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  • Title: Typee
  • Author: Herman Melville
  • Release Date: May 1, 2009 [Ebook #28656]
  • Language: English
  • Character set encoding: UTF-8
  • ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TYPEE***
  • [Illustration: FAYAWAY AND I HAD A DELIGHTFUL LITTLE PARTY ON THE
  • LAKE]
  • TYPEE
  • HERMAN MELVILLE
  • ILLUSTRATIONS BY
  • MEAD SCHAEFFER
  • DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY
  • PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
  • CONTENTS
  • CHAPTER PAGE
  • I A LAND-SICK SHIP 1
  • The sea—Longings for shore—A land-sick ship—Destination
  • of the voyagers
  • II TO THE MARQUESAS 5
  • Passage from the cruising ground to the Marquesas—Sleepy
  • times aboard ship—South Sea scenery—Land ho!—The French
  • squadron discovered at anchor in the bay of
  • Nukuheva—Strange pilot—Escort of canoes—A flotilla of
  • cocoa-nuts—Swimming visitors—The _Dolly_ boarded by
  • them—State of affairs that ensue.
  • III AFFAIRS ABOARD 14
  • State of affairs aboard the ship—Contents of her
  • larder—Length of South Seamen’s voyages—Account of a
  • flying whale-man—Determination to leave the vessel—The
  • bay of Nukuheva—The Typees.
  • IV LAST NIGHT ABOARD 21
  • Thoughts previous to attempting an escape—Toby, a
  • fellow-sailor, agrees to share the adventure—Last night
  • aboard the ship.
  • V THE ESCAPE 26
  • A specimen of nautical oratory—Criticisms of the
  • sailors—The starboard watch are given a holiday—The
  • escape to the mountains.
  • VI DISAPPOINTMENT 34
  • The other side of the mountain—Disappointment—Inventory
  • of articles brought from the ship—Division of the stock
  • of bread—Appearance of the interior of the island—A
  • discovery—A ravine and waterfalls—A sleepless
  • night—Further discoveries—My illness—A Marquesan
  • landscape.
  • VII A WILD-GOOSE CHASE 45
  • The important question, Typee or Happar?—A wild-goose
  • chase—My sufferings—Disheartening situation—A night in
  • the ravine—Morning meal—Happy idea of Toby—Journey
  • towards the valley.
  • VIII INTO THE VALLEY 54
  • Perilous passage of the ravine—Descent into the valley.
  • IX CAUTIOUS ADVANCE 63
  • The head of the valley—Cautious advance—A
  • path—Fruit—Discovery of two of the natives—Their
  • singular conduct—Approach towards the inhabited parts of
  • the vale—Sensation produced by our appearance—Reception
  • at the house of one of the natives.
  • X MORNING VISITORS 75
  • Midnight reflections—Morning visitors—A warrior in
  • costume—A savage Æsculapius—Practice of the healing
  • art—Body-servant—A dwelling-house of the valley
  • described—Portraits of its inmates.
  • XI ADVENTURE IN THE DARK 90
  • Officiousness of Kory-Kory—His devotion—A bath in the
  • stream—Want of refinement of the Typee damsels—Stroll
  • with Mehevi—A Typee highway—The Taboo groves—The hoolah
  • hoolah ground—The Ti—Timeworn savages—Hospitality of
  • Mehevi—Midnight musings—Adventure in the
  • dark—Distinguished honours paid to the visitors—Strange
  • procession, and return to the house of Marheyo.
  • XII ADVENTURE OF TOBY 101
  • Attempt to procure relief from Nukuheva—Perilous
  • adventure of Toby in the Happar Mountains—Eloquence of
  • Kory-Kory.
  • XIII A GREAT EVENT 109
  • A great event happens in the valley—The island
  • telegraph—Something befalls Toby—Fayaway displays a
  • tender heart—Melancholy reflections—Mysterious conduct
  • of the islanders—Devotion of Kory-Kory—A rural couch—A
  • luxury—Kory-Kory strikes a light _à la_ Typee.
  • XIV KINDNESS OF THE ISLANDERS 120
  • Kindness of Marheyo and the rest of the islanders—A full
  • description of the bread-fruit tree—Different modes of
  • preparing the fruit.
  • XV MELANCHOLY CONDITION 126
  • Melancholy condition—Occurrence at the Ti—Anecdote of
  • Marheyo—Shaving the head of a warrior.
  • XVI IMPROVEMENT 132
  • Improvement in health and spirits—Felicity of the
  • Typees—A skirmish in the mountain with the warriors of
  • Happar.
  • XVII A STRANGER ARRIVES 140
  • Swimming in company with the girls of the valley—A
  • canoe—Effects of the taboo—A pleasure excursion on the
  • pond—Beautiful freak of Fayaway—Mantua-making—A stranger
  • arrives in the valley—His mysterious conduct—Native
  • oratory—The interview—Its results—Departure of the
  • stranger.
  • XVIII BATTLE OF THE POP-GUNS 155
  • Reflection after Marnoo’s departure—Battle of the
  • pop-guns—Strange conceit of Marheyo—Process of making
  • tappa.
  • XIX DANCES 162
  • History of a day as usually spent in the Typee
  • valley—Dances of the Marquesan girls.
  • XX MONUMENTS 167
  • The spring of Arva Wai—Remarkable monumental
  • remains—Some ideas with regard to the history of the
  • pi-pis found in the valley.
  • XXI A FESTIVAL 171
  • Preparations for a grand festival in the valley—Strange
  • