestors came in the time of men, when
  • Tahiti was inhabited: you are come to behold just the remnant of my
  • people."
  • Of like import was the prediction of Teearmoar, the high-priest of
  • Paree; who lived over a hundred years ago. I have frequently heard it
  • chanted, in a low, sad tone, by aged Tahitiana:--
  • "A harree ta fow,
  • A toro ta farraro,
  • A now ta tararta."
  • "The palm-tree shall grow,
  • The coral shall spread,
  • But man shall cease."
  • CHAPTER L.
  • SOMETHING HAPPENS TO LONG GHOST
  • WE will now return to the narrative.
  • The day before the Julia sailed, Dr. Johnson paid his last call. He
  • was not quite so bland as usual. All he wanted was the men's names to
  • a paper, certifying to their having received from him sundry
  • medicaments therein mentioned. This voucher, endorsed by Captain Guy,
  • secured his pay. But he would not have obtained for it the sailors'
  • signs manual, had either the doctor or myself been present at the
  • time.
  • Now, my long friend wasted no love upon Johnson; but, for reasons of
  • his own, hated him heartily: all the same thing in one sense; for
  • either passion argues an object deserving thereof. And so, to be
  • hated cordially, is only a left-handed compliment; which shows how
  • foolish it is to be bitter against anyone.
  • For my own part, I merely felt a cool, purely incidental, and passive
  • contempt for Johnson, as a selfish, mercenary apothecary, and hence,
  • I often remonstrated with Long Ghost when he flew out against him,
  • and heaped upon him all manner of scurrilous epithets. In his
  • professional brother's presence, however, he never acted thus;
  • maintaining an amiable exterior, to help along the jokes which were
  • played.
  • I am now going to tell another story in which my long friend figures
  • with the physician: I do not wish to bring one or the other of them
  • too often upon the stage; but as the thing actually happened, I must
  • relate it.
  • A few days after Johnson presented his bill, as above mentioned, the
  • doctor expressed to me his regret that, although he (Johnson) 'had
  • apparently been played off for our entertainment, yet, nevertheless,
  • he had made money out of the transaction. And I wonder, added the
  • doctor, if that now he cannot expect to receive any further pay, he
  • could be induced to call again.
  • By a curious coincidence, not five minutes after making this
  • observation, Doctor Long Ghost himself fell down in an unaccountable
  • fit; and without asking anybody's leave, Captain Bob, who was by, at
  • once dispatched a boy, hot foot, for Johnson.
  • Meanwhile, we carried him into the Calabooza; and the natives, who
  • assembled in numbers, suggested various modes of treatment. One
  • rather energetic practitioner was for holding the patient by the
  • shoulders, while somebody tugged at his feet. This resuscitatory
  • operation was called the "Potata"; but thinking our long comrade
  • sufficiently lengthy without additional stretching, we declined
  • potataing him.
  • Presently the physician was spied coming along the Broom Road at a
  • great rate, and so absorbed in the business of locomotion, that he
  • heeded not the imprudence of being in a hurry in a tropical climate.
  • He was in a profuse perspiration; which must have been owing to the
  • warmth of his feelings, notwithstanding we had supposed him a man of
  • no heart. But his benevolent haste upon this occasion was
  • subsequently accounted for: it merely arose from professional
  • curiosity to behold a case most unusual in his Polynesian practice.
  • Now, under certain circumstances, sailors, generally so frolicsome,
  • are exceedingly particular in having everything conducted with the
  • strictest propriety. Accordingly, they deputed me, as his intimate
  • friend, to sit at Long Ghost's head, so as to be ready to officiate
  • as "spokesman" and answer all questions propounded, the rest to keep
  • silent.
  • "What's the matter?" exclaimed Johnson, out of breath, and bursting
  • into the Calabooza: "how did it happen?--speak quick!" and he looked
  • at Long Ghost.
  • I told him how the fit came on.
  • "Singular"--he observed--"very: good enough pulse;" and he let go of
  • it, and placed his hand upon the heart.
  • "But what's all that frothing at the mouth?" he continued; "and bless
  • me! look at the abdomen!"
  • The region thus denominated exhibited the most unaccountable
  • symptoms. A low, rumbling sound was heard; and a sort of undulation
  • was discernible beneath the thin cotton frock.
  • "Colic, sir?" suggested a bystander.
  • "Colic be hanged!" shouted the physician; "who ever heard of anybody
  • in a trance of the colic?"
  • During this, the patient lay upon his back, stark and straight,
  • giving no signs of life except those above mentioned.
  • "I'll bleed him!" cried Johnson at last--"run for a calabash, one of
  • you!"
  • "Life ho!" here sung out Navy Bob, as if he had just spied a sail.
  • "What under the sun's the matter with him!" cried the physician,
  • starting at the appearance of the mouth, which had jerked to one
  • side, and there remained fixed.
  • "Pr'aps it's St. Witus's hornpipe," suggested Bob.
  • "Hold the calabash!"--and the lancet was out in a moment.
  • But before the deed could be done, the face became natural;--a sigh
  • was heaved;--the eyelids quivered, opened, closed; and Long Ghost,
  • twitching all over, rolled on his side, and breathed audibly. By
  • degrees, he became sufficiently recovered to speak.
  • After trying to get something coherent out of him, Johnson withdrew;
  • evidently disappointed in the scientific interest of the case. Soon
  • after his departure, the doctor sat up; and upon being asked what
  • upon earth ailed him, shook his head mysteriously. He then deplored
  • the hardship of being an invalid in such a place, where there was not
  • the slightest provision for his comfort. This awakened the compassion
  • of our good old keeper, who offered to send him to a place where he
  • would be better cared for. Long Ghost acquiesced; and being at once
  • mounted upon the shoulders of four of Captain Bob's men, was marched
  • off in state, like the Grand Lama of Thibet.
  • Now, I do not pretend to account for his remarkable swoon; but his
  • reason for suffering himself to be thus removed from the Calabooza
  • was strongly suspected to be nothing more than a desire to insure
  • more regularity in his dinner-hour; hoping that the benevolent native
  • to whom he was going would set a good table.
  • The next morning, we were all envying his fortune; when, of a sudden,
  • he bolted in upon us, looking decidedly out of humour.
  • "Hang it!" he cried; "I'm worse off than ever; let me have some
  • breakfast!" We lowered our slender bag of ship-stores from a rafter,
  • and handed him a biscuit. While this was being munched, he went on
  • and told us his story.
  • "After leaving here, they trotted me back into a valley, and left me
  • in a hut, where an old woman lived by herself. This must be the
  • nurse, thought I; and so I asked her to kill a pig, and bake it; for
  • I felt my appetite returning. 'Ha! Hal--oee mattee--mattee
  • nuee'--(no, no; you too sick). 'The devil mattee ye,' said I--'give me
  • something to eat!' But nothing could be had. Night coming on, I had
  • to stay. Creeping into a corner, I tried to sleep; but it was to no
  • purpose;--the old crone must have had the quinsy, or something else;
  • and she kept up such a wheezing and choking that at last I sprang up,
  • and groped after her; but she hobbled away like a goblin; and that was
  • the last of her. As soon as the sun rose, I made the best of my way
  • back; and here I am." He never left us more, nor ever had a second
  • fit.
  • CHAPTER LI.
  • WILSON GIVES US THE CUT--DEPARTURE FOR IMEEO
  • ABOUT three weeks after the Julia's sailing, our conditions began to
  • be a little precarious. We were without any regular supply of food;
  • the arrival of ships was growing less frequent; and, what was worse
  • yet, all the natives but good old Captain Bob began to tire of us.
  • Nor was this to be wondered at; we were obliged to live upon their
  • benevolence, when they had little enough for themselves. Besides, we
  • were sometimes driven to acts of marauding; such as kidnapping pigs,
  • and cooking them in the groves; at which their proprietors were by no
  • means pleased.
  • In this state of affairs, we determined to march off to the consul in
  • a body; and, as he had brought us to these straits, demand an
  • adequate maintenance.
  • On the point of starting, Captain Bob's men raised the most outrageous
  • cries, and tried to prevent us. Though hitherto we had strolled about
  • wherever we pleased, this grand conjunction of our whole force, upon
  • one particular expedition, seemed to alarm them. But we assured them
  • that we were not going to assault the village; and so, after a good
  • deal of gibberish, they permitted us to leave.
  • We went straight to the Pritchard residence, where the consul dwelt.
  • This house--to which I have before referred--is quite commodious. It
  • has a wide verandah, glazed windows, and other appurtenances of a
  • civilized mansion. Upon the lawn in front are palm-trees standing
  • erect here and there, like sentinels. The Consular Office, a small
  • building by itself, is inclosed by the same picket which fences in the
  • lawn.
  • We found the office closed; but, in the verandah of the
  • dwelling-house, was a lady performing a tonsorial operation on the
  • head of a prim-looking, elderly European, in a low, white
  • cravat;--the most domestic little scene I had witnessed since leaving
  • home. Bent upon an interview with Wilson, the sailors now deputed the
  • doctor to step forward as a polite inquirer after his health.
  • The pair stared very hard as he advanced; but no ways disconcerted, he
  • saluted them gravely, and inquired for the consul.
  • Upon being informed that he had gone down to the beach, we proceeded
  • in that direction; and soon met a native, who told us that, apprised
  • of our vicinity, Wilson was keeping out of the way. We resolved to
  • meet him; and passing through the village, he suddenly came walking
  • toward us; having apparently made up his mind that any attempt to
  • elude us would be useless.
  • "What do you want of me, you rascals?" he cried--a greeting which
  • provoked a retort in no measured terms. At this juncture, the natives
  • began to crowd round, and several foreigners strolled along. Caught
  • in the very act of speaking to such disreputable acquaintances,
  • Wilson now fidgeted, and moved rapidly toward his office; the men
  • following. Turning upon them incensed, he bade them be off--he would
  • have nothing more to say to us; and then, hurriedly addressing Captain
  • Bob in Tahitian, he hastened on, and never stopped till the postern
  • of Pritchard's wicket was closed behind him.
  • Our good old keeper was now highly excited, bustling about in his huge
  • petticoats, and conjuring us to return to the Calabooza. After a
  • little debate, we acquiesced.
  • This interview was decisive. Sensible that none of the charges brought
  • against us would stand, yet unwilling formally to withdraw them, the
  • consul now wished to get rid of us altogether; but without being
  • suspected of encouraging our escape. Thus only could we account for
  • his conduct.
  • Some of the party, however, with a devotion to principle truly heroic,
  • swore they would never leave him, happen what might. For my own part,
  • I began to long for a change; and as there seemed to be no getting
  • away in a ship, I resolved to hit upon some other expedient. But
  • first, I cast about for a comrade; and of course the long doctor was
  • chosen. We at once laid our heads together; and for the present,
  • resolved to disclose nothing to the rest.
  • A few days previous, I had fallen in with a couple of Yankee lads,
  • twins, who, originally deserting their ship at Tanning's Island (an
  • uninhabited spot, but exceedingly prolific in fruit of all kinds),
  • had, after a long residence there, roved about among the Society
  • group. They were last from Imeeo--the island immediately
  • adjoining--where they had been in the employ of two foreigners who had
  • recently started a plantation there. These persons, they said, had
  • charged them to send over from Papeetee, if they could, two white men
  • for field-labourers.
  • Now, all but the prospect of digging and delving suited us exactly;
  • but the opportunity for leaving the island was not to be slighted;
  • and so we held ourselves in readiness to return with the planters;
  • who, in a day or two, were expected to visit Papeetee in their boat.
  • At the interview which ensued, we were introduced to them as Peter and
  • Paul; and they agreed to give Peter and Paul fifteen silver dollars a
  • month, promising something more should we remain with them
  • permanently. What they wanted was men who would stay. To elude the
  • natives--many of whom, not exactly understanding our relations with
  • the consul, might arrest us, were they to see us departing--the
  • coming midnight was appointed for that purpose.
  • When the hour drew nigh, we disclosed our intention to the rest. Some
  • upbraided us for deserting them; others applauded, and said that, on
  • the first opportunity, they would follow our example. At last, we
  • bade them farewell. And there would now be a serene sadness in
  • thinking over the scene--since we never saw them again--had not all
  • been dashed by M'Gee's picking the doctor's pocket of a jack-knife, in
  • the very act of embracing him.
  • We stole down to the beach, where, under the shadow of a grove, the
  • boat was waiting. After some delay, we shipped the oars, and pulling
  • outside of the reef, set the sail; and with a fair wind, glided away
  • for Imeeo.
  • It was a pleasant trip. The moon was up--the air, warm--the waves,
  • musical--and all above was the tropical night, one purple vault hung
  • round with soft, trembling stars.
  • The channel is some five leagues wide. On one hand, you have the three
  • great peaks of Tahiti lording it over ranges of mountains and
  • valleys; and on the other, the equally romantic elevations of Imeeo,
  • high above which a lone peak, called by our companions, "the
  • Marling-pike," shot up its verdant spire.
  • The planters were quite sociable. They had been sea-faring men, and
  • this, of course, was a bond between us. To strengthen it, a flask of
  • wine was produced, one of several which had been procured in person
  • from the French admiral's steward; for whom the planters, when on a
  • former visit to Papeetee, had done a good turn, by introducing the
  • amorous Frenchman to the ladies ashore. Besides this, they had a
  • calabash filled with wild boar's meat, baked yams, bread-fruit, and
  • Tombez potatoes. Pipes and tobacco also were produced; and while
  • regaling ourselves, plenty of stories were told about the
  • neighbouring islands.
  • At last we heard the roar of the Imeeo reef; and gliding through a
  • break, floated over the expanse within, which was smooth as a young
  • girl's brow, and beached the boat.
  • CHAPTER LII.
  • THE VALLEY OF MARTAIR
  • WE went up through groves to an open space, where we heard voices, and
  • a light was seen glimmering from out a bamboo dwelling. It was the
  • planters' retreat; and in their absence, several girls were keeping
  • house, assisted by an old native, who, wrapped up in tappa, lay in
  • the corner, smoking.
  • A hasty meal was prepared, and after it we essayed a nap; but, alas! a
  • plague, little anticipated, prevented. Unknown in Tahiti, the
  • mosquitoes here fairly eddied round us. But more of them anon.
  • We were up betimes, and strolled out to view the country. We were in
  • the valley of Martair; shut in, on both sides, by lofty hills. Here
  • and there were steep cliffs, gay with flowering shrubs, or hung with
  • pendulous vines, swinging blossoms in the air. Of considerable width
  • at the sea, the vale contracts as it runs inland; terminating, at the
  • distance of several miles, in a range of the most grotesque
  • elevations, which seem embattled with turrets and towers, grown over
  • with verdure, and waving with trees. The valley itself is a
  • wilderness of woodland; with links of streams flashing through, and
  • narrow pathways fairly tunnelled through masses of foliage.
  • All alone, in this wild place, was the abode of the planters; the only
  • one back from the beach--their sole neighbours, the few fishermen and
  • their families, dwelling in a small grove of cocoa-nut trees whose
  • roots were washed by the sea.
  • The cleared tract which they occupied comprised some thirty acres,
  • level as a prairie, part of which was under cultivation; the whole
  • being fenced in by a stout palisade of trunks and boughs of trees
  • staked firmly in the ground. This was necessary as a defence against
  • the wild cattle and hogs overrunning the island.
  • Thus far, Tombez potatoes were the principal crop raised; a ready sale
  • for them being obtained among the shipping touching at Papeetee.
  • There was a small patch of the taro, or Indian turnip, also; another
  • of yams; and in one corner, a thrifty growth of the sugar-cane, just
  • ripening.
  • On the side of the inclosure next the sea was the house; newly built
  • of bamboos, in the native style. The furniture consisted of a couple
  • of sea-chests, an old box, a few cooking utensils, and agricultural
  • tools; together with three fowling-pieces, hanging from a rafter; and
  • two enormous hammocks swinging in opposite corners, and composed of
  • dried bullocks' hides, stretched out with poles.
  • The whole plantation was shut in by a dense forest; and, close by the
  • house, a dwarfed "Aoa," or species of banian-tree, had purposely been
  • left twisting over the palisade, in the most grotesque manner, and
  • thus made a pleasant shade. The branches of this curious tree
  • afforded low perches, upon which the natives frequently squatted,
  • after the fashion of their race, and smoked and gossiped by the hour.
  • We had a good breakfast of fish--speared by the natives, before
  • sunrise, on the reef--pudding of Indian turnip, fried bananas, and
  • roasted bread-fruit.
  • During the repast, our new friends were quite sociable and
  • communicative. It seems that, like nearly all uneducated foreigners,
  • residing in Polynesia, they had, some time previous, deserted from a
  • ship; and, having heard a good deal about the money to be made by
  • raising supplies for whaling-vessels, they determined upon embarking
  • in the business. Strolling about, with this intention, they, at last,
  • came to Martair; and, thinking the soil would suit, set themselves to
  • work. They began by finding out the owner of the particular spot
  • coveted, and then making a "tayo" of him.
  • He turned out to be Tonoi, the chief of the fishermen: who, one day,
  • when exhilarated with brandy, tore his meagre tappa from his loins,
  • and gave me to know that he was allied by blood with Pomaree herself;
  • and that his mother came from the illustrious race of pontiffs, who,
  • in old times, swayed their bamboo crosier over all the pagans of
  • Imeeo. A regal, and right reverend lineage! But, at the time I speak
  • of, the dusky noble was in decayed circumstances, and, therefore, by
  • no means unwilling to alienate a few useless acres. As an equivalent,
  • he received from the strangers two or three rheumatic old muskets,
  • several red woollen shirts, and a promise to be provided for in his
  • old age: he was always to find a home with the planters.
  • Desirous of living on the cosy footing of a father-in-law, he frankly
  • offered his two daughters for wives; but as such, they were politely
  • declined; the adventurers, though not averse to courting, being
  • unwilling to entangle themselves in a matrimonial alliance, however
  • splendid in point of family.
  • Tonoi's men, the fishermen of the grove, were a sad set. Secluded, in
  • a great measure, from the ministrations of the missionaries, they
  • gave themselves up to all manner of lazy wickedness. Strolling among
  • the trees of a morning, you came upon them napping on the shady side
  • of a canoe hauled up among the bushes; lying on a tree smoking; or,
  • more frequently still, gambling with pebbles; though, a little
  • tobacco excepted, what they gambled for at their outlandish games, it
  • would be hard to tell. Other idle diversions they had also, in which
  • they seemed to take great delight. As for fishing, it employed but a
  • small part of their time. Upon the whole, they were a merry,
  • indigent, godless race.
  • Tonoi, the old sinner, leaning against the fallen trunk of a cocoa-nut
  • tree, invariably squandered his mornings at pebbles; a gray-headed
  • rook of a native regularly plucking him of every other stick of
  • tobacco obtained from his friends, the planters. Toward afternoon,
  • he strolled back to their abode; where he tarried till the next
  • morning, smoking and snoozing, and, at times, prating about the
  • hapless fortunes of the House of Tonoi. But like any other easy-going
  • old dotard, he seemed for the most part perfectly content with
  • cheerful board and lodging.
  • On the whole, the valley of Martair was the quietest place imaginable.
  • Could the mosquitoes be induced to emigrate, one might spend the
  • month of August there quite pleasantly. But this was not the case
  • with the luckless Long Ghost and myself; as will presently be seen.
  • CHAPTER LIII.
  • FARMING IN POLYNESIA
  • THE planters were both whole-souled fellows; but, in other respects,
  • as unlike as possible.
  • One was a tall, robust Yankee, born in the backwoods of Maine, sallow,
  • and with a long face;--the other was a short little Cockney, who had
  • first clapped his eyes on the Monument.
  • The voice of Zeke, the Yankee, had a twang like a cracked viol; and
  • Shorty (as his comrade called him), clipped the aspirate from every
  • word beginning with one. The latter, though not the tallest man in
  • the world, was a good-looking young fellow of twenty-five. His cheeks
  • were dyed with the fine Saxon red, burned deeper from his roving
  • life: his blue eye opened well, and a profusion of fair hair curled
  • over a well-shaped head.
  • But Zeke was no beauty. A strong, ugly man, he was well adapted for
  • manual labour; and that was all. His eyes were made to see with, and
  • not for ogling. Compared with the Cockney, he was grave, and rather
  • taciturn; but there was a deal of good old humour bottled up in him,
  • after all. For the rest, he was frank, good-hearted, shrewd, and
  • resolute; and like Shorty, quite illiterate.
  • Though a curious conjunction, the pair got along together famously.
  • But, as no two men were ever united in any enterprise without one
  • getting the upper hand of the other, so in most matters Zeke had his
  • own way. Shorty, too, had imbibed from him a spirit of invincible
  • industry; and Heaven only knows what ideas of making a fortune on
  • their plantation.
  • We were much concerned at this; for the prospect of their setting us,
  • in their own persons, an example of downright hard labour, was
  • anything but agreeable. But it was now too late to repent what we had
  • done.
  • The first day--thank fortune--we did nothing. Having treated us as
  • guests thus far, they no doubt thought it would be wanting in
  • delicacy to set us to work before the compliments of the occasion
  • were well over. The next morning, however, they both looked
  • business-like, and we were put to.
  • "Wall, b'ys" (boys), said Zeke, knocking the ashes out of his pipe,
  • after breakfast--"we must get at it. Shorty, give Peter there (the
  • doctor), the big hoe, and Paul the other, and let's be off." Going to
  • a corner, Shorty brought forth three of the implements; and
  • distributing them impartially, trudged on after his partner, who took
  • the lead with something in the shape of an axe.
  • For a moment left alone in the house, we looked at each other,
  • quaking. We were each equipped with a great, clumsy piece of a tree,
  • armed at one end with a heavy, flat mass of iron.
  • The cutlery part--especially adapted to a primitive soil--was an
  • importation from Sydney; the handles must have been of domestic
  • manufacture. "Hoes"--so called--we had heard of, and seen; but they
  • were harmless in comparison with the tools in our hands.
  • "What's to be done with them?" inquired I of Peter.
  • "Lift them up and down," he replied; "or put them in motion some way
  • or other. Paul, we are in a scrape--but hark! they are calling;" and
  • shouldering the hoes, off we marched.'
  • Our destination was the farther side of the plantation, where the
  • ground, cleared in part, had not yet been broken up; but they were
  • now setting about it. Upon halting, I asked why a plough was not
  • used; some of the young wild steers might be caught and trained for
  • draught.
  • Zeke replied that, for such a purpose, no cattle, to his knowledge,
  • had ever been used in any part of Polynesia. As for the soil of
  • Martair, so obstructed was it with roots, crossing and recrossing
  • each other at all points, that no kind of a plough could be used to
  • advantage. The heavy Sydney hoes were the only thing for such land.
  • Our work was now before us; but, previous to commencing operations, I
  • endeavoured to engage the Yankee in a little further friendly chat
  • concerning the nature of virgin soils in general, and that of the
  • valley of Martair in particular. So masterly a stratagem made Long
  • Ghost brighten up; and he stood by ready to join in. But what our
  • friend had to say about agriculture all referred to the particular
  • part of his plantation upon which we stood; and having communicated
  • enough on this head to enable us to set to work to the best
  • advantage, he fell to, himself; and Shorty, who had been looking on,
  • followed suit.
  • The surface, here and there, presented closely amputated branches of
  • what had once been a dense thicket. They seemed purposely left
  • projecting, as if to furnish a handle whereby to drag out the roots
  • beneath. After loosening the hard soil, by dint of much thumping and
  • pounding, the Yankee jerked one of the roots this way and that,
  • twisting it round and round, and then tugging at it horizontally.
  • "Come! lend us a hand!" he cried, at last; and running up, we all four
  • strained away in concert. The tough obstacle convulsed the surface
  • with throes and spasms; but stuck fast, notwithstanding.
  • "Dumn it!" cried Zeke, "we'll have to get a rope; run to the house,
  • Shorty, and fetch one."
  • The end of this being attached, we took plenty of room, and strained
  • away once more.
  • "Give us a song, Shorty," said the doctor; who was rather sociable, on
  • a short acquaintance. Where the work to be accomplished is any way
  • difficult, this mode of enlivening toil is quite efficacious among
  • sailors. So willing to make everything as cheerful as possible,
  • Shorty struck up, "Were you ever in Dumbarton?" a marvellously
  • inspiring, but somewhat indecorous windlass chorus.
  • At last, the Yankee cast a damper on his enthusiasm by exclaiming, in
  • a pet, "Oh! dumn your singing! keep quiet, and pull away!" This we
  • now did, in the most uninteresting silence; until, with a jerk that
  • made every elbow hum, the root dragged out; and most inelegantly, we
  • all landed upon the ground. The doctor, quite exhausted, stayed
  • there; and, deluded into believing that, after so doughty a
  • performance, we would be allowed a cessation of toil, took off his
  • hat, and fanned himself.
  • "Rayther a hard customer, that, Peter," observed the Yankee, going up
  • to him: "but it's no use for any on 'em to hang back; for I'm dumned
  • if they hain't got to come out, whether or no. Hurrah! let's get at
  • it agin!"
  • "Mercy!" ejaculated the doctor, rising slowly, and turning round.
  • "He'll be the death of us!"
  • Falling to with our hoes again, we worked singly, or together, as
  • occasion required, until "Nooning Time" came.
  • The period, so called by the planters, embraced about three hours in
  • the middle of the day; during which it was so excessively hot, in
  • this still, brooding valley, shut out from the Trades, and only open
  • toward the leeward side of the island, that labour in the sun was out
  • of the question. To use a hyperbolical phrase of Shorty's, "It was
  • 'ot enough to melt the nose h'off a brass monkey."
  • Returning to the house, Shorty, assisted by old Tonoi, cooked the
  • dinner; and, after we had all partaken thereof, both the Cockney and
  • Zeke threw themselves into one of the hammocks, inviting us to occupy
  • the other. Thinking it no bad idea, we did so; and, after skirmishing
  • with the mosquitoes, managed to fall into a doze. As for the
  • planters, more accustomed to "Nooning," they, at once, presented a
  • nuptial back to each other; and were soon snoring away at a great
  • rate. Tonoi snoozed on a mat, in one corner.
  • At last, we were roused by Zeke's crying out, "Up b'ys; up! rise, and
  • shine; time to get at it agin!"
  • Looking at the doctor, I perceived, very plainly, that he had decided
  • upon something.
  • In a languid voice, he told Zeke that he was not very well: indeed,
  • that he had not been himself for some time past; though a little
  • rest, no doubt, would recruit him. The Yankee thinking, from this,
  • that our valuable services might be lost to him altogether, were he
  • too hard upon us at the outset, at once begged us both to consult our
  • own feelings, and not exert ourselves for the present, unless we felt
  • like it. Then--without recognizing the fact that my comrade claimed
  • to be actually unwell--he simply suggested that, since he was so
  • tired, he had better, perhaps, swing in his hammock for the rest of
  • the day. If agreeable, however, I myself might accompany him upon a
  • little bullock-hunting excursion in the neighbouring hills. In this
  • proposition, I gladly acquiesced; though Peter, who was a great
  • sportsman, put on a long face. The muskets and ammunition were
  • forthwith got from overhead; and, everything being then ready, Zeke
  • cried out, "Tonoi! come; aramai! (get up) we want you for pilot.
  • Shorty, my lad, look arter things, you know; and if you likes, why,
  • there's them roots in the field yonder."
  • Having thus arranged his domestic affairs to please himself, though
  • little to Shorty's satisfaction, I thought, he slung his powder-horn
  • over his shoulder, and we started. Tonoi was, at once, sent on in
  • advance; and leaving the plantation, he struck into a path which led
  • toward the mountains.
  • After hurrying through the thickets for some time, we came out into
  • the sunlight, in an open glade, just under the shadow of the hills.
  • Here, Zeke pointed aloft to a beetling crag far distant, where a
  • bullock, with horns thrown back, stood like a statue.
  • CHAPTER LIV.
  • SOME ACCOUNT OF THE WILD CATTLE IN POLYNESIA
  • BEFORE we proceed further, a word or two concerning these wild cattle,
  • and the way they came on the island.
  • Some fifty years ago, Vancouver left several bullocks, sheep and
  • goats, at various places in the Society group. He instructed the
  • natives to look after the animals carefully; and by no means to
  • slaughter any until a considerable stock had accumulated.
  • The sheep must have died off: for I never saw a solitary fleece in any
  • part of Polynesia. The pair left were an ill-assorted couple,
  • perhaps; separated in disgust, and died without issue.
  • As for the goats, occasionally you come across a black, misanthropic
  • ram, nibbling the scant herbage of some height inaccessible to man,
  • in preference to the sweet grasses of the valley below. The goats are
  • not very numerous.
  • The bullocks, coming of a prolific ancestry, are a hearty set, racing
  • over the island of Imeeo in considerable numbers, though in Tahiti
  • but few of them are seen. At the former place, the original pair must
  • have scampered off to the interior since it is now so thickly
  • populated by their wild progeny. The herds are the private property
  • of Queen Pomaree; from whom the planters had obtained permission to
  • shoot for their own use as many as they pleased.
  • The natives stand in great awe of these cattle; and for this reason
  • are excessively timid in crossing the island, preferring rather to
  • sail round to an opposite village in their canoes.
  • Tonoi abounded in bullock stories; most of which, by the bye, had a
  • spice of the marvellous. The following is one of these.
  • Once upon a time, he was going over the hills with a brother--now no
  • more--when a great bull came bellowing out of a wood, and both took
  • to their heels. The old chief sprang into a tree; his companion,
  • flying in an opposite direction, was pursued, and, in the very act of
  • reaching up to a bough, trampled underfoot. The unhappy man was then
  • gored--tossed in the air--and finally run away with on the bull's
  • horns. More dead than alive, Tonoi waited till all was over, and then
  • made the best of his way home. The neighbours, armed with two or
  • three muskets, at once started to recover, if possible, his
  • unfortunate brother's remains. At nightfall, they returned without
  • discovering any trace of him; but the next morning, Tonoi himself
  • caught a glimpse of the bullock, marching across the mountain's brow,
  • with a long dark object borne aloft on his horns.
  • Having referred to Vancouver's attempts to colonize the islands with
  • useful quadrupeds, we may as well say something concerning his
  • success upon Hawaii, one of the largest islands in the whole
  • Polynesian Archipelago; and which gives the native name to the
  • well-known cluster named by Cook in honour of Lord Sandwich.
  • Hawaii is some one hundred leagues in circuit, and covers an area of
  • over four thousand miles. Until within a few years past, its interior
  • was almost unknown, even to the inhabitants themselves, who, for
  • ages, had been prevented from wandering thither by certain strange
  • superstitions. Pelee, the terrific goddess of the volcanoes Mount Eoa
  • and Mount Kea, was supposed to guard all the passes to the extensive
  • valleys lying round their base. There are legends of her having chased
  • with streams of fire several impious adventurers. Near Hilo, a
  • jet-black cliff is shown, with the vitreous torrent apparently
  • pouring over into the sea: just as it cooled after one of these
  • supernatural eruptions.
  • To these inland valleys, and the adjoining hillsides, which are
  • clothed in the most luxuriant vegetation, Vancouver's bullocks soon
  • wandered; and unmolested for a long period, multiplied in vast herds.
  • Some twelve or fifteen years ago, the natives lost sight of their
  • superstitions, and learning the value of the hides in commerce, began
  • hunting the creatures that wore them; but being very fearful and
  • awkward in a business so novel, their success was small; and it was
  • not until the arrival of a party of Spanish hunters, men regularly
  • trained to their calling upon the plains of California, that the work
  • of slaughter was fairly begun.
  • The Spaniards were showy fellows, tricked out in gay blankets,
  • leggings worked with porcupine quills, and jingling spurs. Mounted
  • upon trained Indian mares, these heroes pursued their prey up to the
  • very base of the burning mountains; making the profoundest solitudes
  • ring with their shouts, and flinging the lasso under the very nose of
  • the vixen goddess Pelee. Hilo, a village upon the coast, was their
  • place of resort; and thither flocked roving whites from all the
  • islands of the group. As pupils of the dashing Spaniards, many of
  • these dissipated fellows, quaffing too freely of the stirrup-cup, and
  • riding headlong after the herds, when they reeled in the saddle, were
  • unhorsed and killed.
  • This was about the year 1835, when the present king, Tammahamaha III.,
  • was a lad. With royal impudence laying claim to the sole property of
  • the cattle, he was delighted with the idea of receiving one of every
  • two silver dollars paid down for their hides; so, with no thought for
  • the future, the work of extermination went madly on. In three years'
  • time, eighteen thousand bullocks were slain, almost entirely upon the
  • single island of Hawaii.
  • The herds being thus nearly destroyed, the sagacious young prince
  • imposed a rigorous "taboo" upon the few surviving cattle, which was
  • to remain in force for ten years. During this period--not yet
  • expired--all hunting is forbidden, unless directly authorized by the
  • king.
  • The massacre of the cattle extended to the hapless goats. In one year,
  • three thousand of their skins were sold to the merchants of Honolulu,
  • fetching a quartila, or a shilling sterling apiece.
  • After this digression, it is time to run on after Tonoi and the
  • Yankee.
  • CHAPTER LV.
  • A HUNTING RAMBLE WITH ZEKE
  • AT THE foot of the mountain, a steep path went up among rocks and
  • clefts mantled with verdure. Here and there were green gulfs, down
  • which it made one giddy to peep. At last we gained an overhanging,
  • wooded shelf of land which crowned the heights; and along this, the
  • path, well shaded, ran like a gallery.
  • In every direction the scenery was enchanting. There was a low,
  • rustling breeze; and below, in the vale, the leaves were quivering;
  • the sea lay, blue and serene, in the distance; and inland the surface
  • swelled up, ridge after ridge, and peak upon peak, all bathed in the
  • Indian haze of the Tropics, and dreamy to look upon. Still valleys,
  • leagues away, reposed in the deep shadows of the mountains; and here
  • and there, waterfalls lifted up their voices in the solitude. High
  • above all, and central, the "Marling-spike" lifted its finger. Upon
  • the hillsides, small groups of bullocks were seen; some quietly
  • browsing; others slowly winding into the valleys.
  • We went on, directing our course for a slope of these hills, a mile or
  • two further, where the nearest bullocks were seen.
  • We were cautious in keeping to the windward of them; their sense of
  • smell and hearing being, like those of all wild creatures,
  • exceedingly acute.
  • As there was no knowing that we might not surprise some other kind of
  • game in the coverts through which we were passing, we crept along
  • warily.
  • The wild hogs of the island are uncommonly fierce; and as they often
  • attack the natives, I could not help following Tonoi's example of
  • once in a while peeping in under the foliage. Frequent retrospective
  • glances also served to assure me that our retreat was not cut off.
  • As we rounded a clump of bushes, a noise behind them, like the
  • crackling of dry branches, broke the stillness. In an instant,
  • Tonoi's hand was on a bough, ready for a spring, and Zeke's finger
  • touched the trigger of his piece. Again the stillness was broken; and
  • thinking it high time to get ready, I brought my musket to my
  • shoulder.
  • "Look sharp!" cried the Yankee; and dropping on one knee, he brushed
  • the twigs aside. Presently, off went his piece; and with a wild
  • snort, a black, bristling boar--his cherry red lip curled up by two
  • glittering tusks--dashed, unharmed, across the path, and crashed
  • through the opposite thicket. I saluted him with a charge as he
  • disappeared; but not the slightest notice was taken of the civility.
  • By this time, Tonoi, the illustrious descendant of the Bishops of
  • Imeeo, was twenty feet from the ground. "Aramai! come down, you old
  • fool!" cried the Yankee; "the pesky critter's on t'other side of the
  • island afore this."
  • "I rayther guess," he continued, as we began reloading, "that we've
  • spoiled sport by firing at that 'ere tarnal hog. Them bullocks heard
  • the racket, and are flinging their tails about now on the keen jump.
  • Quick, Paul, and let's climb that rock yonder, and see if so be
  • there's any in sight."
  • But none were to be seen, except at such a distance that they looked
  • like ants.
  • As evening was now at hand, my companion proposed our returning home
  • forthwith; and then, after a sound night's rest, starting in the
  • morning upon a good day's hunt with the whole force of the
  • plantation.
  • Following another pass in descending into the valley, we passed
  • through some nobly wooded land on the face of the mountain.
  • One variety of tree particularly attracted my attention. The dark
  • mossy stem, over seventy feet high, was perfectly branchless for many
  • feet above the ground, when it shot out in broad boughs laden with
  • lustrous leaves of the deepest green. And all round the lower part of
  • the trunk, thin, slab-like buttresses of bark, perfectly smooth, and
  • radiating from a common centre, projected along the ground for at
  • least two yards. From below, these natural props tapered upward until
  • gradually blended with the trunk itself. There were signs of the wild
  • cattle having sheltered themselves behind them. Zeke called this the
  • canoe tree; as in old times it supplied the navies of the Kings of
  • Tahiti. For canoe building, the woods is still used. Being extremely
  • dense, and impervious to worms, it is very durable.
  • Emerging from the forest, when half-way down the hillside, we came
  • upon an open space, covered with ferns and grass, over which a few
  • lonely trees were casting long shadows in the setting sun. Here, a
  • piece of ground some hundred feet square, covered with weeds and
  • brambles, and sounding hollow to the tread, was inclosed by a ruinous
  • wall of stones. Tonoi said it was an almost forgotten burial-place, of
  • great antiquity, where no one had been interred since the islanders
  • had been Christians. Sealed up in dry, deep vaults, many a dead
  • heathen was lying here.
  • Curious to prove the old man's statement, I was anxious to get a peep
  • at the catacombs; but hermetically overgrown with vegetation as they
  • were, no aperture was visible.
  • Before gaining the level of the valley, we passed by the site of a
  • village, near a watercourse, long since deserted. There was nothing
  • but stone walls, and rude dismantled foundations of houses,
  • constructed of the same material. Large trees and brushwood were
  • growing rankly among them.
  • I asked Tonoi how long it was since anyone had lived here. "Me,
  • tammaree (boy)--plenty kannaker (men) Martair," he replied. "Now,
  • only poor pehe kannaka (fishermen) left--me born here."
  • Going down the valley, vegetation of every kind presented a different
  • aspect from that of the high land.
  • Chief among the trees of the plain on this island is the "Ati," large
  • and lofty, with a massive trunk, and broad, laurel-shaped leaves. The
  • wood is splendid. In Tahiti, I was shown a narrow, polished plank fit
  • to make a cabinet for a king. Taken from the heart of the tree, it
  • was of a deep, rich scarlet, traced with yellow veins, and in some
  • places clouded with hazel.
  • In the same grove with the regal "AH" you may see the beautiful
  • flowering "Hotoo"; its pyramid of shining leaves diversified with
  • numberless small, white blossoms.
  • Planted with trees as the valley is almost throughout its entire
  • length, I was astonished to observe so very few which were useful to
  • the natives: not one in a hundred was a cocoa-nut or bread-fruit
  • tree.
  • But here Tonoi again enlightened me. In the sanguinary religious
  • hostilities which ensued upon the conversion of Christianity of the
  • first Pomaree, a war-party from Tahiti destroyed (by "girdling" the
  • bark) entire groves of these invaluable trees. For some time
  • afterwards they stood stark and leafless in the sun; sad monuments of
  • the fate which befell the inhabitants of the valley.
  • CHAPTER LVI.
  • MOSQUITOES
  • THE NIGHT following the hunting trip, Long Ghost and myself, after a
  • valiant defence, had to fly the house on account of the mosquitoes.
  • And here I cannot avoid relating a story, rife among the natives,
  • concerning the manner in which these insects were introduced upon the
  • island.
  • Some years previous, a whaling captain, touching at an adjoining bay,
  • got into difficulty with its inhabitants, and at last carried his
  • complaint before one of the native tribunals; but receiving no
  • satisfaction, and deeming himself aggrieved, he resolved upon taking
  • signal revenge. One night, he towed a rotten old water-cask ashore,
  • and left it in a neglected Taro patch where the ground was warm and
  • moist. Hence the mosquitoes.
  • I tried my best to learn the name of this man; and hereby do what I
  • can to hand it down to posterity. It was Coleman--Nathan Cole-man.
  • The ship belonged to Nantucket.
  • When tormented by the mosquitoes, I found much relief in coupling the
  • word "Coleman" with another of one syllable, and pronouncing them
  • together energetically.
  • The doctor suggested a walk to the beach, where there was a long, low
  • shed tumbling to pieces, but open lengthwise to a current of air
  • which he thought might keep off the mosquitoes. So thither we went.
  • The ruin partially sheltered a relic of times gone by, which, a few
  • days after, we examined with much curiosity. It was an old war-canoe,
  • crumbling to dust. Being supported by the same rude blocks upon
  • which, apparently, it had years before been hollowed out, in all
  • probability it had never been afloat.
  • Outside, it seemed originally stained of a green colour, which, here
  • and there, was now changed into a dingy purple. The prow terminated
  • in a high, blunt beak; both sides were covered with carving; and upon
  • the stern, was something which Long Ghost maintained to be the arms
  • of the royal House of Pomaree. The device had an heraldic look,
  • certainly--being two sharks with the talons of hawks clawing a knot
  • left projecting from the wood.
  • The canoe was at least forty feet long, about two wide, and four deep.
  • The upper part--consisting of narrow planks laced together with cords
  • of sinnate--had in many places fallen off, and lay decaying upon the
  • ground. Still, there were ample accommodations left for sleeping; and
  • in we sprang--the doctor into the bow, and I into the stern. I soon
  • fell asleep; but waking suddenly, cramped in every joint from my
  • constrained posture, I thought, for an instant, that I must have been
  • prematurely screwed down in my coffin.
  • Presenting my compliments to Long Ghost, I asked how it fared with
  • him.
  • "Bad enough," he replied, as he tossed about in the outlandish rubbish
  • lying in the bottom of our couch. "Pah! how these old mats smell!"
  • As he continued talking in this exciting strain for some time, I at
  • last made no reply, having resumed certain mathematical reveries to
  • induce repose. But finding the multiplication table of no avail, I
  • summoned up a grayish image of chaos in a sort of sliding fluidity,
  • and was just falling into a nap on the strength of it, when I heard a
  • solitary and distinct buzz. The hour of my calamity was at hand. One
  • blended hum, the creature darted into the canoe like a small
  • swordfish; and I out of it.
  • Upon getting into the open air, to my surprise, there was Long Ghost,
  • fanning himself wildly with an old paddle. He had just made a
  • noiseless escape from a swarm which had attacked his own end of the
  • canoe.
  • It was now proposed to try the water; so a small fishing canoe, hauled
  • up near by, was quickly launched; and paddling a good distance off,
  • we dropped overboard the native contrivance for an anchor--a heavy
  • stone, attached to a cable of braided bark. At this part of the
  • island the encircling reef was close to the shore, leaving the water
  • within smooth, and extremely shallow.
  • It was a blessed thought! We knew nothing till sunrise, when the
  • motion of our aquatic cot awakened us. I looked up, and beheld Zeke
  • wading toward the shore, and towing us after him by the bark cable.
  • Pointing to the reef, he told us we had had a narrow escape.
  • It was true enough; the water-sprites had rolled our stone out of its
  • noose, and we had floated away.
  • CHAPTER LVII.
  • THE SECOND HUNT IN THE MOUNTAINS
  • FAIR dawned, over the hills of Martair, the jocund morning of our
  • hunt.
  • Everything had been prepared for it overnight; and, when we arrived at
  • the house, a good breakfast was spread by Shorty: and old Tonoi was
  • bustling about like an innkeeper. Several of his men, also, were in
  • attendance to accompany us with calabashes of food; and, in case we
  • met with any success, to officiate as bearers of burdens on our
  • return.
  • Apprised, the evening previous, of the meditated sport, the doctor had
  • announced his willingness to take part therein.
  • Now, subsequent events made us regard this expedition as a shrewd
  • device of the Yankee's. Once get us off on a pleasure trip, and with
  • what face could we afterward refuse to work? Beside, he enjoyed all
  • the credit of giving us a holiday. Nor did he omit assuring us that,
  • work or play, our wages were all the while running on.
  • A dilapidated old musket of Tonoi's was borrowed for the doctor. It
  • was exceedingly short and heavy, with a clumsy lock, which required a
  • strong finger to pull the trigger. On trying the piece by firing at
  • a mark, Long Ghost was satisfied that it could not fail of doing
  • execution: the charge went one way, and he the other.
  • Upon this, he endeavoured to negotiate an exchange of muskets with
  • Shorty; but the Cockney was proof against his blandishments; at last,
  • he intrusted his weapon to one of the natives to carry for him.
  • Marshalling our forces, we started for the head of the valley; near
  • which a path ascended to a range of high land, said to be a favourite
  • resort of the cattle.
  • Shortly after gaining the heights, a small herd, some way off, was
  • perceived entering a wood. We hurried on; and, dividing our party,
  • went in after them at four different points; each white man followed
  • by several natives.
  • I soon found myself in a dense covert; and, after looking round, was
  • just emerging into a clear space, when I heard a report, and a bullet
  • knocked the bark from a tree near by. The same instant there was a
  • trampling and crashing; and five bullocks, nearly abreast, broke into
  • View across the opening, and plunged right toward the spot where
  • myself and three of the islanders were standing.
  • They were small, black, vicious-looking creatures; with short, sharp
  • horns, red nostrils, and eyes like coals of fire. On they came--their
  • dark woolly heads hanging down.
  • By this time my island backers were roosting among the trees. Glancing
  • round, for an instant, to discover a retreat in case of emergency, I
  • raised my piece, when a voice cried out, from the wood, "Right
  • between the 'orns, Paul! right between the 'orns!" Down went my
  • barrel in range with a small white tuft on the forehead of the
  • headmost one; and, letting him have it, I darted to one side. As I
  • turned again, the five bullocks shot by like a blast, making the air
  • eddy in their wake.
  • The Yankee now burst into view, and saluted them in flank. Whereupon,
  • the fierce little bull with the tufted forehead flirted his long tail
  • over his buttocks; kicked out with his hind feet, and shot forward a
  • full length. It was nothing but a graze; and, in an instant, they
  • were out of sight, the thicket into which they broke rocking
  • overhead, and marking their progress.
  • The action over, the heavy artillery came up, in the person of the
  • Long Doctor with the blunderbuss.
  • "Where are they?" he cried, out of breath.
  • "A mile or two h'off, by this time," replied the Cockney. "Lord, Paul
  • I you ought to've sent an 'ailstone into that little black 'un."
  • While excusing my want of skill, as well as I could, Zeke, rushing
  • forward, suddenly exclaimed, "Creation! what are you 'bout there,
  • Peter?"
  • Peter, incensed at our ill luck, and ignorantly imputing it to the
  • cowardice of our native auxiliaries, was bringing his piece to bear
  • upon his trembling squire--the musket-carrier--now descending a tree.
  • Pulling trigger, the bullet went high over his head; and, hopping to
  • the ground, bellowing like a calf, the fellow ran away as fast as his
  • heels could carry him. The rest followed us, after this, with fear
  • and trembling.
  • After forming our line of march anew, we went on for several hours
  • without catching a glimpse of the game; the reports of the muskets
  • having been heard at a great distance. At last, we mounted a craggy
  • height, to obtain a wide view of the country. Prom this place, we
  • beheld three cattle quietly browsing in a green opening of a wood
  • below; the trees shutting them in all round.
  • A general re-examination of the muskets now took place, followed by a
  • hasty lunch from the calabashes: we then started. As we descended the
  • mountainside the cattle were in plain sight until we entered the
  • forest, when we lost sight of them for a moment; but only to see them
  • again, as we crept close up to the spot where they grazed.
  • They were a bull, a cow, and a calf. The cow was lying down in the
  • shade, by the edge of the wood; the calf, sprawling out before her in
  • the grass, licking her lips; while old Taurus himself stood close by,
  • casting a paternal glance at this domestic little scene, and
  • conjugally elevating his nose in the air.
  • "Now then," said Zeke, in a whisper, "let's take the poor creeturs while
  • they are huddled together. Crawl along, b'ys; crawl along. Fire
  • together, mind; and not till I say the word."
  • We crept up to the very edge of the open ground, and knelt behind a
  • clump of bushes; resting our levelled barrels among the branches. The
  • slight rustling was heard. Taurus turned round, dropped his head to
  • the ground, and sent forth a low, sullen bellow; then snuffed the
  • air. The cow rose on her foreknees, pitched forward alarmedly, and
  • stood upon her legs; while the calf, with ears pricked, got right
  • underneath her. All three were now grouped, and in an instant would be
  • off.
  • "I take the bull," cried our leader; "fire!"
  • The calf fell like a clod; its dam uttered a cry, and thrust her head
  • into the thicket; but she turned, and came moaning up to the lifeless
  • calf, going round and round it, snuffing fiercely with her bleeding
  • nostrils. A crashing in the wood, and a loud roar, announced the
  • flying bull.
  • Soon, another shot was fired, and the cow fell. Leaving some of the
  • natives to look after the dead cattle, the rest of us hurried on
  • after the bull; his dreadful bellowing guiding us to the spot where
  • he lay. Wounded in the shoulder, in his fright and agony he had
  • bounded into the wood; but when we came up to him, he had sunk to the
  • earth in a green hollow, thrusting his black muzzle into a pool of his
  • own blood, and tossing it over his hide in clots.
  • The Yankee brought his piece to a rest; and, the next instant, the
  • wild brute sprang into the air, and with his forelegs crouching under
  • him, fell dead.
  • Our island friends were now in high spirits; all courage and alacrity.
  • Old Tonoi thought nothing of taking poor Taurus himself by the horns,
  • and peering into his glazed eyes.
  • Our ship knives were at once in request; and, skinning the cattle, we
  • hung them high up by cords of bark from the boughs of a tree.
  • Withdrawing into a covert, we there waited for the wild hogs; which,
  • according to Zeke, would soon make their appearance, lured by the
  • smell of blood. Presently we heard them coming, in two or three
  • different directions; and, in a moment, they were tearing the offal to
  • pieces.
  • As only one shot at these creatures could be relied on, we intended
  • firing simultaneously; but, somehow or other, the doctor's piece went
  • off by itself, and one of the hogs dropped. The others then breaking
  • into the thicket, the rest of us sprang after them; resolved to have
  • another shot at all hazards.
  • The Cockney darted among some bushes; and, a few moments after, we
  • heard the report of his musket, followed by a quick cry. On running
  • up, we saw our comrade doing battle with a young devil of a boar, as
  • black as night, whose snout had been partly torn away. Firing when
  • the game was in full career, and coming directly toward him, Shorty
  • had been assailed by the enraged brute; it was now crunching the
  • breech of the musket, with which he had tried to club it; Shorty
  • holding fast to the barrel, and fingering his waist for a knife.
  • Being in advance of the others, I clapped my gun to the boar's head,
  • and so put an end to the contest.
  • Evening now coming on, we set to work loading our carriers. The cattle
  • were so small that a stout native could walk off with an entire
  • quarter; brushing through thickets, and descending rocks without an
  • apparent effort; though, to tell the truth, no white man present
  • could have done the thing with any ease. As for the wild hogs, none
  • of the islanders could be induced to carry Shorty's; some invincible
  • superstition being connected with its black colour. We were,
  • therefore, obliged to leave it. The other, a spotted one, being slung
  • by green thongs to a pole, was marched off with by two young natives.
  • With our bearers of burdens ahead, we then commenced our return down
  • the valley. Half-way home, darkness overtook us in the woods; and
  • torches became necessary. We stopped, and made them of dry palm
  • branches; and then, sending two lads on in advance for the purpose of
  • gathering fuel to feed the flambeaux, we continued our journey.
  • It was a wild sight. The torches, waved aloft, flashed through the
  • forest; and, where the ground admitted, the islanders went along on a
  • brisk trot, notwithstanding they bent forward under their loads.
  • Their naked backs were stained with blood; and occasionally, running
  • by each other, they raised wild cries which startled the hillsides.
  • CHAPTER LVIII.
  • THE HUNTING-FEAST; AND A VISIT TO AFREHITOO
  • TWO BULLOCKS and a boar! No bad trophies of our day's sport. So by
  • torchlight we marched into the plantation, the wild hog rocking from
  • its pole, and the doctor singing an old hunting-song--Tally-ho! the
  • chorus of which swelled high above the yells of the natives.
  • We resolved to make a night of it. Kindling a great fire just outside
  • the dwelling, and hanging one of the heifer's quarters from a limb of
  • the banian-tree, everyone was at liberty to cut and broil for
  • himself. Baskets of roasted bread-fruit, and plenty of taro pudding;
  • bunches of bananas, and young cocoa-nuts, had also been provided by
  • the natives against our return.
  • The fire burned bravely, keeping off the mosquitoes, and making every
  • man's face glow like a beaker of Port. The meat had the true
  • wild-game flavour, not at all impaired by our famous appetites, and a
  • couple of flasks of white brandy, which Zeke, producing from his
  • secret store, circulated freely.
  • There was no end to my long comrade's spirits. After telling his
  • stories, and singing his songs, he sprang to his feet, clasped a
  • young damsel of the grove round the waist, and waltzed over the grass
  • with her. But there's no telling all the pranks he played that night.
  • The natives, who delight in a wag, emphatically pronounced him
  • "maitai."
  • It was long after midnight ere we broke up; but when the rest had
  • retired, Zeke, with the true thrift of a Yankee, salted down what was
  • left of the meat.
  • The next day was Sunday; and at my request, Shorty accompanied me to
  • Afrehitoo--a neighbouring bay, and the seat of a mission, almost
  • directly opposite Papeetee. In Afrehitoo is a large church and
  • school-house, both quite dilapidated; and planted amid shrubbery on a
  • fine knoll, stands a very tasteful cottage, commanding a view across
  • the channel. In passing, I caught sight of a graceful calico skirt
  • disappearing from the piazza through a doorway. The place was the
  • residence of the missionary.
  • A trim little sail-boat was dancing out at her moorings, a few yards
  • from the beach.
  • Straggling over the low lands in the vicinity were several native
  • huts--untidy enough--but much better every way than most of those in
  • Tahiti.
  • We attended service at the church, where we found but a small
  • congregation; and after what I had seen in Papeetee, nothing very
  • interesting took place. But the audience had a curious, fidgety look,
  • which I knew not how to account for until we ascertained that a
  • sermon with the eighth commandment for a text was being preached.
  • It seemed that there lived an Englishman in the district, who, like
  • our friends, the planters, was cultivating Tombez potatoes for the
  • Papeetee market.
  • In spite of all his precautions, the natives were in the habit of
  • making nocturnal forays into his inclosure, and carrying off the
  • potatoes. One night he fired a fowling-piece, charged with pepper and
  • salt, at several shadows which he discovered stealing across his
  • premises. They fled. But it was like seasoning anything else; the
  • knaves stole again with a greater relish than ever; and the very next
  • night, he caught a party in the act of roasting a basketful of
  • potatoes under his own cooking-shed. At last, he stated his
  • grievances to the missionary; who, for the benefit of his
  • congregation, preached the sermon we heard.
  • Now, there were no thieves in Martair; but then, the people of the
  • valley were bribed to be honest. It was a regular business
  • transaction between them and the planters. In consideration of so
  • many potatoes "to them in hand, duly paid," they were to abstain from
  • all depredations upon the plantation. Another security against roguery
  • was the permanent residence upon the premises of their chief, Tonoi.
  • On our return to Martair in the afternoon, we found the doctor and
  • Zeke making themselves comfortable. The latter was reclining on the
  • ground, pipe in mouth, watching the doctor, who, sitting like a Turk,
  • before a large iron kettle, was slicing potatoes and Indian turnip,
  • and now and then shattering splinters from a bone; all of which, by
  • turns, were thrown into the pot. He was making what he called
  • "Bullock broth."
  • In gastronomic affairs, my friend was something of an artist; and by
  • way of improving his knowledge, did nothing the rest of the day but
  • practise in what might be called Experimental Cookery: broiling and
  • grilling, and deviling slices of meat, and subjecting them to all
  • sorts of igneous operations. It was the first fresh beef that either
  • of us had tasted in more than a year.
  • "Oh, ye'll pick up arter a while, Peter," observed Zeke toward night,
  • as Long Ghost was turning a great rib over the coals--"what d'ye
  • think, Paul?"
  • "He'll get along, I dare say," replied I; "he only wants to get those
  • cheeks of his tanned." To tell the truth, I was not a little pleased
  • to see the doctor's reputation as an invalid fading away so fast;
  • especially as, on the strength of his being one, he had promised to
  • have such easy times of it, and very likely, too, at my expense.
  • CHAPTER LIX.
  • THE MURPHIES
  • DOZING in our canoe the next morning about daybreak, we were awakened
  • by Zeke's hailing us loudly from the beach.
  • Upon paddling up, he told us that a canoe had arrived overnight, from
  • Papeetee, with an order from a ship lying there for a supply of his
  • potatoes; and as they must be on board the vessel by noon, he wanted
  • us to assist in bringing them down to his sail-boat.
  • My long comrade was one of those who, from always thrusting forth the
  • wrong foot foremost when they rise, or committing some other
  • indiscretion of the limbs, are more or less crabbed or sullen before
  • breakfast. It was in vain, therefore, that the Yankee deplored the
  • urgency of the case which obliged him to call us up thus early:--the
  • doctor only looked the more glum, and said nothing in reply.
  • At last, by way of getting up a little enthusiasm for the occasion,
  • the Yankee exclaimed quite spiritedly, "What d'ye say, then, b'ys,
  • shall we get at it?"
  • "Yes, in the devil's name!" replied the doctor, like a snapping
  • turtle; and we moved on to the house. Notwithstanding his ungracious
  • answer, he probably thought that, after the gastronomic performance
  • of the day previous, it would hardly do to hang back. At the house,
  • we found Shorty ready with the hoes; and we at once repaired to the
  • farther side of the inclosure, where the potatoes had yet to be taken
  • out of the ground.
  • The rich, tawny soil seemed specially adapted to the crop; the great
  • yellow murphies rolling out of the hills like eggs from a nest.
  • My comrade really surprised me by the zeal with which he applied
  • himself to his hoe. For my own part, exhilarated by the cool breath
  • of the morning, I worked away like a good fellow. As for Zeke and the
  • Cockney, they seemed mightily pleased at this evidence of our
  • willingness to exert ourselves.
  • It was not long ere all the potatoes were turned out; and then came
  • the worst of it: they were to be lugged down to the beach, a
  • distance of at least a quarter of a mile. And there being no such
  • thing as a barrow, or cart, on the island, there was nothing for it
  • but spinal-marrows and broad shoulders. Well knowing that this part of
  • the business would be anything but agreeable, Zeke did his best to
  • put as encouraging a face upon it as possible; and giving us no time
  • to indulge in desponding thoughts, gleefully directed our attention
  • to a pile of rude baskets--made of stout stalks--which had been
  • provided for the occasion. So, without more ado, we helped ourselves
  • from the heap: and soon we were all four staggering along under our
  • loads.
  • The first trip down, we arrived at the beach together: Zeke's
  • enthusiastic cries proving irresistible. A trip or two more, however,
  • and my shoulders began to grate in their sockets; while the doctor's
  • tall figure acquired an obvious stoop. Presently, we both threw down
  • our baskets, protesting we could stand it no longer. But our
  • employers, bent, as it were, upon getting the work out of us by a
  • silent appeal to our moral sense, toiled away without pretending to
  • notice us. It was as much as to say, "There, men, we've been boarding
  • and lodging ye for the last three days; and yesterday ye did nothing
  • earthly but eat; so stand by now, and look at us working, if ye
  • dare." Thus driven to it, then, we resumed our employment. Yet, in
  • spite of all we could do, we lagged behind Zeke and Shorty, who,
  • breathing hard, and perspiring at every pore, toiled away without
  • pause or cessation. I almost wickedly wished that they would load
  • themselves down with one potato too many.
  • Gasping as I was with my own hamper, I could not, for the life of me,
  • help laughing at Long Ghost. There he went:--his long neck thrust
  • forward, his arms twisted behind him to form a shelf for his basket
  • to rest on; and his stilts of legs every once in a while giving way
  • under him, as if his knee-joints slipped either way.
  • "There! I carry no more!" he exclaimed all at once, flinging his
  • potatoes into the boat, where the Yankee was just then stowing them
  • away.
  • "Oh, then," said Zeke, quite briskly, "I guess you and Paul had better
  • try the 'barrel-machine'--come along, I'll fix ye out in no time";
  • and, so saying, he waded ashore, and hurried back to the house,
  • bidding us follow.
  • Wondering what upon earth the "barrel-machine" could be, and rather
  • suspicious of it, we limped after. On arriving at the house, we found
  • him getting ready a sort of sedan-chair. It was nothing more than an
  • old barrel suspended by a rope from the middle of a stout oar. Quite
  • an ingenious contrivance of the Yankee's; and his proposed
  • arrangement with regard to mine and the doctor's shoulders was
  • equally so.
  • "There now!" said he, when everything was ready, "there's no
  • back-breaking about this; you can stand right up under it, you see:
  • jist try it once"; and he politely rested the blade of the oar on my
  • comrade's right shoulder, and the other end on mine, leaving the
  • barrel between us.
  • "Jist the thing!" he added, standing off admiringly, while we remained
  • in this interesting attitude.
  • There was no help for us; with broken hearts and backs we trudged back
  • to the field; the doctor all the while saying masses.
  • Upon starting with the loaded barrel, for a few paces we got along
  • pretty well, and were constrained to think the idea not a bad one.
  • But we did not long think so. In less than five minutes we came to a
  • dead halt, the springing and buckling of the clumsy oar being almost
  • unendurable.
  • "Let's shift ends," cried the doctor, who did not relish the blade of
  • the stick, which was cutting into the blade of his shoulder.
  • At last, by stages short and frequent, we managed to shamble down the
  • beach, where we again dumped our cargo, in something of a pet.
  • "Why not make the natives help?" asked Long Ghost, rubbing his
  • shoulder.
  • "Natives be dumned!" said the Yankee, "twenty on 'em ain't worth one
  • white man. They never was meant to work any, them chaps; and they
  • knows it, too, for dumned little work any on 'em ever does."
  • But, notwithstanding this abuse, Zeke was at last obliged to press a
  • few of the bipeds into service. "Aramai!" (come here) he shouted to
  • several, who, reclining on a bank, had hitherto been critical
  • observers of our proceedings; and, among other things, had been
  • particularly amused by the performance with the sedan-chair.
  • After making these fellows load their baskets together, the Yankee
  • filled his own, and then drove them before him down to the beach.
  • Probably he had seen the herds of panniered mules driven in this way
  • by mounted Indians along the great Callao to Lima. The boat at last
  • loaded, the Yankee, taking with him a couple of natives, at once
  • hoisted sail, and stood across the channel for Papeetee.
  • The next morning at breakfast, old Tonoi ran in, and told us that the
  • voyagers were returning. We hurried down to the beach, and saw the
  • boat gliding toward us, with a dozing islander at the helm, and Zeke
  • standing up in the bows, jingling a small bag of silver, the proceeds
  • of his cargo.
  • CHAPTER LX.
  • WHAT THEY THOUGHT OF US IN MARTAIR
  • SEVERAL quiet days now passed away, during which we just worked
  • sufficiently to sharpen our appetites; the planters leniently
  • exempting us from any severe toil.
  • Their desire to retain us became more and more evident; which was not
  • to be wondered at; for, beside esteeming us from the beginning a
  • couple of civil, good-natured fellows, who would soon become quite
  • at-home with them, they were not slow in perceiving that we were far
  • different from the common run of rovers; and that our society was
  • both entertaining and instructive to a couple of solitary, illiterate
  • men like themselves.
  • In a literary point of view, indeed, they soon regarded us with
  • emotions of envy and wonder; and the doctor was considered nothing
  • short of a prodigy. The Cockney found out that he (the doctor) could
  • read a book upside down, without even so much as spelling the big
  • words beforehand; and the Yankee, in the twinkling of an eye,
  • received from him the sum total of several arithmetical items, stated
  • aloud, with the view of testing the extent of his mathematical lore.
  • Then, frequently, in discoursing upon men and things, my long comrade
  • employed such imposing phrases that, upon one occasion, they actually
  • remained uncovered while he talked.
  • In short, their favourable opinion of Long Ghost in particular rose
  • higher and higher every day; and they began to indulge in all manner
  • of dreams concerning the advantages to be derived from employing so
  • learned a labourer. Among other projects revealed was that of
  • building a small craft of some forty tons for the purpose of trading
  • among the neighbouring islands. With a native crew, we would then
  • take turns cruising over the tranquil Pacific; touching here and
  • there, as caprice suggested, and collecting romantic articles of
  • commerce;--beach-de-mer, the pearl-oyster, arrow-root, ambergris,
  • sandal-wood, cocoa-nut oil, and edible birdnests.
  • This South Sea yachting was delightful to think of; and straightway,
  • the doctor announced his willingness to navigate the future schooner
  • clear of all shoals and reefs whatsoever. His impudence was
  • audacious. He enlarged upon the science of navigation; treated us to
  • a dissertation on Mercator's Sailing and the Azimuth compass; and
  • went into an inexplicable explanation of the Lord only knows what
  • plan of his for infallibly settling the longitude.
  • Whenever my comrade thus gave the reins to his fine fancy, it was a
  • treat to listen, and therefore I never interfered; but, with the
  • planters, sat in mute admiration before him. This apparent
  • self-abasement on my part must have been considered as truly
  • indicative of our respective merits; for, to my no small concern, I
  • quickly perceived that, in the estimate formed of us, Long Ghost
  • began to be rated far above myself. For aught I knew, indeed, he
  • might have privately thrown out a hint concerning the difference in
  • our respective stations aboard the Julia; or else the planters must
  • have considered him some illustrious individual, for certain
  • inscrutable reasons, going incog. With this idea of him, his
  • undisguised disinclination for work became venial; and entertaining
  • such views of extending their business, they counted more upon his
  • ultimate value to them as a man of science than as a mere ditcher.
  • Nor did the humorous doctor forbear to foster an opinion every way so
  • advantageous to himself; at times, for the sake of the joke, assuming
  • airs of superiority over myself, which, though laughable enough, were
  • sometimes annoying.
  • To tell the plain truth, things at last came to such a pass that I
  • told him, up and down, that I had no notion to put up with his
  • pretensions; if he were going to play the gentleman, I was going to
  • follow suit; and then there would quickly be an explosion.
  • At this he laughed heartily; and after some mirthful chat, we resolved
  • upon leaving the valley as soon as we could do so with a proper
  • regard to politeness.
  • At supper, therefore, the same evening, the doctor hinted at our
  • intention.
  • Though much surprised, and vexed, Zeke moved not a muscle. "Peter,"
  • said he at last--very gravely--and after mature deliberation, "would
  • you like to do the cooking? It's easy work; and you needn't do
  • anything else. Paul's heartier; he can work in the field when it
  • suits him; and before long, we'll have ye at something more
  • agreeable:--won't we, Shorty?"
  • Shorty assented.
  • Doubtless, the proposed arrangement was a snug one; especially the
  • sinecure for the doctor; but I by no means relished the functions
  • allotted to myself--they were too indefinite. Nothing final, however,
  • was agreed upon;--our intention to leave was revealed, and that was
  • enough for the present. But, as we said nothing further about going,
  • the Yankee must have concluded that we might yet be induced to remain.
  • He redoubled his endeavours to make us contented.
  • It was during this state of affairs that, one morning, before
  • breakfast, we were set to weeding in a potato-patch; and the planters
  • being engaged at the house, we were left to ourselves.
  • Now, though the pulling of weeds was considered by our employers an
  • easy occupation (for which reason they had assigned it to us), and
  • although as a garden recreation it may be pleasant enough, for those
  • who like it--still, long persisted in, the business becomes
  • excessively irksome.
  • Nevertheless, we toiled away for some time, until the doctor, who,
  • from his height, was obliged to stoop at a very acute angle, suddenly
  • sprang upright; and with one hand propping his spinal column,
  • exclaimed, "Oh, that one's joints were but provided with holes to
  • drop a little oil through!"
  • Vain as the aspiration was for this proposed improvement upon our
  • species, I cordially responded thereto; for every vertebra in my
  • spine was articulating in sympathy.
  • Presently, the sun rose over the mountains, inducing that deadly
  • morning languor so fatal to early exertion in a warm climate. We
  • could stand it no longer; but, shouldering our hoes, moved on to the
  • house, resolved to impose no more upon the good-nature of the
  • planters by continuing one moment longer in an occupation so
  • extremely uncongenial.
  • We freely told them so. Zeke was exceedingly hurt, and said everything
  • he could think of to alter our determination; but, finding all
  • unavailing, he very hospitably urged us not to be in any hurry about
  • leaving; for we might stay with him as guests until we had time to
  • decide upon our future movements.
  • We thanked him sincerely; but replied that, the following morning, we
  • must turn our backs upon the hills of Martair.
  • CHAPTER LXI.
  • PREPARING FOR THE JOURNEY
  • DURING the remainder of the day we loitered about, talking over our
  • plans.
  • The doctor was all eagerness to visit Tamai, a solitary inland
  • village, standing upon the banks of a considerable lake of the same
  • name, and embosomed among groves. From Afrehitoo you went to this
  • place by a lonely pathway leading through the wildest scenery in the
  • world. Much, too, we had heard concerning the lake itself, which
  • abounded in such delicious fish that, in former times, angling parties
  • occasionally came over to it from Papeetee.
  • Upon its banks, moreover, grew the finest fruit of the islands, and in
  • their greatest perfection. The "Ve," or Brazilian plum, here attained
  • the size of an orange; and the gorgeous "Arheea," or red apple of
  • Tahiti, blushed with deeper dyes than in any of the seaward valleys.
  • Beside all this, in Tamai dwelt the most beautiful and unsophisticated
  • women in the entire Society group. In short, the village was so
  • remote from the coast, and had been so much less affected by recent
  • changes than other places that, in most things, Tahitian life was
  • here seen as formerly existing in the days of young Otoo, the
  • boy-king, in Cook's time.
  • After obtaining from the planters all the information which was
  • needed, we decided upon penetrating to the village; and after a
  • temporary sojourn there, to strike the beach again, and journey round
  • to Taloo, a harbour on the opposite side of the island.
  • We at once put ourselves in travelling trim. Just previous to leaving
  • Tahiti, having found my wardrobe reduced to two suits (frock and
  • trousers, both much the worse for wear), I had quilted them together
  • for mutual preservation (after a fashion peculiar to sailors);
  • engrafting a red frock upon a blue one, and producing thereby a
  • choice variety in the way of clothing. This was the extent of my
  • wardrobe. Nor was the doctor by any means better off. His
  • improvidence had at last driven him to don the nautical garb; but by
  • this time his frock--a light cotton one--had almost given out, and he
  • had nothing to replace it. Shorty very generously offered him one
  • which was a little less ragged; but the alms were proudly refused;
  • Long Ghost preferring to assume the ancient costume of Tahiti--the
  • "Roora."
  • This garment, once worn as a festival dress, is now seldom met with;
  • but Captain Bob had often shown us one which he kept as an heirloom.
  • It was a cloak, or mantle, of yellow tappa, precisely similar to the
  • "poncho" worn by the South-American Spaniards. The head being slipped
  • through a slit in the middle, the robe hangs about the person in
  • ample drapery. Tonoi obtained sufficient coarse brown tappa to make a
  • short mantle of this description; and in five minutes the doctor was
  • equipped. Zeke, eyeing his toga critically, reminded its proprietor
  • that there were many streams to ford, and precipices to scale,
  • between Martair and Tamai; and if he travelled in petticoats, he had
  • better hold them up.
  • Besides other deficiencies, we were utterly shoeless. In the free and
  • easy Pacific, sailors seldom wear shoes; mine had been tossed
  • overboard the day we met the Trades; and except in one or two tramps
  • ashore, I had never worn any since. In Martair, they would have been
  • desirable: but none were to be had. For the expedition we meditated,
  • however, they were indispensable. Zeke, being the owner of a pair of
  • huge, dilapidated boots, hanging from a rafter like saddlebags, the
  • doctor succeeded in exchanging for them a case-knife, the last
  • valuable article in his possession. For myself, I made sandals from a
  • bullock's hide, such as are worn by the Indians in California. They
  • are made in a minute; the sole, rudely fashioned to the foot, being
  • confined across the instep by three straps of leather.
  • Our headgear deserves a passing word. My comrade's was a brave old
  • Panama hat, made of grass, almost as fine as threads of silk; and so
  • elastic that, upon rolling it up, it sprang into perfect shape again.
  • Set off by the jaunty slouch of this Spanish sombrero, Doctor Long
  • Ghost, in this and his Eoora, looked like a mendicant grandee.
  • Nor was my own appearance in an Eastern turban less distinguished. The
  • way I came to wear it was this. My hat having been knocked overboard
  • a few days before reaching Papeetee, I was obliged to mount an
  • abominable wad of parti-coloured worsted--what sailors call a Scotch
  • cap. Everyone knows the elasticity of knit wool; and this Caledonian
  • head-dress crowned my temples so effectually that the confined
  • atmosphere engendered was prejudicial to my curls. In vain I tried to
  • ventilate the cap: every gash made seemed to heal whole in no time.
  • Then such a continual chafing as it kept up in a hot sun.
  • Seeing my dislike to the thing, Kooloo, my worthy friend, prevailed
  • upon me to bestow it upon him. I did so; hinting that a good boiling
  • might restore the original brilliancy of the colours.
  • It was then that I mounted the turban. Taking a new Regatta frock of
  • the doctor's, which was of a gay calico, and winding it round my head
  • in folds, I allowed the sleeves to droop behind--thus forming a good
  • defence against the sun, though in a shower it was best off. The
  • pendent sleeves adding much to the effect, the doctor called me the
  • Bashaw with Two Tails.
  • Thus arrayed, we were ready for Tamai; in whose green saloons we
  • counted upon creating no small sensation.
  • CHAPTER LXII.
  • TAMAI
  • LONG before sunrise the next morning my sandals were laced on, and the
  • doctor had vaulted into Zeke's boots.
  • Expecting to see us again before we went to Taloo, the planters wished
  • us a pleasant journey; and, on parting, very generously presented us
  • with a pound or two of what sailors call "plug" tobacco; telling us
  • to cut it up into small change; the Virginian weed being the
  • principal circulating medium on the island.
  • Tamai, we were told, was not more than three or four leagues distant;
  • so making allowances for a wild road, a few hours to rest at noon,
  • and our determination to take the journey leisurely, we counted upon
  • reaching the shores of the lake some time in the flush of the
  • evening.
  • For several hours we went on slowly through wood and ravine, and over
  • hill and precipice, seeing nothing but occasional herds of wild
  • cattle, and often resting; until we found ourselves, about noon, in
  • the very heart of the island.
  • It was a green, cool hollow among the mountains, into which we at last
  • descended with a bound. The place was gushing with a hundred springs,
  • and shaded over with great solemn trees, on whose mossy boles the
  • moisture stood in beads. Strange to say, no traces of the bullocks
  • ever having been here were revealed. Nor was there a sound to be
  • heard, nor a bird to be seen, nor any breath of wind stirring the
  • leaves. The utter solitude and silence were oppressive; and after
  • peering about under the shades, and seeing nothing but ranks of dark,
  • motionless trunks, we hurried across the hollow, and ascended a steep
  • mountain opposite.
  • Midway up, we rested where the earth had gathered about the roots of
  • three palms, and thus formed a pleasant lounge, from which we looked
  • down upon the hollow, now one dark green tuft of woodland at our
  • feet. Here we brought forth a small calabash of "poee" a parting
  • present from Tonoi. After eating heartily, we obtained fire by two
  • sticks, and throwing ourselves back, puffed forth our fatigue in
  • wreaths of smoke. At last we fell asleep; nor did we waken till the
  • sun had sunk so low that its rays darted in upon us under the
  • foliage.
  • Starting up, we then continued our journey; and as we gained the
  • mountain top--there, to our surprise, lay the lake and village of
  • Tamai. We had thought it a good league off. Where we stood, the
  • yellow sunset was still lingering; but over the valley below long
  • shadows were stealing--the rippling green lake reflecting the houses
  • and trees just as they stood along its banks. Several small canoes,
  • moored here and there to posts in the water, were dancing upon the
  • waves; and one solitary fisherman was paddling over to a grassy
  • point. In front of the houses, groups of natives were seen; some
  • thrown at full length upon the ground, and others indolently leaning
  • against the bamboos.
  • With whoop and halloo, we ran down the hills, the villagers soon
  • hurrying forth to see who were coming. As we drew near, they gathered
  • round, all curiosity to know what brought the "karhowrees" into their
  • quiet country. The doctor contriving to make them understand the
  • purely social object of our visit, they gave us a true Tahitian
  • welcome; pointing into their dwellings, and saying they were ours as
  • long as we chose to remain.
  • We were struck by the appearance of these people, both men and women;
  • so much more healthful than the inhabitants of the bays. As for the
  • young girls, they were more retiring and modest, more tidy in their
  • dress, and far fresher and more beautiful than the damsels of the
  • coast. A thousand pities, thought I, that they should bury their
  • charms in this nook of a valley.
  • That night we abode in the house of Rartoo, a hospitable old chief. It
  • was right on the shore of the lake; and at supper we looked out
  • through a rustling screen of foliage upon the surface of the starlit
  • water.
  • The next day we rambled about, and found a happy little community,
  • comparatively free from many deplorable evils to which the rest of
  • their countrymen are subject. Their time, too, was more occupied. To
  • my surprise, the manufacture of tappa was going on in several
  • buildings. European calicoes were seldom seen, and not many articles
  • of foreign origin of any description.
  • The people of Tamai were nominally Christians; but being so remote
  • from ecclesiastical jurisdiction, their religion sat lightly upon
  • them. We had been told, even, that many heathenish games and dances
  • still secretly lingered in their valley.
  • Now the prospect of seeing an old-fashioned "hevar," or Tahitian reel,
  • was one of the inducements which brought us here; and so, finding
  • Rartoo rather liberal in his religious ideas, we disclosed our
  • desire. At first he demurred; and shrugging his shoulders like a
  • Frenchman, declared it could not be brought about--was a dangerous
  • matter to attempt, and might bring all concerned into trouble. But we
  • overcame all this, convinced him that the thing could be done, and a
  • "hevar," a genuine pagan fandango, was arranged for that very night.
  • CHAPTER LXIII.
  • A DANCE IN THE VALLEY
  • THERE were some ill-natured people--tell-tales--it seemed, in Tamai;
  • and hence there was a deal of mystery about getting up the dance.
  • An hour or two before midnight, Rartoo entered the house, and,
  • throwing robes of tappa over us, bade us follow at a distance behind
  • him; and, until out of the village, hood our faces. Keenly alive to
  • the adventure, we obeyed. At last, after taking a wide circuit, we
  • came out upon the farthest shore of the lake. It was a wide, dewy,
  • space; lighted up by a full moon, and carpeted with a minute species
  • of fern growing closely together. It swept right down to the water,
  • showing the village opposite, glistening among the groves.
  • Near the trees, on one side of the clear space, was a ruinous pile of
  • stones many rods in extent; upon which had formerly stood a temple of
  • Oro. At present, there was nothing but a rude hut, planted on the
  • lowermost terrace. It seemed to have been used as a "tappa herree,"
  • or house for making the native cloth.
  • Here we saw lights gleaming from between the bamboos, and casting
  • long, rod-like shadows upon the ground without. Voices also were
  • heard. We went up, and had a peep at the dancers who were getting
  • ready for the ballet. They were some twenty in number;-waited upon by
  • hideous old crones, who might have been duennas. Long Ghost proposed
  • to send the latter packing; but Rartoo said it would never do, and so
  • they were permitted to remain.
  • We tried to effect an entrance at the door, which was fastened; but,
  • after a noisy discussion with one of the old witches within, our
  • guide became fidgety, and, at last, told us to desist, or we would
  • spoil all. He then led us off to a distance to await the performance;
  • as the girls, he said, did not wish to be recognized. He,
  • furthermore, made us promise to remain where we were until all was
  • over, and the dancers had retired.
  • We waited impatiently; and, at last, they came forth. They were
  • arrayed in short tunics of white tappa; with garlands of flowers on
  • their heads. Following them were the duennas, who remained clustering
  • about the house, while the girls advanced a few paces; and, in an
  • instant, two of them, taller than their companions, were standing,
  • side by side, in the middle of a ring formed by the clasped hands of
  • the rest. This movement was made in perfect silence.
  • Presently the two girls join hands overhead; and, crying out, "Ahloo!
  • ahloo!" wave them to and fro. Upon which the ring begins to circle
  • slowly; the dancers moving sideways, with their arms a little
  • drooping. Soon they quicken their pace; and, at last, fly round and
  • round: bosoms heaving, hair streaming, flowers dropping, and every
  • sparkling eye circling in what seemed a line of light.
  • Meanwhile, the pair within are passing and repassing each other
  • incessantly. Inclining sideways, so that their long hair falls far
  • over, they glide this way and that; one foot continually in the air,
  • and their fingers thrown forth, and twirling in the moonbeams.
  • "Ahloo! ahloo!" again cry the dance queens; and coming together in the
  • middle of the ring, they once more lift up the arch, and stand
  • motionless.
  • "Ahloo! ahloo!" Every link of the circle is broken; and the girls,
  • deeply breathing, stand perfectly still. They pant hard and fast a
  • moment or two; and then, just as the deep flush is dying away from
  • their faces, slowly recede, all round; thus enlarging the ring.
  • Again the two leaders wave their hands, when the rest pause; and now,
  • far apart, stand in the still moonlight like a circle of fairies.
  • Presently, raising a strange chant, they softly sway themselves,
  • gradually quickening the movement, until, at length, for a few
  • passionate moments, with throbbing bosoms and glowing cheeks, they
  • abandon themselves to all the spirit of the dance, apparently lost to
  • everything around. But soon subsiding again into the same languid
  • measure as before, they become motionless; and then, reeling forward
  • on all sides, their eyes swimming in their heads, join in one wild
  • chorus, and sink into each other's arms.
  • Such is the Lory-Lory, I think they call it; the dance of the
  • backsliding girls of Tamai.
  • While it was going on, we had as much as we could do to keep the
  • doctor from rushing forward and seizing a partner.
  • They would give us no more "hevars" that night; and Rartoo fairly
  • dragged us away to a canoe, hauled up on the lake shore; when we
  • reluctantly embarked, and paddling over to the village, arrived there
  • in time for a good nap before sunrise.
  • The next day, the doctor went about trying to hunt up the overnight
  • dancers. He thought to detect them by their late rising; but never
  • was man more mistaken; for, on first sallying out, the whole village
  • was asleep, waking up in concert about an hour after. But, in the
  • course of the day, he came across several whom he at once charged
  • with taking part in the "hevar." There were some prim-looking fellows
  • standing by (visiting elders from Afrehitoo, perhaps), and the girls
  • looked embarrassed; but parried the charge most skilfully.
  • Though soft as doves, in general, the ladies of Tamai are,
  • nevertheless, flavoured with a slight tincture of what we queerly
  • enough call the "devil"; and they showed it on the present occasion.
  • For when the doctor pressed one rather hard, she all at once turned
  • round upon him, and, giving him a box on the ear, told him to "hanree
  • perrar!" (be off with himself.)
  • CHAPTER LXIV.
  • MYSTERIOUS
  • THERE was a little old man of a most hideous aspect living in Tamai,
  • who, in a coarse mantle of tappa, went about the village, dancing,
  • and singing, and making faces. He followed us about wherever we went;
  • and, when unobserved by others, plucked at our garments, making
  • frightful signs for us to go along with him somewhere, and see
  • something.
  • It was in vain that we tried to get rid of him. Kicks and cuffs, even,
  • were at last resorted to; but, though he howled like one possessed,
  • he would not go away, but still haunted us. At last, we conjured the
  • natives to rid us of him; but they only laughed; so we were forced to
  • endure the dispensation as well as we could.
  • On the fourth night of our visit, returning home late from paying a
  • few calls through the village, we turned a dark corner of trees, and
  • came full upon our goblin friend: as usual, chattering, and motioning
  • with his hands. The doctor, venting a curse, hurried forward; but,
  • from some impulse or other, I stood my ground, resolved to find out
  • what this unaccountable object wanted of us. Seeing me pause, he crept
  • close up to me, peered into my face, and then retreated, beckoning me
  • to follow; which I did.
  • In a few moments the village was behind us; and with my guide in
  • advance, I found myself in the shadow of the heights overlooking the
  • farther side of the valley. Here my guide paused until I came up with
  • him; when, side by side, and without speaking, we ascended the hill.
  • Presently, we came to a wretched hut, barely distinguishable in the
  • shade cast by the neighbouring trees. Pushing aside a rude sliding
  • door, held together with thongs, the goblin signed me to enter.
  • Within, it looked dark as pitch; so I gave him to understand that he
  • must strike a light, and go in before me. Without replying, he
  • disappeared in the darkness; and, after groping about, I heard two
  • sticks rubbing together, and directly saw a spark. A native taper was
  • then lighted, and I stooped, and entered.
  • It was a mere kennel. Foul old mats, and broken cocoa-nut shells, and
  • calabashes were strewn about the floor of earth; and overhead I
  • caught glimpses of the stars through chinks in the roof. Here and
  • there the thatch had fallen through, and hung down in wisps.
  • I now told him to set about what he was going to do, or produce
  • whatever he had to show without delay. Looking round fearfully, as if
  • dreading a surprise, he commenced turning over and over the rubbish
  • in one corner. At last, he clutched a calabash, stained black, and
  • with the neck broken off; on one side of it was a large hole.
  • Something seemed to be stuffed away in the vessel; and after a deal of
  • poking at the aperture, a musty old pair of sailor trousers was drawn
  • forth; and, holding them up eagerly, he inquired how many pieces of
  • tobacco I would give for them.
  • Without replying, I hurried away; the old man chasing me, and shouting
  • as I ran, until I gained the village. Here I dodged him, and made my
  • way home, resolved never to disclose so inglorious an adventure.
  • To no purpose, the next morning, my comrade besought me to enlighten
  • him; I preserved a mysterious silence.
  • The occurrence served me a good turn, however, so long as we abode in
  • Tamai; for the old clothesman never afterwards troubled me; but
  • forever haunted the doctor, who, in vain, supplicated Heaven to be
  • delivered from him.
  • CHAPTER LXV.
  • THE HEGIRA, OR FLIGHT
  • "I SAY, doctor," cried I, a few days after my adventure with the
  • goblin, as, in the absence of our host, we were one morning lounging
  • upon the matting in his dwelling, smoking our reed pipes, "Tamai's a
  • thriving place; why not settle down?"
  • "Faith!" said he, "not a bad idea, Paul. But do you fancy they'll let
  • us stay, though?"
  • "Why, certainly; they would be overjoyed to have a couple of
  • Karhowrees for townsmen."
  • "Gad! you're right, my pleasant fellow. Ha! ha! I'll put up a
  • banana-leaf as a physician from London--deliver lectures on
  • Polynesian antiquities--teach English in five lessons, of one hour
  • each--establish power-looms for the manufacture of tappa--lay out a
  • public park in the middle of the village, and found a festival in
  • honour of Captain Cook!"
  • "But, surely, not without stopping to take breath," observed I.
  • The doctor's projects, to be sure, were of a rather visionary cast;
  • but we seriously thought, nevertheless, of prolonging our stay in the
  • valley for an indefinite period; and, with this understanding, we
  • were turning over various plans for spending our time pleasantly,
  • when several women came running into the house, and hurriedly
  • besought us to heree! heree! (make our escape), crying out something
  • about the Mickonarees.
  • Thinking that we were about to be taken up under the act for the
  • suppression of vagrancy, we flew out of the house, sprang into a
  • canoe before the door, and paddled with might and main over to the
  • opposite side of the lake.
  • Approaching Rartoo's dwelling was a great crowd, among which we
  • perceived several natives, who, from their partly European dress, we
  • were certain did not reside in Tamai.
  • Plunging into the groves, we thanked our stars that we had thus
  • narrowly escaped being apprehended as runaway seamen, and marched off
  • to the beach. This, at least, was what we thought we had escaped.
  • Having fled the village, we could not think of prowling about its
  • vicinity, and then returning; in doing so we might be risking our
  • liberty again. We therefore determined upon journeying back to
  • Martair; and setting our faces thitherward, we reached the planters'
  • house about nightfall. They gave us a cordial reception, and a hearty
  • supper; and we sat up talking until a late hour.
  • We now prepared to go round to Taloo, a place from which we were not
  • far off when at Tamai; but wishing to see as much of the island as we
  • could, we preferred returning to Martair, and then going round by way
  • of the beach.
  • Taloo, the only frequented harbour of Imeeo, lies on the western side
  • of the island, almost directly over against Martair. Upon one shore
  • of the bay stands the village of Partoowye, a missionary station. In
  • its vicinity is an extensive sugar plantation--the best in the South
  • Seas, perhaps--worked by a person from Sydney.
  • The patrimonial property of the husband of Pomaree, and every way a
  • delightful retreat, Partoowye was one of the occasional residences of
  • the court. But at the time I write of it was permanently fixed there,
  • the queen having fled thither from Tahiti.
  • Partoowye, they told us, was by no means the place Papeetee was. Ships
  • seldom touched, and very few foreigners were living ashore. A
  • solitary whaler, however, was reported to be lying in the harbour,
  • wooding and watering, and to be in want of men.
  • All things considered, I could not help looking upon Taloo as offering
  • "a splendid opening" for us adventurers. To say nothing of the
  • facilities presented for going to sea in the whaler, or hiring
  • ourselves out as day labourers in the sugar plantation, there were
  • hopes to be entertained of being promoted to some office of high
  • trust and emolument about the person of her majesty, the queen.
  • Nor was this expectation altogether Quixotic. In the train of many
  • Polynesian princes roving whites are frequently found: gentleman
  • pensioners of state, basking in the tropical sunshine of the court,
  • and leading the pleasantest lives in the world. Upon islands little
  • visited by foreigners the first seaman that settles down is generally
  • domesticated in the family of the head chief or king; where he
  • frequently discharges the functions of various offices, elsewhere
  • filled by as many different individuals. As historiographer, for
  • instance, he gives the natives some account of distant countries; as
  • commissioner of the arts and sciences, he instructs them in the use of
  • the jack-knife, and the best way of shaping bits of iron hoop into
  • spear-heads; and as interpreter to his majesty, he facilitates
  • intercourse with strangers; besides instructing the people generally
  • in the uses of the most common English phrases, civil and profane;
  • but oftener the latter.
  • These men generally marry well; often--like Hardy of Hannamanoo--into
  • the Wood royal.
  • Sometimes they officiate as personal attendant, or First Lord in
  • Waiting, to the king. At Amboi, one of the Tonga Islands, a vagabond
  • Welshman bends his knee as cupbearer to his cannibal majesty. He
  • mixes his morning cup of "arva," and, with profound genuflections,
  • presents it in a cocoa-nut bowl, richly carved. Upon another island
  • of the same group, where it is customary to bestow no small pains in
  • dressing the hair--frizzing it out by a curious process into an
  • enormous Pope's head--an old man-of-war's-man fills the post of
  • barber to the king. And as his majesty is not very neat, his mop is
  • exceedingly populous; so that, when Jack is not engaged in dressing
  • the head intrusted to his charge, he busies himself in gently
  • titillating it--a sort of skewer being actually worn about in the
  • patient's hair for that special purpose.
  • Even upon the Sandwich Islands a low rabble of foreigners is kept
  • about the person of Tammahammaha for the purpose of ministering to
  • his ease or enjoyment.
  • Billy Loon, a jolly little negro, tricked out in a soiled blue jacket,
  • studded all over with rusty bell buttons, and garnished with shabby
  • gold lace, is the royal drummer and pounder of the tambourine. Joe, a
  • wooden-legged Portuguese who lost his leg by a whale, is violinist;
  • and Mordecai, as he is called, a villainous-looking scamp, going
  • about with his cups and balls in a side pocket, diverts the court with
  • his jugglery. These idle rascals receive no fixed salary, being
  • altogether dependent upon the casual bounty of their master. Now and
  • then they run up a score at the Dance Houses in Honolulu, where the
  • illustrious Tammahammaha III afterwards calls and settles the bill.
  • A few years since an auctioneer to his majesty came near being added
  • to the retinue of state. It seems that he was the first man who had
  • practised his vocation in the Sandwich Islands; and delighted with
  • the sport of bidding upon his wares, the king was one of his best
  • customers. At last he besought the man to leave all and follow him,
  • and he should be handsomely provided for at court. But the auctioneer
  • refused; and so the ivory hammer lost the chance of being borne
  • before him on a velvet cushion when the next king went to be crowned.
  • But it was not as strolling players, nor as footmen out of employ,
  • that the doctor and myself looked forward to our approaching
  • introduction to the court of the Queen of Tahiti. On the contrary, as
  • before hinted, we expected to swell the appropriations of bread-fruit
  • and cocoa-nuts on the Civil List by filling some honourable office in
  • her gift.
  • We were told that, to resist the usurpation of the French, the queen
  • was rallying about her person all the foreigners she could. Her
  • partiality for the English and Americans was well known; and this was
  • an additional ground for our anticipating a favourable reception.
  • Zeke had informed us, moreover, that by the queen's counsellors at
  • Partoowye, a war of aggression against the invaders of Papeetee had
  • been seriously thought of. Should this prove true, a surgeon's
  • commission for the doctor, and a lieutenancy for myself, were
  • certainly counted upon in our sanguine expectations.
  • Such, then, were our views, and such our hopes in projecting a trip to
  • Taloo. But in our most lofty aspirations we by no means lost sight of
  • any minor matters which might help us to promotion. The doctor had
  • informed me that he excelled in playing the fiddle. I now suggested
  • that, as soon as we arrived at Partoowye, we should endeavour to
  • borrow a violin for him; or if this could not be done, that he should
  • manufacture some kind of a substitute, and, thus equipped, apply for
  • an audience of the queen. Her well-known passion for music would at
  • once secure his admittance; and so, under the most favourable
  • auspices, bring about our introduction to her notice.
  • "And who knows," said my waggish comrade, throwing his head back and
  • performing an imaginary air by briskly drawing one arm across the
  • other, "who knows that I may not fiddle myself into her majesty's
  • good graces so as to became a sort of Rizzio to the Tahitian
  • princess."
  • CHAPTER LXVI.
  • HOW WE WERE TO GET TO TALOO
  • THE inglorious circumstances of our somewhat premature departure from
  • Tamai filled the sagacious doctor, and myself, with sundry misgivings
  • for the future.
  • Under Zeke's protection, we were secure from all impertinent
  • interference in our concerns on the part of the natives. But as
  • friendless wanderers over the island, we ran the risk of being
  • apprehended as runaways, and, as such, sent back to Tahiti. The
  • truth is that the rewards constantly offered for the apprehension of
  • deserters from ships induce some of the natives to eye all strangers
  • suspiciously.
  • A passport was therefore desirable; but such a thing had never been
  • heard of in Imeeo. At last, Long Ghost suggested that, as the Yankee
  • was well known and much respected all over the island, we should
  • endeavour to obtain from him some sort of paper, not only certifying
  • to our having been in his employ, but also to our not being
  • highwaymen, kidnappers, nor yet runaway seamen. Even written in
  • English, a paper like this would answer every purpose; for the
  • unlettered natives, standing in great awe of the document, would not
  • dare to molest us until acquainted with its purport. Then, if it
  • came to the worst, we might repair to the nearest missionary, and have
  • the passport explained.
  • Upon informing Zeke of these matters, he seemed highly flattered with
  • the opinion we entertained of his reputation abroad; and he agreed to
  • oblige us. The doctor at once offered to furnish him with a draught
  • of the paper; but he refused, saying he would write it himself. With
  • a rooster's quill, therefore, a bit of soiled paper, and a stout
  • heart, he set to work. Evidently he was not accustomed to composition;
  • for his literary throes were so violent that the doctor suggested
  • that some sort of a Caesarian operation might be necessary.
  • The precious paper was at last finished; and a great curiosity it was.
  • We were much diverted with his reasons for not dating it.
  • "In this here dummed eliminate," he observed, "a feller can't keep the
  • run of the months, nohow; cause there's no seasons; no summer and
  • winter, to go by. One's etarnally thinkin' it's always July, it's so
  • pesky hot."
  • A passport provided, we cast about for some means of getting to
  • Taloo.
  • The island of Imeeo is very nearly surrounded by a regular breakwater
  • of coral extending within a mile or less of the shore. The smooth
  • canal within furnishes the best means of communication with the
  • different settlements; all of which, with the exception of Tamai, are
  • right upon the water. And so indolent are the Imeeose that they think
  • nothing of going twenty or thirty miles round the island in a canoe in
  • order to reach a place not a quarter of that distance by land. But as
  • hinted before, the fear of the bullocks has something to do with
  • this.
  • The idea of journeying in a canoe struck our fancy quite pleasantly;
  • and we at once set about chartering one, if possible. But none could
  • we obtain. For not only did we have nothing to pay for hiring one,
  • but we could not expect to have it loaned; inasmuch as the
  • good-natured owner would, in all probability, have to walk along the
  • beach as we paddled in order to bring back his property when we had no
  • further use for it.
  • At last, it was decided to commence our journey on foot; trusting that
  • we would soon fall in with a canoe going our way, in which we might
  • take passage.
  • The planters said we would find no beaten path: all we had to do was
  • to follow the beach; and however inviting it might look inland, on no
  • account must we stray from it. In short, the longest way round was
  • the nearest way to Taloo. At intervals, there were little hamlets
  • along the shore, besides lonely fishermen's huts here and there,
  • where we could get plenty to eat without pay; so there was no
  • necessity to lay in any store.
  • Intending to be off before sunrise the next morning, so as to have the
  • benefit of the coolest part of the day, we bade our kind hosts
  • farewell overnight; and then, repairing to the beach, we launched our
  • floating pallet, and slept away merrily till dawn.
  • CHAPTER LXVII.
  • THE JOURNEY ROUND THE BEACH
  • IT was on the fourth day of the first month of the Hegira, or flight
  • from Tamai (we now reckoned our time thus), that, rising bright and
  • early, we were up and away out of the valley of Martair before the
  • fishermen even were stirring.
  • It was the earliest dawn. The morning only showed itself along the
  • lower edge of a bank of purple clouds pierced by the misty peaks of
  • Tahiti. The tropical day seemed too languid to rise. Sometimes,
  • starting fitfully, it decked the clouds with faint edgings of pink
  • and gray, which, fading away, left all dim again. Anon, it threw out
  • thin, pale rays, growing lighter and lighter, until at last, the
  • golden morning sprang out of the East with a bound--darting its
  • bright beams hither and thither, higher and higher, and sending them,
  • broadcast, over the face of the heavens.
  • All balmy from the groves of Tahiti came an indolent air, cooled by
  • its transit over the waters; and grateful underfoot was the damp and
  • slightly yielding beach, from which the waves seemed just retired.
  • The doctor was in famous spirits; removing his Koora, he went
  • splashing into the sea; and, after swimming a few yards, waded
  • ashore, hopping, skipping, and jumping along the beach; but very
  • careful to cut all his capers in the direction of our journey.
  • Say what they will of the glowing independence one feels in the
  • saddle, give me the first morning flush of your cheery pedestrian!
  • Thus exhilarated, we went on, as light-hearted and care-free as we
  • could wish.
  • And here I cannot refrain from lauding the very superior inducements
  • which most intertropical countries afford, not only to mere rovers
  • like ourselves, but to penniless people generally. In these genial
  • regions one's wants are naturally diminished; and those which remain
  • are easily gratified; fuel, house-shelter, and, if you please,
  • clothing, may be entirely dispensed with.
  • How different our hard northern latitudes! Alas! the lot of a "poor
  • devil," twenty degrees north of the tropic of Cancer, is indeed
  • pitiable.
  • At last, the beach contracted to hardly a yard's width, and the dense
  • thicket almost dipped into the sea. In place of the smooth sand, too,
  • we had sharp fragments of broken coral, which made travelling
  • exceedingly unpleasant. "Lord! my foot!" roared the doctor, fetching
  • it up for inspection, with a galvanic fling of the limb. A sharp
  • splinter had thrust itself into the flesh through a hole in his boot.
  • My sandals were worse yet; their soles taking a sort of fossil
  • impression of everything trod upon.
  • Turning round a bold sweep of the beach, we came upon a piece of fine,
  • open ground, with a fisherman's dwelling in the distance, crowning a
  • knoll which rolled off into the water.
  • The hut proved to be a low, rude erection, very recently thrown up;
  • for the bamboos were still green as grass, and the thatching fresh
  • and fragrant as meadow hay. It was open upon three sides; so that,
  • upon drawing near, the domestic arrangements within were in plain
  • sight. No one was stirring; and nothing was to be seen but a clumsy
  • old chest of native workmanship, a few calabashes, and bundles of
  • tappa hanging against a post; and a heap of something, we knew not
  • what, in a dark corner. Upon close inspection, the doctor discovered
  • it to be a loving old couple, locked in each other's arms, and rolled
  • together in a tappa mantle.
  • "Halloa! Darby!" he cried, shaking the one with a beard. But Darby
  • heeded him not; though Joan, a wrinkled old body, started up in
  • affright, and yelled aloud. Neither of us attempting to gag her, she
  • presently became quiet; and, after staring hard and asking some
  • unintelligible questions, she proceeded to rouse her still slumbering
  • mate.
  • What ailed him we could not tell; but there was no waking him. Equally
  • in vain were all his dear spouse's cuffs, pinches, and other
  • endearments; he lay like a log, face up, snoring away like a cavalry
  • trumpeter.
  • "Here, my good woman," said Long Ghost, "just let me try"; and, taking
  • the patient right by his nose, he so lifted him bodily into a sitting
  • position, and held him there until his eyes opened. When this event
  • came to pass, Darby looked round like one stupefied; and then,
  • springing to his feet, backed away into a corner, from which place we
  • became the objects of his earnest and respectful attention.
  • "Permit me, my dear Darby, to introduce to you my esteemed friend and
  • comrade, Paul," said the doctor, gallanting me up with all the
  • grimace and flourish imaginable. Upon this, Darby began to recover
  • his faculties, and surprised us not a little by talking a few words
  • of English. So far as could be understood, they were expressive of
  • his having been aware that there were two "karhowrees" in the
  • neighbourhood; that he was glad to see us, and would have something
  • for us to eat in no time.
  • How he came by his English was explained to us before we left. Some
  • time previous, he had been a denizen of Papeetee, where the native
  • language is broidered over with the most classic sailor phrases. He
  • seemed to be quite proud of his residence there; and alluded to it in
  • the same significant way in which a provincial informs you that in
  • his time he has resided in the capital. The old fellow was disposed to
  • be garrulous; but being sharp-set, we told him to get breakfast;
  • after which we would hear his anecdotes. While employed among the
  • calabashes, the strange, antiquated fondness between these old
  • semi-savages was really amusing. I made no doubt that they were
  • saying to each other, "yes, my love"--"no, my life," just in the same
  • way that some young couples do, at home.
  • They gave us a hearty meal; and while we were discussing its merits,
  • they assured us, over and over again, that they expected nothing in
  • return for their attentions; more: we were at liberty to stay as long
  • as we pleased; and as long as we did stay, their house and everything
  • they had was no longer theirs, but ours; still more: they themselves
  • were our slaves--the old lady, to a degree that was altogether
  • superfluous. This, now, is Tahitian hospitality! Self-immolation upon
  • one's own hearthstone for the benefit of the guest.
  • The Polynesians carry their hospitality to an amazing extent. Let a
  • native of Waiurar, the westernmost part of Tahiti, make his
  • appearance as a traveller at Partoowye, the most easterly village of
  • Imeeo; though a perfect stranger, the inhabitants on all sides accost
  • him at their doorways, inviting him to enter, and make himself at
  • home. But the traveller passes on, examining every house attentively;
  • until, at last, he pauses before one which suits him, and then
  • exclaiming, "ah, eda maitai" (this one will do, I think), he steps
  • in, and makes himself perfectly at ease; flinging himself upon the
  • mats, and very probably calling for a nice young cocoa-nut, and a
  • piece of toasted breadfruit, sliced thin, and done brown.
  • Curious to relate, however, should a stranger carrying it thus bravely
  • be afterwards discovered to be without a house of his own, why, he
  • may thenceforth go a-begging for his lodgings. The "karhowrees," or
  • white men, are exceptions to this rule. Thus it is precisely as in
  • civilized countries, where those who have houses and lands are
  • incessantly bored to death with invitations to come and live in other
  • people's houses; while many a poor gentleman who inks the seams of
  • his coat, and to whom the like invitation would be really acceptable,
  • may go and sue for it. But to the credit of the ancient Tahitians, it
  • should here be observed that this blemish upon their hospitality is
  • only of recent origin, and was wholly unknown in old times. So told
  • me, Captain Bob.
  • In Polynesia it is esteemed "a great hit" if a man succeed in marrying
  • into a family to which the best part of the community is related
  • (Heaven knows it is otherwise with us). The reason is that, when he
  • goes a-travelling, the greater number of houses are the more
  • completely at his service.
  • Receiving a paternal benediction from old Darby and Joan, we continued
  • our journey; resolved to stop at the very next place of attraction
  • which offered.
  • Nor did we long stroll for it. A fine walk along a beach of shells,
  • and we came to a spot where, trees here and there, the land was all
  • meadow, sloping away to the water, which stirred a sedgy growth of
  • reeds bordering its margin. Close by was a little cove, walled in
  • with coral, where a fleet of canoes was dancing up and down. A few
  • paces distant, on a natural terrace overlooking the sea, were several
  • native dwellings, newly thatched, and peeping into view out of the
  • foliage like summer-houses.
  • As we drew near, forth came a burst of voices, and, presently, three
  • gay girls, overflowing with life, health, and youth, and full of
  • spirits and mischief. One was arrayed in a flaunting robe of calico;
  • and her long black hair was braided behind in two immense tresses,
  • joined together at the ends, and wreathed with the green tendrils of
  • a vine. From her self-possessed and forward air, I fancied she might
  • be some young lady from Papeetee on a visit to her country relations.
  • Her companions wore mere slips of cotton cloth; their hair was
  • dishevelled; and though very pretty, they betrayed the reserve and
  • embarrassment characteristic of the provinces.
  • The little gipsy first mentioned ran up to me with great cordiality;
  • and, giving the Tahitian salutation, opened upon me such a fire of
  • questions that there was no understanding, much less answering them.
  • But our hearty welcome to Loohooloo, as she called the hamlet, was
  • made plain enough. Meanwhile, Doctor Long Ghost gallantly presented
  • an arm to each of the other young ladies; which, at first, they knew
  • not what to make of; but at last, taking it for some kind of joke,
  • accepted the civility.
  • The names of these three damsels were at once made known by
  • themselves: and being so exceedingly romantic, I cannot forbear
  • particularizing them. Upon my comrade's arms, then, were hanging
  • Night and Morning, in the persons of Farnowar, or the Day-Born, and
  • Earnoopoo, or the Night-Born. She with the tresses was very
  • appropriately styled Marhar-Rarrar, the Wakeful, or Bright-Eyed.
  • By this time, the houses were emptied of the rest of their inmates--a
  • few old men and women, and several strapping young fellows rubbing
  • their eyes and yawning. All crowded round, putting questions as to
  • whence we came. Upon being informed of our acquaintance with Zeke,
  • they were delighted; and one of them recognized the boots worn by the
  • doctor. "Keekee (Zeke) maitai," they cried, "nuee nuee hanna hanna
  • portarto"--(makes plenty of potatoes).
  • There was now a little friendly altercation as to who should have the
  • honour of entertaining the strangers. At last, a tall old gentleman,
  • by name Marharvai, with a bald head and white beard, took us each by
  • the hand, and led us into his dwelling. Once inside, Marharvai,
  • pointing about with his staff, was so obsequious in assuring us that
  • his house was ours that Long Ghost suggested he might as well hand
  • over the deed.
  • It was drawing near noon; so after a light lunch of roasted
  • breadfruit, a few whiffs of a pipe, and some lively chatting, our
  • host admonished the company to lie down, and take the everlasting
  • siesta. We complied; and had a social nap all round.
  • CHAPTER LXVIII.
  • A DINNER-PARTY IN IMEEO
  • IT WAS just in the middle of the merry, mellow afternoon that they
  • ushered us to dinner, underneath a green shelter of palm boughs; open
  • all round, and so low at the eaves that we stooped to enter.
  • Within, the ground was strewn over with aromatic ferns--called
  • "nahee"--freshly gathered; which, stirred underfoot, diffused the
  • sweetest odour. On one side was a row of yellow mats, inwrought with
  • fibres of bark stained a bright red. Here, seated after the fashion
  • of the Turk, we looked out, over a verdant bank, upon the mild, blue,
  • endless Pacific. So far round had we skirted the island that the view
  • of Tahiti was now intercepted.
  • Upon the ferns before us were laid several layers of broad, thick
  • "pooroo" leaves; lapping over, one upon the other. And upon these
  • were placed, side by side, newly-plucked banana leaves, at least two
  • yards in length, and very wide; the stalks were withdrawn so as to
  • make them lie flat. This green cloth was set out and garnished in the
  • manner following:--
  • First, a number of "pooroo" leaves, by way of plates, were ranged
  • along on one side; and by each was a rustic nut-bowl, half-filled
  • with sea-water, and a Tahitian roll, or small bread-fruit, roasted
  • brown. An immense flat calabash, placed in the centre, was heaped up
  • with numberless small packages of moist, steaming leaves: in each was
  • a small fish, baked in the earth, and done to a turn. This pyramid of
  • a dish was flanked on either side by an ornamental calabash. One was
  • brimming with the golden-hued "poee," or pudding, made from the red
  • plantain of the mountains: the other was stacked up with cakes of the
  • Indian turnip, previously macerated in a mortar, kneaded with the
  • milk of the cocoa-nut, and then baked. In the spaces between the
  • three dishes were piled young cocoa-nuts, stripped of their husks.
  • Their eyes had been opened and enlarged; so that each was a
  • ready-charged goblet.
  • There was a sort of side-cloth in one corner, upon which, in bright,
  • buff jackets, lay the fattest of bananas; "avees," red-ripe: guavas
  • with the shadows of their crimson pulp flushing through a transparent
  • skin, and almost coming and going there like blushes; oranges,
  • tinged, here and there, berry-brown; and great, jolly melons, which
  • rolled about in very portliness. Such a heap! All ruddy, ripe, and
  • round--bursting with the good cheer of the tropical soil from which
  • they sprang!
  • "A land of orchards!" cried the doctor, in a rapture; and he snatched
  • a morsel from a sort of fruit of which gentlemen of the sanguine
  • temperament are remarkably fond; namely, the ripe cherry lips of Misa
  • Day-Born, who stood looking on.
  • Marharvai allotted seats to his guests; and the meal began. Thinking
  • that his hospitality needed some acknowledgment, I rose, and pledged
  • him in the vegetable wine of the cocoa-nut; merely repeating the
  • ordinary salutation, "Yar onor boyoee." Sensible that some
  • compliment, after the fashion of white men, was paid him, with a
  • smile, and a courteous flourish of the hand, he bade me be seated. No
  • people, however refined, are more easy and graceful in their manners
  • than the Imeeose.
  • The doctor, sitting next our host, now came under his special
  • protection. Laying before his guest one of the packages of fish,
  • Marharvai opened it; and commended its contents to his particular
  • regards. But my comrade was one of those who, on convivial occasions,
  • can always take care of themselves. He ate an indefinite number of
  • "Pee-hee Lee Lees" (small fish), his own and next neighbour's
  • bread-fruit; and helped himself, to right and left, with all the ease
  • of an accomplished diner-out.
  • "Paul," said he, at last, "you don't seem to be getting along; why
  • don't you try the pepper sauce?" and, by way of example, he steeped a
  • morsel of food into his nutful of sea-water. On following suit, I
  • found it quite piquant, though rather bitter; but, on the whole, a
  • capital substitute for salt. The Imeeose invariably use sea-water in
  • this way, deeming it quite a treat; and considering that their
  • country is surrounded by an ocean of catsup, the luxury cannot be
  • deemed an expensive one.
  • The fish were delicious; the manner of cooking them in the ground
  • preserving all the juices, and rendering them exceedingly sweet and
  • tender. The plantain pudding was almost cloying; the cakes of Indian
  • turnip, quite palatable; and the roasted bread-fruit, crisp as toast.
  • During the meal, a native lad walked round and round the party,
  • carrying a long staff of bamboo. This he occasionally tapped upon the
  • cloth, before each guest; when a white clotted substance dropped
  • forth, with a savour not unlike that of a curd. This proved to be
  • "Lownee," an excellent relish, prepared from the grated meat of ripe
  • cocoa-nuts, moistened with cocoa-nut milk and salt water, and kept
  • perfectly tight until a little past the saccharine stage of
  • fermentation.
  • Throughout the repast there was much lively chatting among the
  • islanders, in which their conversational powers quite exceeded ours.
  • The young ladies, too, showed themselves very expert in the use of
  • their tongues, and contributed much to the gaiety which prevailed.
  • Nor did these lively nymphs suffer the meal to languish; for upon the
  • doctor's throwing himself back, with an air of much satisfaction,
  • they sprang to their feet, and pelted him with oranges and guavas.
  • This, at last, put an end to the entertainment.
  • By a hundred whimsical oddities, my long friend became a great
  • favourite with these people; and they bestowed upon him a long,
  • comical title, expressive of his lank figure and Koora combined. The
  • latter, by the bye, never failed to excite the remark of everybody we
  • encountered.
  • The giving of nicknames is quite a passion with the people of Tahiti
  • and Imeeo. No one with any peculiarity, whether of person or temper,
  • is exempt; not even strangers.
  • A pompous captain of a man-of-war, visiting Tahiti for the second
  • time, discovered that, among the natives, he went by the dignified
  • title of "Atee Poee"--literally, Poee Head, or Pudding Head. Nor is
  • the highest rank among themselves any protection. The first husband
  • of the present queen was commonly known in the court circles as "Pot
  • Belly." He carried the greater part of his person before him, to be
  • sure; and so did the gentlemanly George IV.--but what a title for a
  • king consort!
  • Even "Pomaree" itself, the royal patronymic, was, originally, a mere
  • nickname; and literally signifies, one talking through his nose. The
  • first monarch of that name, being on a war party, and sleeping
  • overnight among the mountains, awoke one morning with a cold in his
  • head; and some wag of a courtier had no more manners than to
  • vulgarize him thus.
  • How different from the volatile Polynesian in this, as in all other
  • respects, is our grave and decorous North American Indian. While the
  • former bestows a name in accordance with some humorous or ignoble
  • trait, the latter seizes upon what is deemed the most exalted or
  • warlike: and hence, among the red tribes, we have the truly patrician
  • appellations of "White Eagles," "Young Oaks," "Fiery Eyes," and
  • "Bended Bows."
  • CHAPTER LXIX.
  • THE COCOA-PALM
  • WHILE the doctor and the natives were taking a digestive nap after
  • dinner, I strolled forth to have a peep at the country which could
  • produce so generous a meal.
  • To my surprise, a fine strip of land in the vicinity of the hamlet,
  • and protected seaward by a grove of cocoa-nut and bread-fruit trees,
  • was under high cultivation. Sweet potatoes, Indian turnips, and yams
  • were growing; also melons, a few pine-apples, and other fruits. Still
  • more pleasing was the sight of young bread-fruit and cocoa-nut trees
  • set out with great care, as if, for once, the improvident Polynesian
  • had thought of his posterity. But this was the only instance of native
  • thrift which ever came under my observation. For, in all my rambles
  • over Tahiti and Imeeo, nothing so much struck me as the comparative
  • scarcity of these trees in many places where they ought to abound.
  • Entire valleys, like Martair, of inexhaustible fertility are
  • abandoned to all the rankness of untamed vegetation. Alluvial flats
  • bordering the sea, and watered by streams from the mountains, are
  • over-grown with a wild, scrub guava-bush, introduced by foreigners,
  • and which spreads with such fatal rapidity that the natives, standing
  • still while it grows, anticipate its covering the entire island. Even
  • tracts of clear land, which, with so little pains, might be made to
  • wave with orchards, lie wholly neglected.
  • When I considered their unequalled soil and climate, thus
  • unaccountably slighted, I often turned in amazement upon the natives
  • about Papeetee; some of whom all but starve in their gardens run to
  • waste. Upon other islands which I have visited, of similar fertility,
  • and wholly unreclaimed from their first-discovered condition, no
  • spectacle of this sort was presented.
  • The high estimation in which many of their fruit-trees are held by the
  • Tahitians and Imeeose--their beauty in the landscape--their manifold
  • uses, and the facility with which they are propagated, are
  • considerations which render the remissness alluded to still more
  • unaccountable. The cocoa-palm is as an example; a tree by far the
  • most important production of Nature in the Tropics. To the
  • Polynesians it is emphatically the Tree of Life; transcending even
  • the bread-fruit in the multifarious uses to which it is applied.
  • Its very aspect is imposing. Asserting its supremacy by an erect and
  • lofty bearing, it may be said to compare with other trees as man with
  • inferior creatures.
  • The blessings it confers are incalculable. Year after year, the
  • islander reposes beneath its shade, both eating and drinking of its
  • fruit; he thatches his hut with its boughs, and weaves them into
  • baskets to carry his food; he cools himself with a fan platted from
  • the young leaflets, and shields his head from the sun by a bonnet of
  • the leaves; sometimes he clothes himself with the cloth-like
  • substance which wraps round the base of the stalks, whose elastic
  • rods, strung with filberts, are used as a taper; the larger nuts,
  • thinned and polished, furnish him with a beautiful goblet: the
  • smaller ones, with bowls for his pipes; the dry husks kindle his
  • fires; their fibres are twisted into fishing-lines and cords for his
  • canoes; he heals his wounds with a balsam compounded from the juice
  • of the nut; and with the oil extracted from its meat embalms the
  • bodies of the dead.
  • The noble trunk itself is far from being valueless. Sawn into posts,
  • it upholds the islander's dwelling; converted into charcoal, it cooks
  • his food; and supported on blocks of stone, rails in his lands. He
  • impels his canoe through the water with a paddle of the wood, and
  • goes to battle with clubs and spears of the same hard material.
  • In pagan Tahiti a cocoa-nut branch was the symbol of regal authority.
  • Laid upon the sacrifice in the temple, it made the offering sacred;
  • and with it the priests chastised and put to flight the evil spirits
  • which assailed them. The supreme majesty of Oro, the great god of
  • their mythology, was declared in the cocoa-nut log from which his
  • image was rudely carved. Upon one of the Tonga Islands, there stands
  • a living tree revered itself as a deity. Even upon the Sandwich
  • Islands, the cocoa-palm retains all its ancient reputation; the
  • people there having thought of adopting it as the national emblem.
  • The cocoa-nut is planted as follows: Selecting a suitable place, you
  • drop into the ground a fully ripe nut, and leave it. In a few days, a
  • thin, lance-like shoot forces itself through a minute hole in the
  • shell, pierces the husk, and soon unfolds three pale-green leaves in
  • the air; while originating, in the same soft white sponge which now
  • completely fills the nut, a pair of fibrous roots, pushing away the
  • stoppers which close two holes in an opposite direction, penetrate
  • the shell, and strike vertically into the ground. A day or two more,
  • and the shell and husk, which, in the last and germinating stage of
  • the nut, are so hard that a knife will scarcely make any impression,
  • spontaneously burst by some force within; and, henceforth, the hardy
  • young plant thrives apace; and needing no culture, pruning, or
  • attention of any sort, rapidly advances to maturity. In four or five
  • years it bears; in twice as many more, it begins to lift its head
  • among the groves, where, waxing strong, it flourishes for near a
  • century.
  • Thus, as some voyager has said, the man who but drops one of these
  • nuts into the ground may be said to confer a greater and more certain
  • benefit upon himself and posterity than many a life's toil in less
  • genial climes.
  • The fruitfulness of the tree is remarkable. As long as it lives it
  • bears, and without intermission. Two hundred nuts, besides
  • innumerable white blossoms of others, may be seen upon it at one
  • time; and though a whole year is required to bring any one of them to
  • the germinating point, no two, perhaps, are at one time in precisely
  • the same stage of growth.
  • The tree delights in a maritime situation. In its greatest perfection,
  • it is perhaps found right on the seashore, where its roots are
  • actually washed. But such instances are only met with upon islands
  • where the swell of the sea is prevented from breaking on the beach by
  • an encircling reef. No saline flavour is perceptible in the nut
  • produced in such a place. Although it bears in any soil, whether
  • upland or bottom, it does not flourish vigorously inland; and I have
  • frequently observed that, when met with far up the valley, its tall
  • stem inclines seaward, as if pining after a more genial region.
  • It is a curious fact that if you deprive the cocoa-nut tree of the
  • verdant tuft at its head, it dies at once; and if allowed to stand
  • thus, the trunk, which, when alive, is encased in so hard a bark as
  • to be almost impervious to a bullet, moulders away, and, in an
  • incredibly short period, becomes dust. This is, perhaps, partly owing
  • to the peculiar constitution of the trunk, a mere cylinder of minute
  • hollow reeds, closely packed, and very hard; but, when exposed at
  • top, peculiarly fitted to convey moisture and decay through the
  • entire stem.
  • The finest orchard of cocoa-palms I know, and the only plantation of
  • them I ever saw at the islands, is one that stands right upon the
  • southern shore of Papeetee Bay. They were set out by the first
  • Pomaree, almost half a century ago; and the soil being especially
  • adapted to their growth, the noble trees now form a magnificent
  • grove, nearly a mile in extent. No other plant, scarcely a bush, is
  • to be seen within its precincts. The Broom Road passes through its
  • entire length.
  • At noonday, this grove is one of the most beautiful, serene, witching
  • places that ever was seen. High overhead are ranges of green rustling
  • arches; through which the sun's rays come down to you in sparkles.
  • You seem to be wandering through illimitable halls of pillars;
  • everywhere you catch glimpses of stately aisles, intersecting each
  • other at all points. A strange silence, too, reigns far and near; the
  • air flushed with the mellow stillness of a sunset.
  • But after the long morning calms, the sea-breeze comes in; and
  • creeping over the tops of these thousand trees, they nod their
  • plumes. Soon the breeze freshens; and you hear the branches brushing
  • against each other; and the flexible trunks begin to sway. Toward
  • evening the whole grove is rocking to and fro; and the traveller on
  • the Broom Road is startled by the frequent falling of the nuts,
  • snapped from their brittle stems. They come flying through the air,
  • ringing like jugglers' balls; and often bound along the ground for
  • many rods.
  • CHAPTER LXX.
  • LIFE AT LOOHOOLOO
  • FINDING the society at Loohooloo very pleasant, the young ladies, in
  • particular, being extremely sociable; and, moreover, in love with the
  • famous good cheer of old Marharvai, we acquiesced in an invitation of
  • his to tarry a few days longer. We might then, he said, join a small
  • canoe party which was going to a place a league or two distant. So
  • averse to all exertion are these people that they really thought the
  • prospect of thus getting rid of a few miles' walking would prevail
  • with us, even if there were no other inducement.
  • The people of the hamlet, as we soon discovered, formed a snug little
  • community of cousins; of which our host seemed the head. Marharvai,
  • in truth, was a petty chief who owned the neighbouring lands. And as
  • the wealthy, in most cases, rejoice in a numerous kindred, the family
  • footing upon which everybody visited him was, perhaps, ascribable to
  • the fact of his being the lord of the manor. Like Captain Bob, he was,
  • in some things, a gentleman of the old school--a stickler for the
  • customs of a past and pagan age.
  • Nowhere else, except in Tamai, did we find the manners of the natives
  • less vitiated by recent changes. The old-fashioned Tahitian dinner
  • they gave us on the day of our arrival was a fair sample of their
  • general mode of living.
  • Our time passed delightfully. The doctor went his way, and I mine.
  • With a pleasant companion, he was forever strolling inland,
  • ostensibly to collect botanical specimens; while I, for the most
  • part, kept near the sea; sometimes taking the girls on an aquatic
  • excursion in a canoe.
  • Often we went fishing; not dozing over stupid hooks and lines, but
  • leaping right into the water, and chasing our prey over the coral
  • rocks, spear in hand.
  • Spearing fish is glorious sport. The Imeeose, all round the island,
  • catch them in no other way. The smooth shallows between the reef and
  • the shore, and, at low water, the reef itself, being admirably
  • adapted to this mode of capturing them. At almost any time of the
  • day--save ever the sacred hour of noon--you may see the fish-hunters
  • pursuing their sport; with loud halloos, brandishing their spears, and
  • splashing through the water in all directions. Sometimes a solitary
  • native is seen, far out upon a lonely shallow, wading slowly along,
  • with eye intent and poised spear.
  • But the best sport of all is going out upon the great reef itself by
  • torch-light. The natives follow this recreation with as much spirit
  • as a gentleman of England does the chase; and take full as much
  • delight in it.
  • The torch is nothing more than a bunch of dry reeds, bound firmly
  • together: the spear, a long, light pole, with an iron head, on one
  • side barbed.
  • I shall never forget the night that old Marharvai and the rest of us,
  • paddling off to the reef, leaped at midnight upon the coral ledges
  • with waving torches and spears. We were more than a mile from the
  • land; the sullen ocean, thundering upon the outside of the rocks,
  • dashed the spray in our faces, almost extinguishing the flambeaux;
  • and, far as the eye could reach, the darkness of sky and water was
  • streaked with a long, misty line of foam, marking the course of the
  • coral barrier. The wild fishermen, flourishing their weapons, and
  • yelling like so many demons to scare their prey, sprang from ledge to
  • ledge, and sometimes darted their spears in the very midst of the
  • breakers.
  • But fish-spearing was not the only sport we had at Loohooloo. Right on
  • the beach was a mighty old cocoa-nut tree, the roots of which had
  • been underwashed by the waves so that the trunk inclined far over its
  • base. From the tuft of the tree a stout cord of bark depended, the
  • end of which swept the water several yards from the shore. This was a
  • Tahitian swing. A native lad seizes hold of the cord, and, after
  • swinging to and fro quite leisurely, all at once sends himself fifty
  • or sixty feet from the water, rushing through the air like a rocket.
  • I doubt whether any of our rope-dancers would attempt the feat. For
  • my own part, I had neither head nor heart for it; so, after sending a
  • lad aloft with an additional cord, by way of security, I constructed a
  • large basket of green boughs, in which I and some particular friends
  • of mine used to swing over sea and land by the hour.
  • CHAPTER LXXI.
  • WE START FOR TALOO
  • BRIGHT was the morning, and brighter still the smiles of the young
  • ladies who accompanied us, when we sprang into a sort of family
  • canoe--wide and roomy--and bade adieu to the hospitable Marharvai and
  • his tenantry. As we paddled away, they stood upon the beach, waving their
  • hands, and crying out, "aroha! aroha!" (farewell! farewell!) as long
  • as we were within hearing.
  • Very sad at parting with them, we endeavoured, nevertheless, to
  • console ourselves in the society of our fellow-passengers. Among
  • these were two old ladies; but as they said nothing to us, we will
  • say nothing about them; nor anything about the old men who managed
  • the canoe. But of the three mischievous, dark-eyed young witches who
  • lounged in the stern of that comfortable old island gondola, I have a
  • great deal to say.
  • In the first place, one of them was Marhar-Rarrar, the Bright-Eyed;
  • and, in the second place, neither she nor the romps, her companions,
  • ever dreamed of taking the voyage until the doctor and myself
  • announced our intention; their going along was nothing more than a
  • madcap frolic; in short, they were a parcel of wicked hoydens, bent
  • on mischief, who laughed in your face when you looked sentimental, and
  • only tolerated your company when making merry at your expense.
  • Something or other about us was perpetually awaking their mirth.
  • Attributing this to his own remarkable figure, the doctor increased
  • their enjoyment by assuming the part of a Merry Andrew. Yet his cap
  • and bells never jingled but to some tune; and while playing the
  • Tom-fool, I more than suspected that he was trying to play the rake.
  • At home, it is deemed auspicious to go a-wooing in epaulets; but
  • among the Polynesians, your best dress in courting is motley.
  • A fresh breeze springing up, we set our sail of matting, and glided
  • along as tranquilly as if floating upon an inland stream; the white
  • reef on one hand, and the green shore on the other.
  • Soon, as we turned a headland, we encountered another canoe, paddling
  • with might and main in an opposite direction; the strangers shouting
  • to each other, and a tall fellow in the bow dancing up and down like
  • a crazy man. They shot by us like an arrow, though our fellow-voyagers
  • shouted again and again for them to cease paddling.
  • According to the natives, this was a kind of royal mail-canoe,
  • carrying a message from the queen to her friends in a distant part of
  • the island.
  • Passing several shady bowers which looked quite inviting, we proposed
  • touching, and diversifying the monotony of a sea-voyage by a stroll
  • ashore. So, forcing our canoe among the bushes, behind a decayed palm
  • lying partly in the water, we left the old folks to take a nap in the
  • shade, and gallanted the others among the trees, which were here
  • trellised with vines and creeping shrubs.
  • In the early part of the afternoon, we drew near the place to which
  • the party were going. It was a solitary house inhabited by four or
  • five old women, who, when we entered, were gathered in a circle about
  • the mats, eating poee from a cracked calabash. They seemed delighted
  • at seeing our companions, but rather drew up when introduced to
  • ourselves. Eyeing us distrustfully, they whispered to know who we
  • were. The answers they received were not satisfactory; for they
  • treated us with marked coolness and reserve, and seemed desirous of
  • breaking off our acquaintance with the girls. Unwilling, therefore,
  • to stay where our company was disagreeable, we resolved to depart
  • without even eating a meal.
  • Informed of this, Marhar-Rarrar and her companions evinced the most
  • lively concern; and equally unmindful of their former spirits, and
  • the remonstrances of the old ladies, broke forth into sobs and
  • lamentations which were not to be withstood. We agreed, therefore, to
  • tarry until they left for home; which would be at the "Aheharar," or
  • Falling of the Sun; in other words, at sunset.
  • When the hour arrived, after much leave-taking, we saw them safely
  • embarked. As the canoe turned a bluff, they seized the paddles from
  • the hands of the old men, and waved them silently in the air. This
  • was meant for a touching farewell, as the paddle is only waved thus
  • when the parties separating never more expect to meet.
  • We now continued our journey; and, following the beach, soon came to a
  • level and lofty overhanging bank, which, planted here and there with
  • trees, took a broad sweep round a considerable part of the island.
  • A fine pathway skirted the edge of the bank; and often we paused to
  • admire the scenery. The evening was still and fair, even for so
  • heavenly a climate; and all round, as far as the eye could reach, was
  • the blending blue sky and ocean.
  • As we went on, the reef-belt still accompanied us; turning as we
  • turned, and thundering its distant bass upon the ear, like the
  • unbroken roar of a cataract. Dashing forever against their coral
  • rampart, the breakers looked, in the distance, like a line of rearing
  • white chargers, reined in, tossing their white manes, and bridling
  • with foam.
  • These great natural breakwaters are admirably designed for the
  • protection of the land. Nearly all the Society Islands are defended
  • by them. Were the vast swells of the Pacific to break against the
  • soft alluvial bottoms which in many places border the sea, the soil
  • would soon be washed away, and the natives be thus deprived of their
  • most productive lands. As it is, the banks of no rivulet are firmer.
  • But the coral barriers answer another purpose. They form all the
  • harbours of this group, including the twenty-four round about the
  • shores of Tahiti. Curiously enough, the openings in the reefs, by
  • which alone vessels enter to their anchorage, are invariably opposite
  • the mouths of running streams: an advantage fully appreciated by the
  • mariner who touches for the purpose of watering his ship.
  • It is said that the fresh water of the land, mixing with the salts
  • held in solution by the sea, so acts upon the latter as to resist the
  • formation of the coral; and hence the breaks. Here and there, these
  • openings are sentinelled, as it were, by little fairy islets, green
  • as emerald, and waving with palms. Strangely and beautifully
  • diversifying the long line of breakers, no objects can strike the
  • fancy more vividly. Pomaree II., with a taste in watering-places
  • truly Tahitian, selected one of them as a royal retreat. We passed it
  • on our journey.
  • Omitting several further adventures which befell us after leaving the
  • party from Loohooloo, we must now hurry on to relate what happened
  • just before reaching the place of our destination.
  • CHAPTER LXXII.
  • A DEALER IN THE CONTRABAND
  • IT MUST have been at least the tenth day, reckoning from the Hegira,
  • that we found ourselves the guests of Varvy, an old hermit of an
  • islander who kept house by himself perhaps a couple of leagues from
  • Taloo.
  • A stone's-cast from the beach there was a fantastic rock, moss-grown
  • and deep in a dell. It was insulated by a shallow brook, which,
  • dividing its waters, flowed on both sides until united below.
  • Twisting its roots round the rock, a gnarled "Aoa" spread itself
  • overhead in a wilderness of foliage; the elastic branch-roots
  • depending from the larger boughs insinuating themselves into every
  • cleft, thus forming supports to the parent stem. In some places these
  • pendulous branches, half-grown, had not yet reached the rock;
  • swinging their loose fibrous ends in the air like whiplashes.
  • Varvy's hut, a mere coop of bamboos, was perched upon a level part of
  • the rock, the ridge-pole resting at one end in a crotch of the "Aoa,"
  • and the other propped by a forked bough planted in a fissure.
  • Notwithstanding our cries as we drew near, the first hint the old
  • hermit received of our approach was the doctor's stepping up and
  • touching his shoulder, as he was kneeling over on a stone cleaning
  • fish in the brook. He leaped up, and stared at us. But with a variety
  • of uncouth gestures, he soon made us welcome; informing us, by the
  • same means, that he was both deaf and dumb; he then motioned us into
  • his dwelling.
  • Going in, we threw ourselves upon an old mat, and peered round. The
  • soiled bamboos and calabashes looked so uninviting that the doctor
  • was for pushing on to Taloo that night, notwithstanding it was near
  • sunset. But at length we concluded to stay where we were.
  • After a good deal of bustling outside under a decrepit shed, the old
  • man made his appearance with our supper. In one hand he held a
  • flickering taper, and in the other, a huge, flat calabash, scantily
  • filled with viands. His eyes were dancing in his head, and he looked
  • from the calabash to us, and from us to the calabash, as much as to
  • say, "Ah, my lads, what do ye think of this, eh? Pretty good cheer,
  • eh?" But the fish and Indian turnip being none of the best, we made
  • but a sorry meal. While discussing it, the old man tried hard to make
  • himself understood by signs; most of which were so excessively
  • ludicrous that we made no doubt he was perpetrating a series of
  • pantomimic jokes.
  • The remnants of the feast removed, our host left us for a moment,
  • returning with a calabash of portly dimensions and furnished with a
  • long, hooked neck, the mouth of which was stopped with a wooden plug.
  • It was covered with particles of earth, and looked as if just taken
  • from some place underground.
  • With sundry winks and horrible giggles peculiar to the dumb, the
  • vegetable demijohn was now tapped; the old fellow looking round
  • cautiously, and pointing at it; as much as to intimate that it
  • contained something which was "taboo," or forbidden.
  • Aware that intoxicating liquors were strictly prohibited to the
  • natives, we now watched our entertainer with much interest. Charging
  • a cocoa-nut shell, he tossed it off, and then filling up again,
  • presented the goblet to me. Disliking the smell, I made faces at it;
  • upon which he became highly excited; so much so that a miracle was
  • wrought upon the spot. Snatching the cup from my hands, he shouted
  • out, "Ah, karhowree sabbee lee-lee ena arva tee maitai!" in other
  • words, what a blockhead of a white man! this is the real stuff!
  • We could not have been more startled had a frog leaped from his mouth.
  • For an instant, he looked confused enough himself; and then placing a
  • finger mysteriously upon his mouth, he contrived to make us
  • understand that at times he was subject to a suspension of the powers
  • of speech.
  • Deeming the phenomenon a remarkable one, every way, the doctor desired
  • him to open his mouth so that he might have a look down. But he
  • refused.
  • This occurrence made us rather suspicious of our host; nor could we
  • afterward account for his conduct, except by supposing that his
  • feigning dumbness might in some way or other assist him in the
  • nefarious pursuits in which it afterwards turned out that he was
  • engaged. This conclusion, however, was not altogether satisfactory.
  • To oblige him, we at last took a sip of his "arva tee," and found it
  • very crude, and strong as Lucifer. Curious to know whence it was
  • obtained, we questioned him; when, lighting up with pleasure, he
  • seized the taper, and led us outside the hut, bidding us follow.
  • After going some distance through the woods, we came to a dismantled
  • old shed of boughs, apparently abandoned to decay. Underneath,
  • nothing was to be seen but heaps of decaying leaves and an immense,
  • clumsy jar, wide-mouthed, and by some means, rudely hollowed out from
  • a ponderous stone.
  • Here, for a while, we were left to ourselves; the old man placing the
  • light in the jar, and then disappearing. He returned, carrying a
  • long, large bamboo, and a crotched stick. Throwing these down, he
  • poked under a pile of rubbish, and brought out a rough block of wood,
  • pierced through and through with a hole, which was immediately
  • clapped on the top of the jar. Then planting the crotched stick
  • upright about two yards distant, and making it sustain one end of the
  • bamboo, he inserted the other end of the latter into the hole in the
  • block: concluding these arrangements by placing an old calabash under
  • the farther end of the bamboo.
  • Coming up to us now with a sly, significant look, and pointing
  • admiringly at his apparatus, he exclaimed, "Ah, karhowree, ena
  • hannahanna arva tee!" as much as to say, "This, you see, is the way
  • it's done."
  • His contrivance was nothing less than a native still, where he
  • manufactured his island "poteen." The disarray in which we found it
  • was probably intentional, as a security against detection. Before we
  • left the shed, the old fellow toppled the whole concern over, and
  • dragged it away piecemeal.
  • His disclosing his secret to us thus was characteristic of the "Tootai
  • Owrees," or contemners of the missionaries among the natives; who,
  • presuming that all foreigners are opposed to the ascendancy of the
  • missionaries, take pleasure in making them confidants, whenever the
  • enactments of their rulers are secretly set at nought.
  • The substance from which the liquor is produced is called "Tee," which
  • is a large, fibrous root, something like yam, but smaller. In its
  • green state, it is exceedingly acrid; but boiled or baked, has the
  • sweetness of the sugar-cane. After being subjected to the fire,
  • macerated and reduced to a certain stage of fermentation, the "Tee"
  • is stirred up with water, and is then ready for distillation.
  • On returning to the hut, pipes were introduced; and, after a while,
  • Long Ghost, who, at first, had relished the "Arva Tee" as little as
  • myself, to my surprise, began to wax sociable over it, with Varvy;
  • and, before long, absolutely got mellow, the old toper keeping him
  • company.
  • It was a curious sight. Everyone knows that, so long as the occasion
  • lasts, there is no stronger bond of sympathy and good feeling among
  • men than getting tipsy together. And how earnestly, nay, movingly, a
  • brace of worthies, thus employed, will endeavour to shed light upon,
  • and elucidate their mystical ideas!
  • Fancy Varvy and the doctor, then, lovingly tippling, and brimming over
  • with a desire to become better acquainted; the doctor politely bent
  • upon carrying on the conversation in the language of his host, and
  • the old hermit persisting in trying to talk English. The result was
  • that, between the two, they made such a fricassee of vowels and
  • consonants that it was enough to turn one's brain.
  • The next morning, on waking, I heard a voice from the tombs. It was
  • the doctor solemnly pronouncing himself a dead man. He was sitting
  • up, with both hands clasped over his forehead, and his pale face a
  • thousand times paler than ever.
  • "That infernal stuff has murdered me!" he cried. "Heavens! my head's
  • all wheels and springs, like the automaton chess-player! What's to be
  • done, Paul? I'm poisoned."
  • But, after drinking a herbal draught concocted by our host, and eating
  • a light meal, at noon, he felt much better; so much so that he
  • declared himself ready to continue our journey.
  • When we came to start, the Yankee's boots were missing; and, after a
  • diligent search, were not to be found. Enraged beyond measure, their
  • proprietor said that Varvy must have stolen them; but, considering
  • his hospitality, I thought this extremely improbable; though to whom
  • else to impute the theft I knew not. The doctor maintained, however,
  • that one who was capable of drugging an innocent traveller with "Arva
  • Tee" was capable of anything.
  • But it was in vain that he stormed, and Varvy and I searched; the
  • boots were gone.
  • Were it not for this mysterious occurrence, and Varvy's detestable
  • liquors, I would here recommend all travellers going round by the
  • beach to Partoowye to stop at the Rock, and patronize the old
  • gentleman--the more especially as he entertains gratis.
  • CHAPTER LXXIII.
  • OUR RECEPTION IN PARTOOWYE
  • UPON starting, at last, I flung away my sandals--by this time quite
  • worn out--with the view of keeping company with the doctor, now
  • forced to go barefooted. Recovering his spirits in good time, he
  • protested that boots were a bore after all, and going without them
  • decidedly manly.
  • This was said, be it observed, while strolling along over a soft
  • carpet of grass; a little moist, even at midday, from the shade of
  • the wood through which we were passing.
  • Emerging from this we entered upon a blank, sandy tract, upon which
  • the sun's rays fairly flashed; making the loose gravel under foot
  • well nigh as hot as the floor of an oven. Such yelling and leaping as
  • there was in getting over this ground would be hard to surpass. We
  • could not have crossed at all--until toward sunset--had it not been
  • for a few small, wiry bushes growing here and there, into which we
  • every now and then thrust our feet to cool. There was no little
  • judgment necessary in selecting your bush; for if not chosen
  • judiciously, the chances were that, on springing forward again, and
  • finding the next bush so far off that an intermediate cooling was
  • indispensable, you would have to run back to your old place again.
  • Safely passing the Sahara, or Fiery Desert, we soothed our
  • half-blistered feet by a pleasant walk through a meadow of long
  • grass, which soon brought us in sight of a few straggling houses,
  • sheltered by a grove on the outskirts of the village of Partoowye.
  • My comrade was for entering the first one we came to; but, on drawing
  • near, they had so much of an air of pretension, at least for native
  • dwellings, that I hesitated; thinking they might be the residences of
  • the higher chiefs, from whom no very extravagant welcome was to be
  • anticipated.
  • While standing irresolute, a voice from the nearest house hailed us:
  • "Aramai! aramai, karhowree!" (Come in! come in, strangers!)
  • We at once entered, and were warmly greeted. The master of the house
  • was an aristocratic-looking islander, dressed in loose linen drawers,
  • a fine white shirt, and a sash of red silk tied about the waist,
  • after the fashion of the Spaniards in Chili. He came up to us with a
  • free, frank air, and, striking his chest with his hand, introduced
  • himself as Ereemear Po-Po; or, to render the Christian name back again
  • into English--Jeremiah Po-Po.
  • These curious combinations of names among the people of the Society
  • Islands originate in the following way. When a native is baptized,
  • his patronymic often gives offence to the missionaries, and they
  • insist upon changing to something else whatever is objectionable
  • therein. So, when Jeremiah came to the font, and gave his name as
  • Narmo-Nana Po-Po (something equivalent to The-Darer-of-Devils-by-Night),
  • the reverend gentleman officiating told him that such a heathenish
  • appellation would never do, and a substitute must be had; at least
  • for the devil part of it. Some highly respectable Christian
  • appellations were then submitted, from which the candidate for
  • admission into the church was at liberty to choose. There was Adamo
  • (Adam), Nooar (Noah), Daveedar (David), Earcobar (James), Eorna (John),
  • Patoora (Peter), Ereemear (Jeremiah), etc. And thus did he come to
  • be named Jeremiah Po-Po; or, Jeremiah-in-the-Dark--which he certainly
  • was, I fancy, as to the ridiculousness of his new cognomen.
  • We gave our names in return; upon which he bade us be seated; and,
  • sitting down himself, asked us a great many questions, in mixed
  • English and Tahitian. After giving some directions to an old man to
  • prepare food, our host's wife, a large, benevolent-looking woman,
  • upwards of forty, also sat down by us. In our soiled and
  • travel-stained appearance, the good lady seemed to find abundant
  • matter for commiseration; and all the while kept looking at us
  • piteously, and making mournful exclamations.
  • But Jeremiah and his spouse were not the only inmates of the mansion.
  • In one corner, upon a large native couch, elevated upon posts,
  • reclined a nymph; who, half-veiled in her own long hair, had yet to
  • make her toilet for the day. She was the daughter of Po-Po; and a
  • very beautiful little daughter she was; not more than fourteen; with
  • the most delightful shape--like a bud just blown; and large hazel
  • eyes. They called her Loo; a name rather pretty and genteel, and
  • therefore quite appropriate; for a more genteel and lady-like little
  • damsel there was not in all Imeeo.
  • She was a cold and haughty young beauty though, this same little Loo,
  • and never deigned to notice us; further than now and then to let her
  • eyes float over our persons, with an expression of indolent
  • indifference. With the tears of the Loohooloo girls hardly dry from
  • their sobbing upon our shoulders, this contemptuous treatment stung
  • us not a little.
  • When we first entered, Po-Po was raking smooth the carpet of dried
  • ferns which had that morning been newly laid; and now that our meal
  • was ready, it was spread on a banana leaf, right upon this fragrant
  • floor. Here we lounged at our ease, eating baked pig and breadfruit
  • off earthen plates, and using, for the first time in many a long
  • month, real knives and forks.
  • These, as well as other symptoms of refinement, somewhat abated our
  • surprise at the reserve of the little Loo; her parents, doubtless,
  • were magnates in Partoowye, and she herself was an heiress.
  • After being informed of our stay in the vale of Martair, they were
  • very curious to know on what errand we came to Taloo. We merely
  • hinted that the ship lying in the harbour was the reason of our
  • coming.
  • Arfretee, Po-Po's wife, was a right motherly body. The meal over, she
  • recommended a nap; and upon our waking much refreshed, she led us to
  • the doorway, and pointed down among the trees; through which we saw
  • the gleam of water. Taking the hint, we repaired thither; and finding
  • a deep shaded pool, bathed, and returned to the house. Our hostess
  • now sat down by us; and after looking with great interest at the
  • doctor's cloak, felt of my own soiled and tattered garments for the
  • hundredth time, and exclaimed plaintively--"Ah nuee nuee olee manee!
  • olee manee!" (Alas! they are very, very old! very old!)
  • When Arfretee, good soul, thus addressed us, she thought she was
  • talking very respectable English. The word "nuee" is so familiar to
  • foreigners throughout Polynesia, and is so often used by them in
  • their intercourse with the natives, that the latter suppose it to be
  • common to all mankind. "Olee manee" is the native pronunciation of
  • "old man," which, by Society Islanders talking Saxon, is applied
  • indiscriminately to all aged things and persons whatsoever.
  • Going to a chest filled with various European articles, she took out
  • two suits of new sailor frocks and trousers; and presenting them with
  • a gracious smile, pushed us behind a calico screen, and left us.
  • Without any fastidious scruples, we donned the garments; and what
  • with the meal, the nap, and the bath, we now came forth like a couple
  • of bridegrooms.
  • Evening drawing on, lamps were lighted. They were very simple; the
  • half of a green melon, about one third full of cocoa-nut oil, and a
  • wick of twisted tappa floating on the surface. As a night lamp, this
  • contrivance cannot be excelled; a soft dreamy light being shed
  • through the transparent rind.
  • As the evening advanced, other members of the household, whom as yet
  • we had not seen, began to drop in. There was a slender young dandy in
  • a gay striped shirt, and whole fathoms of bright figured calico
  • tucked about his waist, and falling to the ground. He wore a new
  • straw hat also with three distinct ribbons tied about the crown; one
  • black, one green, and one pink. Shoes or stockings, however, he had
  • none.
  • There were a couple of delicate, olive-cheeked little
  • girls--twins--with mild eyes and beautiful hair, who ran about the
  • house, half-naked, like a couple of gazelles. They had a brother,
  • somewhat younger--a fine dark boy, with an eye like a woman's. All
  • these were the children of Po-Po, begotten in lawful wedlock.
  • Then there were two or three queer-looking old ladies, who wore shabby
  • mantles of soiled sheeting, which fitted so badly, and withal had
  • such a second-hand look that I at once put their wearers down as
  • domestic paupers--poor relations, supported by the bounty of My Lady
  • Arfretee. They were sad, meek old bodies; said little and ate less;
  • and either kept their eyes on the ground, or lifted them up
  • deferentially. The semi-civilization of the island must have had
  • something to do with making them what they were.
  • I had almost forgotten Monee, the grinning old man who prepared our
  • meal. His head was a shining, bald globe. He had a round little
  • paunch, and legs like a cat. He was Po-Po's factotum--cook, butler,
  • and climber of the bread-fruit and cocoa-nut trees; and, added to all
  • else, a mighty favourite with his mistress; with whom he would sit
  • smoking and gossiping by the hour.
  • Often you saw the indefatigable Monee working away at a great rate;
  • then dropping his employment all at once--never mind what--run off to
  • a little distance, and after rolling himself away in a corner and
  • taking a nap, jump up again, and fall to with fresh vigour.
  • From a certain something in the behaviour of Po-Po and his household,
  • I was led to believe that he was a pillar of the church; though, from
  • what I had seen in Tahiti, I could hardly reconcile such a
  • supposition with his frank, cordial, unembarrassed air. But I was
  • not wrong in my conjecture: Po-Po turned out to be a sort of elder,
  • or deacon; he was also accounted a man of wealth, and was nearly
  • related to a high chief.
  • Before retiring, the entire household gathered upon the floor; and in
  • their midst, he read aloud a chapter from a Tahitian Bible. Then
  • kneeling with the rest of us, he offered up a prayer. Upon its
  • conclusion, all separated without speaking. These devotions took
  • place regularly, every night and morning. Grace too was invariably
  • said, by this family, both before and after eating.
  • After becoming familiarized with the almost utter destitution of
  • anything like practical piety upon these islands, what I observed in
  • our host's house astonished me much. But whatever others might have
  • been, Po-Po was, in truth, a Christian: the only one, Arfretee
  • excepted, whom I personally knew to be such, among all the natives of
  • Polynesia.
  • CHAPTER LXXIV.
  • RETIRING FOR THE NIGHT--THE DOCTOR GROWS DEVOUT
  • THEY put us to bed very pleasantly.
  • Lying across the foot of Po-Po's nuptial couch was a smaller one made
  • of Koar-wood; a thin, strong cord, twisted from the fibres of the
  • husk of the cocoa-nut, and woven into an exceedingly light sort of
  • network, forming its elastic body. Spread upon this was a single,
  • fine mat, with a roll of dried ferns for a pillow, and a strip of
  • white tappa for a sheet. This couch was mine. The doctor was provided
  • for in another corner.
  • Loo reposed alone on a little settee with a taper burning by her side;
  • the dandy, her brother, swinging overhead in a sailor's hammock The
  • two gazelles frisked upon a mat near by; and the indigent relations
  • borrowed a scant corner of the old butler's pallet, who snored away
  • by the open door. After all had retired, Po-Po placed the illuminated
  • melon in the middle of the apartment; and so, we all slumbered till
  • morning.
  • Upon awaking, the sun was streaming brightly through the open bamboos,
  • but no one was stirring. After surveying the fine attitudes into
  • which forgetfulness had thrown at least one of the sleepers, my
  • attention was called off to the general aspect of the dwelling, which
  • was quite significant of the superior circumstances of our host.
  • The house itself was built in the simple, but tasteful native style.
  • It was a long, regular oval, some fifty feet in length, with low
  • sides of cane-work, and a roof thatched with palmetto-leaves. The
  • ridgepole was, perhaps, twenty feet from the ground. There was no
  • foundation whatever; the bare earth being merely covered with ferns; a
  • kind of carpeting which serves very well, if frequently renewed;
  • otherwise, it becomes dusty, and the haunt of vermin, as in the huts
  • of the poorer natives.
  • Besides the couches, the furniture consisted of three or four sailor
  • chests; in which were stored the fine wearing-apparel of the
  • household--the ruffled linen shirts of Po-Po, the calico dresses of
  • his wife and children, and divers odds and ends of European
  • articles--strings of beads, ribbons, Dutch looking-glasses, knives,
  • coarse prints, bunches of keys, bits of crockery, and metal buttons.
  • One of these chests--used as a bandbox by Arfretee--contained
  • several of the native hats (coal-scuttles), all of the same pattern,
  • but trimmed with variously-coloured ribbons. Of nothing was our good
  • hostess more proud than of these hats, and her dresses. On Sundays,
  • she went abroad a dozen times; and every time, like Queen Elizabeth,
  • in a different robe.
  • Po-Po, for some reason or other, always gave us our meals before the
  • rest of the family were served; and the doctor, who was very
  • discerning in such matters, declared that we fared much better than
  • they. Certain it was that, had Ereemear's guests travelled with
  • purses, portmanteau, and letters of introduction to the queen, they
  • could not have been better cared for.
  • The day after our arrival, Monee, the old butler, brought us in for
  • dinner a small pig, baked in the ground. All savoury, it lay in a
  • wooden trencher, surrounded by roasted hemispheres of the breadfruit.
  • A large calabash, filled with taro pudding, or poee, followed; and
  • the young dandy, overcoming his customary languor, threw down our
  • cocoa-nuts from an adjoining tree.
  • When all was ready, and the household looking on, Long Ghost, devoutly
  • clasping his hands over the fated pig, implored a blessing. Hereupon,
  • everybody present looked exceedingly pleased; Po-Po coming up and
  • addressing the doctor with much warmth; and Arfretee, regarding him
  • with almost maternal affection, exclaimed delightedly, "Ah!
  • mickonaree tata matai!" in other words, "What a pious young man!"
  • It was just after this meal that she brought me a roll of grass
  • sinnate (of the kind which sailors sew into the frame of their
  • tarpaulins), and then, handing me needle and thread, bade me begin at
  • once, and make myself the hat which I so much needed. An accomplished
  • hand at the business, I finished it that day--merely stitching the
  • braid together; and Arfretee, by way of rewarding my industry, with
  • her own olive hands ornamented the crown with a band of
  • flame-coloured ribbon; the two long ends of which streaming behind,
  • sailor-fashion, still preserved for me the Eastern title bestowed by
  • Long Ghost.
  • CHAPTER LXXV.
  • A RAMBLE THROUGH THE SETTLEMENT
  • THE following morning, making our toilets carefully, we donned our
  • sombreros, and sallied out on a tour. Without meaning to reveal our
  • designs upon the court, our principal object was, to learn what
  • chances there were for white men to obtain employment under the
  • queen. On this head, it is true, we had questioned Po-Po; but his
  • answers had been very discouraging; so we determined to obtain
  • further information elsewhere.
  • But, first, to give some little description of the village.
  • The settlement of Partoowye is nothing more than some eighty houses,
  • scattered here and there, in the midst of an immense grove, where the
  • trees have been thinned out and the underbrush cleared away. Through
  • the grove flows a stream; and the principal avenue crosses it, over
  • an elastic bridge of cocoa-nut trunks, laid together side by side.
  • The avenue is broad, and serpentine; well shaded from one end to the
  • other, and as pretty a place for a morning promenade as any lounger
  • could wish. The houses, constructed without the slightest regard to
  • the road, peep into view from among the trees on either side: some
  • looking you right in the face as you pass, and others, without any
  • manners, turning their backs. Occasionally you observe a rural
  • retreat, inclosed by a picket of bamboos, or with a solitary pane of
  • glass massively framed in the broadside of the dwelling, or with a
  • rude, strange-looking door, swinging upon dislocated wooden hinges.
  • Otherwise, the dwellings are built in the original style of the
  • natives; and never mind how mean and filthy some of them may appear
  • within, they all look picturesque enough without.
  • As we sauntered along the people we met saluted us pleasantly, and
  • invited us into their houses; and in this way we made a good many
  • brief morning calls. But the hour could not have been the fashionable
  • one in Partoowye, since the ladies were invariably in dishabille. But
  • they always gave us a cordial reception, and were particularly polite
  • to the doctor; caressing him, and amorously hanging about his neck;
  • wonderfully taken up, in short, with a gay handkerchief he wore there.
  • Arfretee had that morning bestowed it upon the pious youth.
  • With some exceptions, the general appearance of the natives of
  • Partoowye was far better than that of the inhabitants of Papeetee: a
  • circumstance only to be imputed to their restricted intercourse with
  • foreigners.
  • Strolling on, we turned a sweep of the road, when the doctor gave a
  • start; and no wonder. Right before us, in the grove, was a block of
  • houses: regular square frames, boarded over, furnished with windows
  • and doorways, and two stories high. We ran up and found them fast
  • going to decay: very dingy, and here and there covered with moss; no
  • sashes, no doors; and on one side, the entire block had settled down
  • nearly a foot. On going into the basement we looked clean up through
  • the unbearded timbers to the roof; where rays of light, glimmering
  • through many a chink, illuminated the cobwebs which swung all round.
  • The whole interior was dark and close. Burrowing among some old mats
  • in one corner, like a parcel of gipsies in a ruin, were a few
  • vagabond natives. They had their dwelling here.
  • Curious to know who on earth could have been thus trying to improve
  • the value of real estate in Partoowye, we made inquiries; and learned
  • that some years previous the block had been thrown up by a veritable
  • Yankee (one might have known that), a house-carpenter by trade, and a
  • bold, enterprising fellow by nature.
  • Put ashore from his ship, sick, he first went to work and got well;
  • then sallied out with chisel and plane, and made himself generally
  • useful. A sober, steady man, it seems, he at last obtained the
  • confidence of several chiefs, and soon filled them with all sorts of
  • ideas concerning the alarming want of public spirit in the people of
  • Imeeo. More especially did he dwell upon the humiliating fact of
  • their living in paltry huts of bamboo, when magnificent palaces of
  • boards might so easily be mortised together.
  • In the end, these representations so far prevailed with one old chief
  • that the carpenter was engaged to build a batch of these wonderful
  • palaces. Provided with plenty of men, he at once set to work: built a
  • saw-mill among the mountains, felled trees, and sent over to Papeetee
  • for nails.
  • Presto! the castle rose; but alas, the roof was hardly on, when the
  • Yankee's patron, having speculated beyond his means, broke all to
  • pieces, and was absolutely unable to pay one "plug" of tobacco in the
  • pound. His failure involved the carpenter, who sailed away from his
  • creditors in the very next ship that touched at the harbour.
  • The natives despised the rickety palace of boards; and often lounged
  • by, wagging their heads, and jeering.
  • We were told that the queen's residence was at the extreme end of the
  • village; so, without waiting for the doctor to procure a fiddle, we
  • suddenly resolved upon going thither at once, and learning whether
  • any privy counsellorships were vacant.
  • Now, although there was a good deal of my waggish comrade's nonsense
  • about what has been said concerning our expectations of court
  • preferment, we, nevertheless, really thought that something to our
  • advantage might turn up in that quarter.
  • On approaching the palace grounds, we found them rather peculiar. A
  • broad pier of hewn coral rocks was built right out into the water;
  • and upon this, and extending into a grove adjoining, were some eight
  • or ten very large native houses, constructed in the handsomest style
  • and inclosed together by a low picket of bamboos, which embraced a
  • considerable area.
  • Throughout the Society Islands, the residences of the chiefs are
  • mostly found in the immediate vicinity of the sea; a site which gives
  • them the full benefit of a cooling breeze; nor are they so liable to
  • the annoyance of insects; besides enjoying, when they please, the
  • fine shade afforded by the neighbouring groves, always most luxuriant
  • near the water.
  • Lounging about the grounds were some sixty or eighty
  • handsomely-dressed natives, men and women; some reclining on the
  • shady side of the houses, others under the trees, and a small group
  • conversing close by the railing facing us.
  • We went up to the latter; and giving the usual salutation, were on the
  • point of vaulting over the bamboos, when they turned upon us angrily,
  • and said we could not enter. We stated our earnest desire to see the
  • queen; hinting that we were bearers of important dispatches. But it
  • was to no purpose; and not a little vexed, we were obliged to return
  • to Po-Po's without effecting anything.
  • CHAPTER LXXVI.
  • AN ISLAND JILT--WE VISIT THE SHIP
  • UPON arriving home we fully laid open to Po-Po our motives in visiting
  • Taloo, and begged his friendly advice. In his broken English he
  • cheerfully gave us all the information we needed.
  • It was true, he said, that the queen entertained some idea of making a
  • stand against the French; and it was currently reported also that
  • several chiefs from Borabora, Huwyenee, Raiatair, and Tahar, the
  • leeward islands of the group, were at that very time taking counsel
  • with her as to the expediency of organizing a general movement
  • throughout the entire cluster, with a view of anticipating any further
  • encroachments on the part of the invaders. Should warlike measures be
  • actually decided upon, it was quite certain that Pomaree would be
  • glad to enlist all the foreigners she could; but as to her making
  • officers of either the doctor or me, that was out of the question;
  • because, already, a number of Europeans, well known to her, had
  • volunteered as such. Concerning our getting immediate access to the
  • queen, Po-Po told us it was rather doubtful; she living at that time
  • very retired, in poor health, and spirits, and averse to receiving
  • calls. Previous to her misfortunes, however, no one, however humble,
  • was denied admittance to her presence; sailors, even, attended her
  • levees.
  • Not at all disheartened by these things, we concluded to kill time in
  • Partoowye until some event turned up more favourable to our projects.
  • So that very day we sallied out on an excursion to the ship which,
  • lying land-locked far up the bay, yet remained to be visited.
  • Passing on our route a long, low shed, a voice hailed us--"White men
  • ahoy!" Turning round, who should we see but a rosy-cheeked Englishman
  • (you could tell his country at a glance), up to his knees in
  • shavings, and planing away at a bench. He turned out to be a runaway
  • ship's carpenter, recently from Tahiti, and now doing a profitable
  • business in Imeeo, by fitting up the dwellings of opulent chiefs with
  • cupboards and other conveniences, and once in a while trying his hand
  • at a lady's work-box. He had been in the settlement but a few months,
  • and already possessed houses and lands.
  • But though blessed with prosperity and high health, there was one
  • thing wanting--a wife. And when he came to speak of the matter, his
  • countenance fell, and he leaned dejectedly upon his plane.
  • "It's too bad!" he sighed, "to wait three long years; and all the
  • while, dear little Lullee living in the same house with that infernal
  • chief from Tahar!"
  • Our curiosity was piqued; the poor carpenter, then, had been falling
  • in love with some island coquette, who was going to jilt him.
  • But such was not the case. There was a law prohibiting, under a heavy
  • penalty, the marriage of a native with a foreigner, unless the
  • latter, after being three years a resident on the island, was willing
  • to affirm his settled intention of remaining for life.
  • William was therefore in a sad way. He told us that he might have
  • married the girl half-a-dozen times, had it not been for this odious
  • law: but, latterly, she had become less loving and more giddy,
  • particularly with the strangers from Tahar. Desperately smitten, and
  • desirous of securing her at all hazards, he had proposed to the
  • damsel's friends a nice little arrangement, introductory to marriage;
  • but they would not hear of it; besides, if the pair were discovered
  • living together upon such a footing, they would be liable to a
  • degrading punishment:--sent to work making stone walls and opening
  • roads for the queen.
  • Doctor Long Ghost was all sympathy. "Bill, my good fellow," said he,
  • tremulously, "let me go and talk to her." But Bill, declining the
  • offer, would not even inform us where his charmer lived.
  • Leaving the disconsolate Willie planing a plank of New Zealand pine
  • (an importation from the Bay of Islands), and thinking the while of
  • Lullee, we went on our way. How his suit prospered in the end we
  • never learned.
  • Going from Po-Po's house toward the anchorage of the harbour of Taloo,
  • you catch no glimpse of the water until, coming out from deep groves,
  • you all at once find yourself upon the beach. A bay, considered by
  • many voyagers the most beautiful in the South Seas, then lies before
  • you. You stand upon one side of what seems a deep green river,
  • flowing through mountain passes to the sea. Right opposite a majestic
  • promontory divides the inlet from another, called after its
  • discoverer, Captain Cook. The face of this promontory toward Taloo
  • is one verdant wall; and at its base the waters lie still and
  • fathomless. On the left hand, you just catch a peep of the widening
  • mouth of the bay, the break in the reef by which ships enter, and,
  • beyond, the sea. To the right, the inlet, sweeping boldly round the
  • promontory, runs far away into the land; where, save in one
  • direction, the hills close in on every side, knee-deep in verdure and
  • shooting aloft in grotesque peaks. The open space lies at the head of
  • the bay; in the distance it extends into a broad hazy plain lying at
  • the foot of an amphitheatre of hills. Here is the large sugar
  • plantation previously alluded to. Beyond the first range of hills,
  • you descry the sharp pinnacles of the interior; and among these, the
  • same silent Marling-spike which we so often admired from the other
  • side of the island.
  • All alone in the harbour lay the good ship Leviathan. We jumped into
  • the canoe, and paddled off to her. Though early in the afternoon,
  • everything was quiet; but upon mounting the side we found four or
  • five sailors lounging about the forecastle, under an awning. They
  • gave us no very cordial reception; and though otherwise quite hearty
  • in appearance, seemed to assume a look of ill-humour on purpose to
  • honour our arrival. There was much eagerness to learn whether we
  • wanted to "ship"; and by the unpleasant accounts they gave of the
  • vessel, they seemed desirous to prevent such a thing if possible.
  • We asked where the rest of the ship's company were; a gruff old fellow
  • made answer, "One boat's crew of 'em is gone to Davy Jones's
  • locker:--went off after a whale, last cruise, and never come back
  • agin. All the starboard watch ran away last night, and the skipper's
  • ashore kitching 'em."
  • "And it's shipping yer after, my jewels, is it?" cried a curly-pated
  • little Belfast sailor, coming up to us, "thin arrah! my livelies,
  • jist be after sailing ashore in a jiffy:--the divil of a skipper will
  • carry yees both to sea, whether or no. Be off wid ye thin, darlints,
  • and steer clear of the likes of this ballyhoo of blazes as long as ye
  • live. They murther us here every day, and starve us into the bargain.
  • Here, Dick, lad, har! the poor divil's canow alongside; and paddle
  • away wid yees for dear life."
  • But we loitered awhile, listening to more inducements to ship; and at
  • last concluded to stay to supper. My sheath-knife never cut into
  • better sea-beef than that which we found lying in the kid in the
  • forecastle. The bread, too, was hard, dry, and brittle as glass; and
  • there was plenty of both.
  • While we were below, the mate of the vessel called out for someone to
  • come on deck. I liked his voice. Hearing it was as good as a look at
  • his face. It betokened a true sailor, and no taskmaster.
  • The appearance of the Leviathan herself was quite pleasing. Like all
  • large, comfortable old whalers, she had a sort of motherly
  • look:--broad in the beam, flush decks, and four chubby boats hanging
  • at the breast. Her sails were furled loosely upon the yards, as if
  • they had been worn long, and fitted easy; her shrouds swung
  • negligently slack; and as for the "running rigging," it never worked
  • hard as it does in some of your "dandy ships," jamming in the sheaves
  • of blocks, like Chinese slippers, too small to be useful: on the
  • contrary, the ropes ran glibly through, as if they had many a time
  • travelled the same road, and were used to it.
  • When evening came, we dropped into our canoe, and paddled ashore;
  • fully convinced that the good ship never deserved the name which they
  • gave her.
  • CHAPTER LXXVII.
  • A PARTY OF ROVERS--LITTLE LOO AND THE DOCTOR
  • WHILE IN Partoowye, we fell in with a band of six veteran rovers,
  • prowling about the village and harbour, who had just come overland
  • from another part of the island.
  • A few weeks previous, they had been paid off, at Papeetee, from a
  • whaling vessel, on board of which they had, six months before,
  • shipped for a single cruise; that is to say, to be discharged at the
  • next port. Their cruise was a famous one; and each man stepped upon
  • the beach at Tahiti jingling his dollars in a sock.
  • Weary at last of the shore, and having some money left, they clubbed,
  • and purchased a sail-boat; proposing a visit to a certain uninhabited
  • island, concerning which they had heard strange and golden stories.
  • Of course, they never could think of going to sea without a
  • medicine-chest filled with flasks of spirits, and a small cask of the
  • same in the hold in case the chest should give out.
  • Away they sailed; hoisted a flag of their own, and gave three times
  • three, as they staggered out of the bay of Papeetee with a strong
  • breeze, and under all the "muslin" they could carry.
  • Evening coming on, and feeling in high spirits and no ways disposed to
  • sleep, they concluded to make a night of it; which they did; all
  • hands getting tipsy, and the two masts going over the side about
  • midnight, to the tune of
  • "Sailing down, sailing down, On the coast of Barbaree."
  • Fortunately, one worthy could stand by holding on to the tiller; and
  • the rest managed to crawl about, and hack away the lanyards of the
  • rigging, so as to break clear from the fallen spars. While thus
  • employed, two sailors got tranquilly over the side, and went plumb to
  • the bottom, under the erroneous impression that they were stepping
  • upon an imaginary wharf to get at their work better.
  • After this, it blew quite a gale; and the commodore, at the helm,
  • instinctively kept the boat before the wind; and by so doing, ran
  • over for the opposite island of Imeeo. Crossing the channel, by
  • almost a miracle they went straight through an opening in the reef,
  • and shot upon a ledge of coral, where the waters were tolerably
  • smooth. Here they lay until morning, when the natives came off to
  • them in their canoes. By the help of the islanders, the schooner was
  • hove over on her beam-ends; when, finding the bottom knocked to
  • pieces, the adventurers sold the boat for a trifle to the chief of
  • the district, and went ashore, rolling before them their precious cask
  • of spirits. Its contents soon evaporated, and they came to Partoowye.
  • The day after encountering these fellows, we were strolling among the
  • groves in the neighbourhood, when we came across several parties of
  • natives armed with clumsy muskets, rusty cutlasses, and outlandish
  • clubs. They were beating the bushes, shouting aloud, and apparently
  • trying to scare somebody. They were in pursuit of the strangers, who,
  • having in a single night set at nought all the laws of the place, had
  • thought best to decamp.
  • In the daytime, Po-Po's house was as pleasant a lounge as one could
  • wish. So, after strolling about, and seeing all there was to be seen,
  • we spent the greater part of our mornings there; breakfasting late,
  • and dining about two hours after noon. Sometimes we lounged on the
  • floor of ferns, smoking, and telling stories; of which the doctor had
  • as many as a half-pay captain in the army. Sometimes we chatted, as
  • well as we could, with the natives; and, one day--joy to us!--Po-Po
  • brought in three volumes of Smollett's novels, which had been found
  • in the chest of a sailor, who some time previous had died on the
  • island.
  • Amelia!--Peregrine!--you hero of rogues, Count Fathom!--what a debt do
  • we owe you!
  • I know not whether it was the reading of these romances, or the want
  • of some sentimental pastime, which led the doctor, about this period,
  • to lay siege to the heart of the little Loo.
  • Now, as I have said before, the daughter of Po-Po was most cruelly
  • reserved, and never deigned to notice us. Frequently I addressed her
  • with a long face and an air of the profoundest and most distant
  • respect--but in vain; she wouldn't even turn up her pretty olive
  • nose. Ah! it's quite plain, thought I; she knows very well what
  • graceless dogs sailors are, and won't have anything to do with us.
  • But thus thought not my comrade. Bent he was upon firing the cold
  • glitter of Loo's passionless eyes.
  • He opened the campaign with admirable tact: making cautious
  • approaches, and content, for three days, with ogling the nymph for
  • about five minutes after every meal. On the fourth day, he asked her
  • a question; on the fifth, she dropped a nut of ointment, and he
  • picked it up and gave it to her; on the sixth, he went over and sat
  • down within three yards of the couch where she lay; and, on the
  • memorable morn of the seventh, he proceeded to open his batteries in
  • form.
  • The damsel was reclining on the ferns; one hand supporting her cheek,
  • and the other listlessly turning over the leaves of a Tahitian Bible.
  • The doctor approached.
  • Now the chief disadvantage under which he laboured was his almost
  • complete ignorance of the love vocabulary of the island. But French
  • counts, they say, make love delightfully in broken English; and what
  • hindered the doctor from doing the same in dulcet Tahitian. So at it
  • he went.
  • "Ah!" said he, smiling bewitchingly, "oee mickonaree; oee ready
  • Biblee?"
  • No answer; not even a look.
  • "Ah I matai! very goody ready Biblee mickonaree."
  • Loo, without stirring, began reading, in a low tone, to herself.
  • "Mickonaree Biblee ready goody maitai," once more observed the doctor,
  • ingeniously transposing his words for the third time.
  • But all to no purpose; Loo gave no sign.
  • He paused, despairingly; but it would never do to give up; so he threw
  • himself at full length beside her, and audaciously commenced turning
  • over the leaves.
  • Loo gave a start, just one little start, barely perceptible, and then,
  • fumbling something in her hand, lay perfectly motionless; the doctor
  • rather frightened at his own temerity, and knowing not what to do
  • next. At last, he placed one arm cautiously about her waist; almost
  • in the same instant he bounded to his feet, with a cry; the little
  • witch had pierced him with a thorn. But there she lay, just as
  • quietly as ever, turning over the leaves, and reading to herself.
  • My long friend raised the siege incontinently, and made a disorderly
  • retreat to the place where I reclined, looking on.
  • I am pretty sure that Loo must have related this occurrence to her
  • father, who came in shortly afterward; for he looked queerly at the
  • doctor. But he said nothing; and, in ten minutes, was quite as
  • affable as ever. As for Loo, there was not the slightest change in
  • her; and the doctor, of course, for ever afterwards held his peace.
  • CHAPTER LXXVIII.
  • MRS. BELL
  • ONE DAY, taking a pensive afternoon stroll along one of the many
  • bridle-paths which wind among the shady groves in the neighbourhood
  • of Taloo, I was startled by a sunny apparition. It was that of a
  • beautiful young Englishwoman, charmingly dressed, and mounted upon a
  • spirited little white pony. Switching a green branch, she came
  • cantering toward me.
  • I looked round to see whether I could possibly be in Polynesia. There
  • were the palm-trees; but how to account for the lady?
  • Stepping to one side as the apparition drew near, I made a polite
  • obeisance. It gave me a bold, rosy look; and then, with a gay air,
  • patted its palfrey, crying out, "Fly away, Willie!" and galloped
  • among the trees.
  • I would have followed; but Willie's heels were making such a pattering
  • among the dry leaves that pursuit would have been useless.
  • So I went straight home to Po-Po's, and related my adventure to the
  • doctor.
  • The next day, our inquiries resulted in finding out that the stranger
  • had been on the island about two years; that she came from Sydney;
  • and was the wife of Mr. Bell (happy dog!), the proprietor of the
  • sugar plantation to which I have previously referred.
  • To the sugar plantation we went, the same day.
  • The country round about was very beautiful: a level basin of verdure,
  • surrounded by sloping hillsides. The sugar-cane--of which there was
  • about one hundred acres, in various stages of cultivation--looked
  • thrifty. A considerable tract of land, however, which seemed to have
  • been formerly tilled, was now abandoned.
  • The place where they extracted the saccharine matter was under an
  • immense shed of bamboos. Here we saw several clumsy pieces of
  • machinery for breaking the cane; also great kettles for boiling the
  • sugar. But, at present, nothing was going on. Two or three natives
  • were lounging in one of the kettles, smoking; the other was occupied
  • by three sailors from the Leviathan, playing cards.
  • While we were conversing with these worthies, a stranger approached.
  • He was a sun-burnt, romantic-looking European, dressed in a loose
  • suit of nankeen; his fine throat and chest were exposed, and he
  • sported a Guayaquil hat with a brim like a Chinese umbrella. This was
  • Mr. Bell. He was very civil; showed us the grounds, and, taking us
  • into a sort of arbour, to our surprise, offered to treat us to some
  • wine. People often do the like; but Mr. Bell did more: he produced
  • the bottle. It was spicy sherry; and we drank out of the halves of
  • fresh citron melons. Delectable goblets!
  • The wine was a purchase from, the French in Tahiti.
  • Now all this was extremely polite in Mr. Bell; still, we came to see
  • Mrs. Bell. But she proved to be a phantom, indeed; having left the
  • same morning for Papeetee, on a visit to one of the missionaries'
  • wives there.
  • I went home, much chagrined.
  • To be frank, my curiosity had been wonderfully piqued concerning the
  • lady. In the first place, she was the most beautiful white woman I
  • ever saw in Polynesia. But this is saying nothing. She had such eyes,
  • such moss-roses in her cheeks, such a divine air in the saddle, that,
  • to my dying day, I shall never forget Mrs. Bell.
  • The sugar-planter himself was young, robust, and handsome. So, merrily
  • may the little Bells increase, and multiply, and make music in the
  • Land of Imeeo.
  • CHAPTER LXXIX.
  • TALOO CHAPEL--HOLDING COURT IN POLYNESIA
  • IN Partoowye is to be seen one of the best-constructed and handsomest
  • chapels in the South Seas. Like the buildings of the palace, it
  • stands upon an artificial pier, presenting a semicircular sweep to
  • the bay. The chapel is built of hewn blocks of coral; a substance
  • which, although extremely friable, is said to harden by exposure to
  • the atmosphere. To a stranger, these blocks look extremely curious.
  • Their surface is covered with strange fossil-like impressions, the
  • seal of which must have been set before the flood. Very nearly white
  • when hewn from the reefs, the coral darkens with age; so that several
  • churches in Polynesia now look almost as sooty and venerable as famed
  • St. Paul's.
  • In shape, the chapel is an octagon, with galleries all round. It will
  • seat, perhaps, four hundred people. Everything within is stained a
  • tawny red; and there being but few windows, or rather embrasures, the
  • dusky benches and galleries, and the tall spectre of a pulpit look
  • anything but cheerful.
  • On Sundays we always went to worship here. Going in the family suite
  • of Po-Po, we, of course, maintained a most decorous exterior; and
  • hence, by all the elderly people of the village, were doubtless
  • regarded as pattern young men.
  • Po-Po's seat was in a snug corner; and it being particularly snug, in
  • the immediate vicinity of one of the Palm pillars supporting the
  • gallery, I invariably leaned against it: Po-Po and his lady on one
  • side, the doctor and the dandy on the other, and the children and
  • poor relations seated behind.
  • As for Loo, instead of sitting (as she ought to have done) by her good
  • father and mother, she must needs run up into the gallery, and sit
  • with a parcel of giddy creatures of her own age; who, all through the
  • sermon, did nothing but look down on the congregation; pointing out,
  • and giggling at the queer-looking old ladies in dowdy bonnets and
  • scant tunics. But Loo, herself, was never guilty of these
  • improprieties.
  • Occasionally during the week they have afternoon service in the
  • chapel, when the natives themselves have something to say; although
  • their auditors are but few. An introductory prayer being offered by
  • the missionary, and a hymn sung, communicants rise in their places,
  • and exhort in pure Tahitian, and with wonderful tone and gesture.
  • And among them all, Deacon Po-Po, though he talked most, was the one
  • whom you would have liked best to hear. Much would I have given to
  • have understood some of his impassioned bursts; when he tossed his
  • arms overhead, stamped, scowled, and glared, till he looked like the
  • very Angel of Vengeance.
  • "Deluded man!" sighed the doctor, on one of these occasions, "I fear
  • he takes the fanatical view of the subject." One thing was certain:
  • when Po-Po spoke, all listened; a great deal more than could be said
  • for the rest; for under the discipline of two or three I could
  • mention, some of the audience napped; others fidgeted; a few yawned;
  • and one irritable old gentleman, in a nightcap of cocoa-nut leaves,
  • used to clutch his long staff in a state of excessive nervousness,
  • and stride out of the church, making all the noise he could, to
  • emphasize his disgust.
  • Right adjoining the chapel is an immense, rickety building, with
  • windows and shutters, and a half-decayed board flooring laid upon
  • trunks of palm-trees. They called it a school-house; but as such we
  • never saw it occupied. It was often used as a court-room, however;
  • and here we attended several trials; among others, that of a decayed
  • naval officer, and a young girl of fourteen; the latter charged with
  • having been very naughty on a particular occasion set forth in the
  • pleadings; and the former with having aided and abetted her in her
  • naughtiness, and with other misdemeanours.
  • The foreigner was a tall, military-looking fellow, with a dark cheek
  • and black whiskers. According to his own account, he had lost a
  • colonial armed brig on the coast of New Zealand; and since then, had
  • been leading the life of a man about town among the islands of the
  • Pacific.
  • The doctor wanted to know why he did not go home and report the loss
  • of his brig; but Captain Crash, as they called him, had some
  • incomprehensible reasons for not doing so, about which he could talk
  • by the hour, and no one be any the wiser. Probably he was a discreet
  • man, and thought it best to waive an interview with the lords of the
  • admiralty.
  • For some time past, this extremely suspicious character had been
  • carrying on the illicit trade in French wines and brandies, smuggled
  • over from the men-of-war lately touching at Tahiti. In a grove near
  • the anchorage he had a rustic shanty and arbour, where, in quiet
  • times, when no ships were in Taloo, a stray native once in a while
  • got boozy, and staggered home, catching at the cocoa-nut trees as he
  • went. The captain himself lounged under a tree during the warm
  • afternoons, pipe in mouth; thinking, perhaps, over old times, and
  • occasionally feeling his shoulders for his lost epaulets.
  • But, sail ho! a ship is descried coming into the bay. Soon she drops
  • her anchor in its waters; and the next day Captain Crash entertains
  • the sailors in his grove. And rare times they have of it:--drinking
  • and quarrelling together as sociably as you please.
  • Upon one of these occasions, the crew of the Leviathan made so
  • prodigious a tumult that the natives, indignant at the insult offered
  • their laws, plucked up a heart, and made a dash at the rioters, one
  • hundred strong. The sailors fought like tigers; but were at last
  • overcome, and carried before a native tribunal; which, after a mighty
  • clamour, dismissed everybody but Captain Crash, who was asserted to be
  • the author of the disorders.
  • Upon this charge, then, he had been placed in confinement against the
  • coming on of the assizes; the judge being expected to lounge along in
  • the course of the afternoon. While waiting his Honour's arrival,
  • numerous additional offences were preferred against the culprit
  • (mostly by the old women); among others was the bit of a slip in
  • which he stood implicated along with the young lady. Thus, in
  • Polynesia as elsewhere;--charge a man with one misdemeanour, and all
  • his peccadilloes are raked up and assorted before him.
  • Going to the school-house for the purpose of witnessing the trial, the
  • din of it assailed our ears a long way off; and upon entering the
  • building, we were almost stunned. About five hundred natives were
  • present; each apparently having something to say and determined to
  • say it. His Honour--a handsome, benevolent-looking old man--sat
  • cross-legged on a little platform, seemingly resigned, with all
  • Christian submission, to the uproar. He was an hereditary chief in
  • this quarter of the island, and judge for life in the district of
  • Partoowye.
  • There were several cases coming on; but the captain and girl were
  • first tried together. They were mixing freely with the crowd; and as
  • it afterwards turned out that everyone--no matter who--had a right to
  • address the court, for aught we knew they might have been arguing
  • their own case. At what precise moment the trial began it would be
  • hard to say. There was no swearing of witnesses, and no regular jury.
  • Now and then somebody leaped up and shouted out something which might
  • have been evidence; the rest, meanwhile, keeping up an incessant
  • jabbering. Presently the old judge himself began to get excited; and
  • springing to his feet, ran in among the crowd, wagging his tongue as
  • hard as anybody.
  • The tumult lasted about twenty minutes; and toward the end of it,
  • Captain Crash might have been seen, tranquilly regarding, from his
  • Honour's platform, the judicial uproar, in which his fate was about
  • being decided.
  • The result of all this was that both he and the girl were found
  • guilty. The latter was adjudged to make six mats for the queen; and
  • the former, in consideration of his manifold offences, being deemed
  • incorrigible, was sentenced to eternal banishment from the island.
  • Both these decrees seemed to originate in the general hubbub. His
  • Honour, however, appeared to have considerable authority, and it was
  • quite plain that the decision received his approval.
  • The above penalties were by no means indiscriminately inflicted. The
  • missionaries have prepared a sort of penal tariff to facilitate
  • judicial proceedings. It costs so many days' labour on the Broom Road
  • to indulge in the pleasures of the calabash; so many fathoms of stone
  • wall to steal a musket; and so on to the end of the catalogue. The
  • judge being provided with a book in which all these matters are
  • cunningly arranged, the thing is vastly convenient. For instance: a
  • crime is proved,--say bigamy; turn to letter B--and there you have
  • it. Bigamy:--forty days on the Broom Road, and twenty mats for the
  • queen. Read the passage aloud, and sentence is pronounced.
  • After taking part in the first trial, the other delinquents present
  • were put upon their own; in which, also, the convicted culprits
  • seemed to have quite as much to say as the rest. A rather strange
  • proceeding; but strictly in accordance with the glorious English
  • principle, that every man should be tried by his peers. They were all
  • found guilty.
  • CHAPTER LXXX.
  • QUEEN POMAREE
  • IT is well to learn something about people before being introduced to
  • them, and so we will here give some account of Pomaree and her
  • family.
  • Every reader of Cook's Voyages must remember "Otto," who, in that
  • navigator's time, was king of the larger peninsula of Tahiti.
  • Subsequently, assisted by the muskets of the Bounty's men, he
  • extended his rule over the entire island. This Otto, before his
  • death, had his name changed into Pomaree, which has ever since been
  • the royal patronymic.
  • He was succeeded by his son, Pomaree II., the most famous prince in
  • the annals of Tahiti. Though a sad debauchee and drunkard, and even
  • charged with unnatural crimes, he was a great friend of the
  • missionaries, and one of their very first proselytes. During the
  • religious wars into which he was hurried by his zeal for the new
  • faith, he was defeated and expelled from the island. After a short
  • exile he returned from Imeeo, with an army of eight hundred warriors,
  • and in the battle of Narii routed the rebellious pagans with great
  • slaughter, and reestablished himself upon the throne. Thus, by force
  • of arms, was Christianity finally triumphant in Tahiti.
  • Pomaree II., dying in 1821, was succeeded by his infant son, under the
  • title of Pomaree III. This young prince survived his father but six
  • years; and the government then descended to his elder sister, Aimata,
  • the present queen, who is commonly called Pomaree Vahinee I., or the
  • first female Pomaree. Her majesty must be now upwards of thirty years
  • of age. She has been twice married. Her first husband was a son of
  • the old King of Tahar, an island about one hundred miles from Tahiti.
  • This proving an unhappy alliance, the pair were soon afterwards
  • divorced. The present husband of the queen is a chief of Imeeo.
  • The reputation of Pomaree is not what it ought to be. She, and also
  • her mother, were, for a long time, excommunicated members of the
  • Church; and the former, I believe, still is. Among other things, her
  • conjugal fidelity is far from being unquestioned. Indeed, it was upon
  • this ground chiefly that she was excluded from the communion of the
  • Church.
  • Previous to her misfortunes she spent the greater portion of her time
  • sailing about from one island to another, attended by a licentious
  • court; and wherever she went all manner of games and festivities
  • celebrated her arrival.
  • She was always given to display. For several years the maintenance of
  • a regiment of household troops drew largely upon the royal exchequer.
  • They were trouserless fellows, in a uniform of calico shirts and
  • pasteboard hats; armed with muskets of all shapes and calibres, and
  • commanded by a great noisy chief, strutting it in a coat of fiery
  • red. These heroes escorted their mistress whenever she went abroad.
  • Some time ago, the queen received from her English sister, Victoria, a
  • very showy, though uneasy, head-dress--a crown; probably made to
  • order at some tinman's in London. Having no idea of reserving so
  • pretty a bauble for coronation days, which come so seldom, her
  • majesty sported it whenever she appeared in public; and, to show her
  • familiarity with European customs, politely touched it to all
  • foreigners of distinction--whaling captains, and the like--whom she
  • happened to meet in her evening walk on the Broom Road.
  • The arrival and departure of royalty were always announced at the
  • palace by the court artilleryman--a fat old gentleman who, in a
  • prodigious hurry and perspiration, discharged minute fowling-pieces
  • as fast as he could load and fire the same.
  • The Tahitian princess leads her husband a hard life. Poor fellow! he
  • not only caught a queen, but a Tartar, when he married her. The style
  • by which he is addressed is rather significant--"Pomaree-Tanee"
  • (Pomaree's man). All things considered, as appropriate a title for a
  • king-consort as could be hit upon.
  • If ever there were a henpecked husband, that man is the prince. One
  • day, his carasposa giving audience to a deputation from the captains
  • of the vessels lying in Papeetee, he ventured to make a suggestion
  • which was very displeasing to her. She turned round and, boxing his
  • ears, told him to go over to his beggarly island of Imeeo if he
  • wanted to give himself airs.
  • Cuffed and contemned, poor Tanee flies to the bottle, or rather to the
  • calabash, for solace. Like his wife and mistress, he drinks more than
  • he ought.
  • Six or seven years ago, when an American man-of-war was lying at
  • Papeetee, the town was thrown into the greatest commotion by a
  • conjugal assault and battery made upon the sacred person of Pomaree
  • by her intoxicated Tanee.
  • Captain Bob once told me the story. And by way of throwing more spirit
  • into the description, as well as to make up for his oral
  • deficiencies, the old man went through the accompanying action:
  • myself being proxy for the Queen of Tahiti.
  • It seems that, on a Sunday morning, being dismissed contemptuously
  • from the royal presence, Tanee was accosted by certain good fellows,
  • friends and boon companions, who condoled with him on his
  • misfortunes--railed against the queen, and finally dragged him away
  • to an illicit vendor of spirits, in whose house the party got
  • gloriously mellow. In this state, Pomaree Vahinee I. was the topic
  • upon which all dilated--"A vixen of a queen," probably suggested one.
  • "It's infamous," said another; "and I'd have satisfaction," cried a
  • third. "And so I will!"--Tanee must have hiccoughed; for off he went;
  • and ascertaining that his royal half was out riding, he mounted his
  • horse and galloped after her.
  • Near the outskirts of the town, a cavalcade of women came cantering
  • toward him, in the centre of which was the object of his fury.
  • Smiting his beast right and left, he dashed in among them, completely
  • overturning one of the party, leaving her on the field, and
  • dispersing everybody else except Pomaree. Backing her horse
  • dexterously, the incensed queen heaped upon him every scandalous
  • epithet she could think of; until at last the enraged Tanee leaped
  • out of his saddle, caught Pomaree by her dress, and dragging her to
  • the earth struck her repeatedly in the face, holding on meanwhile by
  • the hair of her head. He was proceeding to strangle her on the spot,
  • when the cries of the frightened attendants brought a crowd of natives
  • to the rescue, who bore the nearly insensible queen away.
  • But his frantic rage was not yet sated. He ran to the palace; and
  • before it could be prevented, demolished a valuable supply of
  • crockery, a recent present from abroad. In the act of perpetrating
  • some other atrocity, he was seized from behind, and carried off with
  • rolling eyes and foaming at the mouth.
  • This is a fair example of a Tahitian in a passion. Though the mildest
  • of mortals in general, and hard to be roused, when once fairly up, he
  • is possessed with a thousand devils.
  • The day following, Tanee was privately paddled over to Imeeo in a
  • canoe; where, after remaining in banishment for a couple of weeks, he
  • was allowed to return, and once more give in his domestic adhesion.
  • Though Pomaree Vahinee I. be something of a Jezebel in private life,
  • in her public rule she is said to have been quite lenient and
  • forbearing. This was her true policy; for an hereditary hostility to
  • her family had always lurked in the hearts of many powerful chiefs,
  • the descendants of the old Kings of Taiarboo, dethroned by her
  • grandfather Otoo. Chief among these, and in fact the leader of his
  • party, was Poofai; a bold, able man, who made no secret of his enmity
  • to the missionaries, and the government which they controlled. But
  • while events were occurring calculated to favour the hopes of the
  • disaffected and turbulent, the arrival of the French gave a most
  • unexpected turn to affairs.
  • During my sojourn in Tahiti, a report was rife--which I knew to
  • originate with what is generally called the "missionary party"--that
  • Poofai and some other chiefs of note had actually agreed, for a
  • stipulated bribe, to acquiesce in the appropriation of their country.
  • But subsequent events have rebutted the calumny. Several of these
  • very men have recently died in battle against the French.
  • Under the sovereignty of the Pomarees, the great chiefs of Tahiti were
  • something like the barons of King John. Holding feudal sway over
  • their patrimonial valleys, and on account of their descent, warmly
  • beloved by the people, they frequently cut off the royal revenues by
  • refusing to pay the customary tribute due from them as vassals.
  • The truth is, that with the ascendancy of the missionaries, the regal
  • office in Tahiti lost much of its dignity and influence. In the days
  • of Paganism, it was supported by all the power of a numerous
  • priesthood, and was solemnly connected with the entire superstitious
  • idolatry of the land. The monarch claimed to be a sort of bye-blow of
  • Tararroa, the Saturn of the Polynesian mythology, and cousin-german to
  • inferior deities. His person was thrice holy; if he entered an
  • ordinary dwelling, never mind for how short a time, it was demolished
  • when he left; no common mortal being thought worthy to inhabit it
  • afterward.
  • "I'm a greater man than King George," said the incorrigible young Otoo
  • to the first missionaries; "he rides on a horse, and I on a man."
  • Such was the case. He travelled post through his dominions on the
  • shoulders of his subjects; and relays of mortal beings were provided
  • in all the valleys.
  • But alas! how times have changed; how transient human greatness. Some
  • years since, Pomaree Vahinee I., the granddaughter of the proud Otoo,
  • went into the laundry business; publicly soliciting, by her agents,
  • the washing of the linen belonging to the officers of ships touching
  • in her harbours.
  • It is a significant fact, and one worthy of record, that while the
  • influence of the English missionaries at Tahiti has tended to so
  • great a diminution of the regal dignity there, that of the American
  • missionaries at the Sandwich Islands has been purposely exerted to
  • bring about a contrary result.
  • CHAPTER LXXXI.
  • WE VISIT THE COURT
  • IT WAS about the middle of the second month of the Hegira, and
  • therefore some five weeks after our arrival in Partoowye, that we at
  • last obtained admittance to the residence of the queen.
  • It happened thus. There was a Marquesan in the train of Pomaree who
  • officiated as nurse to her children. According to the Tahitian
  • custom, the royal youngsters are carried about until it requires no
  • small degree of strength to stand up under them. But Marbonna was
  • just the man for this--large and muscular, well made as a statue, and
  • with an arm like a degenerate Tahitian's thigh.
  • Embarking at his native island as a sailor on board of a French
  • whaler, he afterward ran away from the ship at Tahiti; where, being
  • seen and admired by Pomaree, he had been prevailed upon to enlist in
  • her service.
  • Often, when visiting the grounds, we saw him walking about in the
  • shade, carrying two handsome boys, who encircled his neck with their
  • arms. Marbonna's face, tattooed as it was in the ornate style of his
  • tribe, was as good as a picture-book to these young Pomarees. They
  • delighted to trace with their fingers the outlines of the strange
  • shapes there delineated.
  • The first time my eyes lighted upon the Marquesan, I knew his country
  • in a moment; and hailing him in his own language, he turned round,
  • surprised that a person so speaking should be a stranger. He proved
  • to be a native of Tior, a glen of Nukuheva. I had visited the place
  • more than once; and so, on the island of Imeeo, we met like old
  • friends.
  • In my frequent conversations with him over the bamboo picket, I found
  • this islander a philosopher of nature--a wild heathen, moralizing
  • upon the vices and follies of the Christian court of Tahiti--a
  • savage, scorning the degeneracy of the people among whom fortune had
  • thrown him.
  • I was amazed at the national feelings of the man. No European, when
  • abroad, could speak of his country with more pride than Marbonna. He
  • assured me, again and again, that so soon as he had obtained
  • sufficient money to purchase twenty muskets, and as many bags of
  • powder, he was going to return to a place with which Imeeo was not
  • worthy to be compared.
  • It was Marbonna who, after one or two unsuccessful attempts, at last
  • brought about our admission into the queen's grounds. Through a
  • considerable crowd he conducted us along the pier to where an old man
  • was sitting, to whom he introduced us as a couple of "karhowrees" of
  • his acquaintance, anxious to see the sights of the palace. The
  • venerable chamberlain stared at us, and shook his head: the doctor,
  • thinking he wanted a fee, placed a plug of tobacco in his hand. This
  • was ingratiating, and we were permitted to pass on. Upon the point of
  • entering one of the houses, Marbonna's name was shouted in
  • half-a-dozen different directions, and he was obliged to withdraw.
  • Thus left at the very threshold to shift for ourselves, my companion's
  • assurance stood us in good stead. He stalked right in, and I
  • followed. The place was full of women, who, instead of exhibiting the
  • surprise we expected, accosted us as cordially as if we had called to
  • take our Souchong with them by express invitation. In the first
  • place, nothing would do but we must each devour a calabash of "poee,"
  • and several roasted bananas. Pipes were then lighted, and a brisk
  • conversation ensued.
  • These ladies of the court, if not very polished, were surprisingly
  • free and easy in their manners; quite as much so as King Charles's
  • beauties. There was one of them--an arch little miss, who could
  • converse with us pretty fluently--to whom we strove to make ourselves
  • particularly agreeable, with the view of engaging her services as
  • cicerone.
  • As such, she turned out to be everything we could desire. No one
  • disputing her will, every place was entered without ceremony,
  • curtains brushed aside, mats lifted, and each nook and corner
  • explored. Whether the little damsel carried her mistress' signet,
  • that everything opened to her thus, I know not; but Marbonna himself,
  • the bearer of infants, could not have been half so serviceable.
  • Among other houses which we visited, was one of large size and fine
  • exterior; the special residence of a European--formerly the mate of a
  • merchant vessel,--who had done himself the honour of marrying into
  • the Pomaree family. The lady he wedded being a near kinswoman of the
  • queen, he became a permanent member of her majesty's household. This
  • adventurer rose late, dressed theatrically in calico and trinkets,
  • assumed a dictatorial tone in conversation, and was evidently upon
  • excellent terms with himself.
  • We found him reclining on a mat, smoking a reed-pipe of tobacco, in
  • the midst of an admiring circle of chiefs and ladies. He must have
  • noticed our approach; but instead of rising and offering civilities,
  • he went on talking and smoking, without even condescending to look at
  • us.
  • "His Highness feels his 'poee,'" carelessly observed the doctor. The
  • rest of the company gave us the ordinary salutation, our guide
  • announcing us beforehand.
  • In answer to our earnest requests to see the queen, we were now
  • conducted to an edifice, by far the most spacious, in the inclosure.
  • It was at least one hundred and fifty feet in length, very wide, with
  • low eaves, and an exceedingly steep roof of pandannas leaves. There
  • were neither doors nor windows--nothing along the sides but the
  • slight posts supporting the rafters. Between these posts, curtains of
  • fine matting and tappa were rustling, all round; some of them were
  • festooned, or partly withdrawn, so as to admit light and air, and
  • afford a glimpse now and then of what was going on within.
  • Pushing aside one of the screens, we entered. The apartment was one
  • immense hall; the long and lofty ridge-pole fluttering with fringed
  • matting and tassels, full forty feet from the ground. Lounges of
  • mats, piled one upon another, extended on either side: while here
  • and there were slight screens, forming as many recesses, where groups
  • of natives--all females--were reclining at their evening meal.
  • As we advanced, these various parties ceased their buzzing, and in
  • explanation of our appearance among them, listened to a few
  • cabalistic words from our guide.
  • The whole scene was a strange one; but what most excited our surprise
  • was the incongruous assemblage of the most costly objects from all
  • quarters of the globe. Cheek by jowl, they lay beside the rudest
  • native articles, without the slightest attempt at order. Superb
  • writing-desks of rosewood, inlaid with silver and mother-of-pearl;
  • decanters and goblets of cut glass; embossed volumes of plates; gilded
  • candelabra; sets of globes and mathematical instruments; the finest
  • porcelain; richly-mounted sabres and fowling-pieces; laced hats and
  • sumptuous garments of all sorts, with numerous other matters of
  • European manufacture, were strewn about among greasy calabashes
  • half-filled with "poee," rolls of old tappa and matting, paddles and
  • fish-spears, and the ordinary furniture of a Tahitian dwelling.
  • All the articles first mentioned were, doubtless, presents from
  • foreign powers. They were more or less injured: the fowling-pieces
  • and swords were rusted; the finest woods were scratched; and a folio
  • volume of Hogarth lay open, with a cocoa-nut shell of some musty
  • preparation capsized among the miscellaneous furniture of the Rake's
  • apartment, where that inconsiderate young gentleman is being measured
  • for a coat.
  • While we were amusing ourselves in this museum of curiosities, our
  • conductor plucked us by the sleeve, and whispered, "Pomaree! Pomaree!
  • armai kow kow."
  • "She is coming to sup, then," said the doctor, staring in the
  • direction indicated. "What say you, Paul, suppose we step up?" Just
  • then a curtain near by lifted, and from a private building a few
  • yards distant the queen entered, unattended.
  • She wore a loose gown of blue silk, with two rich shawls, one red and
  • the other yellow, tied about her neck. Her royal majesty was
  • barefooted.
  • She was about the ordinary size, rather matronly; her features not
  • very handsome; her mouth, voluptuous; but there was a care-worn
  • expression in her face, probably attributable to her late
  • misfortunes. From her appearance, one would judge her about forty;
  • but she is not so old.
  • As the queen approached one of the recesses, her attendants hurried
  • up, escorted her in, and smoothed the mats on which she at last
  • reclined. Two girls soon appeared, carrying their mistress' repast;
  • and then, surrounded by cut-glass and porcelain, and jars of
  • sweetmeats and confections, Pomaree Vahinee I., the titular Queen of
  • Tahiti, ate fish and "poee" out of her native calabashes, disdaining
  • either knife or spoon.
  • "Come on," whispered Long Ghost, "let's have an audience at once;" and
  • he was on the point of introducing himself, when our guide, quite
  • alarmed, held him back and implored silence. The other natives also
  • interfered, and, as he was pressing forward, raised such an outcry
  • that Pomaree lifted her eyes and saw us for the first.
  • She seemed surprised and offended, and, issuing an order in a
  • commanding tone to several of her women, waved us out of the house.
  • Summary as the dismissal was, court etiquette, no doubt, required our
  • compliance. We withdrew; making a profound inclination as we
  • disappeared behind the tappa arras.
  • We departed the ground without seeing Marbonna; and previous to
  • vaulting over the picket, feed our pretty guide after a fashion of
  • our own. Looking round a few moments after, we saw the damsel
  • escorted back by two men, who seemed to have been sent after her. I
  • trust she received nothing more than a reprimand.
  • The next day Po-Po informed us that strict orders had been issued to
  • admit no strangers within the palace precincts.
  • CHAPTER LXXXII.
  • WHICH ENDS THE BOOK
  • DISAPPOINTED in going to court, we determined upon going to sea. It
  • would never do, longer to trespass on Po-Po's hospitality; and then,
  • weary somewhat of life in Imeeo, like all sailors ashore, I at last
  • pined for the billows.
  • Now, if her crew were to be credited, the Leviathan was not the craft
  • to our mind. But I had seen the captain, and liked him. He was an
  • uncommonly tall, robust, fine-looking man, in the prime of life.
  • There was a deep crimson spot in the middle of each sunburnt cheek,
  • doubtless the effect of his sea-potations. He was a Vineyarder, or
  • native of the island of Martha's Vineyard (adjoining Nantucket),
  • and--I would have sworn it--a sailor, and no tyrant.
  • Previous to this, we had rather avoided the Leviathan's men, when they
  • came ashore; but now, we purposely threw ourselves in their way, in
  • order to learn more of the vessel.
  • We became acquainted with the third mate, a Prussian, and an old
  • merchant-seaman--a right jolly fellow, with a face like a ruby. We
  • took him to Po-Po's, and gave him a dinner of baked pig and
  • breadfruit; with pipes and tobacco for dessert. The account he gave
  • us of the ship agreed with my own surmises. A cosier old craft never
  • floated; and the captain was the finest man in the world. There was
  • plenty to eat, too; and, at sea, nothing to do but sit on the windlass
  • and sail. The only bad trait about the vessel was this: she had been
  • launched under some baleful star; and so was a luckless ship in the
  • fishery. She dropped her boats into the brine often enough, and they
  • frequently got fast to the whales; but lance and harpoon almost
  • invariably "drew" when darted by the men of the Leviathan. But what of
  • that? We would have all the sport of chasing the monsters, with none
  • of the detestable work which follows their capture. So, hurrah for
  • the coast of Japan! Thither the ship was bound.
  • A word now about the hard stories we heard the first time we visited
  • the ship. They were nothing but idle fictions, got up by the sailors
  • for the purpose of frightening us away, so as to oblige the captain,
  • who was in want of more hands, to lie the longer in a pleasant
  • harbour.
  • The next time the Vineyarder came ashore, we flung ourselves in his
  • path. When informed of our desire to sail with him, he wanted to know
  • our history; and, above all, what countrymen we were. We said that we
  • had left a whaler in Tahiti, some time previous; and, since then, had
  • been--in the most praiseworthy manner--employed upon a plantation. As
  • for our country, sailors belong to no nation in particular; we were,
  • on this occasion, both Yankees. Upon this he looked decidedly
  • incredulous; and freely told us that he verily believed we were both
  • from Sydney.
  • Be it known here that American sea captains, in the Pacific, are
  • mortally afraid of these Sydney gentry; who, to tell the truth,
  • wherever known, are in excessively bad odour. Is there a mutiny on
  • board a ship in the South Seas, ten to one a Sydney man is the
  • ringleader. Ashore, these fellows are equally riotous.
  • It was on this account that we were anxious to conceal the fact of our
  • having belonged to the Julia, though it annoyed me much, thus to deny
  • the dashing little craft. For the same reason, also, the doctor
  • fibbed about his birthplace.
  • Unfortunately, one part of our raiment--Arfretee's blue frocks--we
  • deemed a sort of collateral evidence against us. For, curiously
  • enough, an American sailor is generally distinguished by his red
  • frock; and an English tar by his blue one: thus reversing the
  • national colours. The circumstance was pointed out by the captain; and
  • we quickly explained the anomaly. But, in vain: he seemed
  • inveterately prejudiced against us; and, in particular, eyed the
  • doctor most distrustfully.
  • By way of propping the tatter's pretensions, I was throwing out a hint
  • concerning Kentucky, as a land of tall men, when our Vine-yarder
  • turned away abruptly, and desired to hear nothing more. It was
  • evident that he took Long Ghost for an exceedingly problematical
  • character.
  • Perceiving this, I resolved to see what a private interview would do.
  • So, one afternoon, I found the captain smoking a pipe in the dwelling
  • of a portly old native--one Mai-Mai--who, for a reasonable
  • compensation, did the honours of Partoowye to illustrious strangers.
  • His guest had just risen from a sumptuous meal of baked pig and taro
  • pudding; and the remnants of the repast were still visible. Two
  • reeking bottles, also, with their necks wrenched off, lay upon the
  • mat. All this was encouraging; for, after a good dinner, one feels
  • affluent and amiable, and peculiarly open to conviction. So, at all
  • events, I found the noble Vineyarder.
  • I began by saying that I called for the purpose of setting him right
  • touching certain opinions of his concerning the place of my
  • nativity:--I was an American--thank heaven!--and wanted to convince
  • him of the fact.
  • After looking me in the eye for some time, and, by so doing, revealing
  • an obvious unsteadiness in his own visual organs, he begged me to
  • reach forth my arm. I did so; wondering what upon earth that useful
  • member had to do with the matter in hand.
  • He placed his fingers upon my wrist; and holding them there for a
  • moment, sprang to his feet, and, with much enthusiasm, pronounced me
  • a Yankee, every beat of my pulse!
  • "Here, Mai-Mai!" he cried, "another bottle!" And, when it came, with
  • one stroke of a knife, he summarily beheaded it, and commanded me to
  • drain it to the bottom. He then told me that if I would come on board
  • his vessel the following morning, I would find the ship's articles on
  • the cabin transom.
  • This was getting along famously. But what was to become of the
  • doctor?
  • I forthwith made an adroit allusion to my long friend. But it was
  • worse than useless. The Vineyarder swore he would have nothing to do
  • with him--he (my long friend) was a "bird" from Sydney, and nothing
  • would make him (the man of little faith) believe otherwise.
  • I could not help loving the free-hearted captain; but indignant at
  • this most unaccountable prejudice against my comrade, I abruptly took
  • leave.
  • Upon informing the doctor of the result of the interview, he was
  • greatly amused; and laughingly declared that the Vineyarder must be a
  • penetrating fellow. He then insisted upon my going to sea in the
  • ship, since he well knew how anxious I was to leave. As for himself,
  • on second thoughts, he was no sailor; and although "lands--' men"
  • very often compose part of a whaler's crew, he did not quite relish
  • the idea of occupying a position so humble. In short, he had made up
  • his mind to tarry awhile in Imeeo.
  • I turned the matter over: and at last decided upon quitting the
  • island. The impulse urging me to sea once more, and the prospect of
  • eventually reaching home, were too much to be resisted; especially as
  • the Leviathan, so comfortable a craft, was now bound on her last
  • whaling cruise, and, in little more than a year's time, would be
  • going round Cape Horn.
  • I did not, however, covenant to remain in the vessel for the residue
  • of the voyage; which would have been needlessly binding myself. I
  • merely stipulated for the coming cruise, leaving my subsequent
  • movements unrestrained; for there was no knowing that I might not
  • change my mind, and prefer journeying home by short and easy stages.
  • The next day I paddled off to the ship, signed and sealed, and stepped
  • ashore with my "advance"--fifteen Spanish dollars--tasseling the ends
  • of my neck-handkerchief.
  • I forced half of the silver on Long Ghost; and having little use for
  • the remainder, would have given it to Po-Po as some small return for
  • his kindness; but, although he well knew the value of the coin, not a
  • dollar would he accept.
  • In three days' time the Prussian came to Po-Po's, and told us that the
  • captain, having made good the number of his crew by shipping several
  • islanders, had determined upon sailing with the land breeze at dawn
  • the following morning. These tidings were received in the afternoon.
  • The doctor immediately disappeared, returning soon after with a
  • couple of flasks of wine concealed in the folds of his frock. Through
  • the agency of the Marquesan, he had purchased them from an
  • understrapper of the court.
  • I prevailed upon Po-Po to drink a parting shell; and even little Loo,
  • actually looking conscious that one of her hopeless admirers was
  • about leaving Partoowye for ever, sipped a few drops from a folded
  • leaf. As for the warm-hearted Arfretee, her grief was unbounded. She
  • even besought me to spend my last night under her own palm-thatch;
  • and then, in the morning, she would herself paddle me off to the
  • ship.
  • But this I would not consent to; and so, as something to remember her
  • by, she presented me with a roll of fine matting, and another of
  • tappa. These gifts placed in my hammock, I afterward found very
  • agreeable in the warm latitudes to which we were bound; nor did they
  • fail to awaken most grateful remembrances.
  • About nightfall, we broke away from this generous-hearted household,
  • and hurried down to the water.
  • It was a mad, merry night among the sailors; they had on tap a small
  • cask of wine, procured in the same way as the doctor's flasks.
  • An hour or two after midnight, everything was noiseless; but when the
  • first streak of the dawn showed itself over the mountains, a sharp
  • voice hailed the forecastle, and ordered the ship unmoored.
  • The anchors came up cheerily; the sails were soon set; and with the
  • early breath of the tropical morning, fresh and fragrant from the
  • hillsides, we slowly glided down the bay, and were swept through the
  • opening in the reef. Presently we "hove to," and the canoes came
  • alongside to take off the islanders who had accompanied us thus far.
  • As he stepped over the side, I shook the doctor long and heartily by
  • the hand. I have never seen or heard of him since.
  • Crowding all sail, we braced the yards square; and, the breeze
  • freshening, bowled straight away from the land. Once more the
  • sailor's cradle rocked under me, and I found myself rolling in my
  • gait.
  • By noon, the island had gone down in the horizon; and all before us
  • was the wide Pacific.
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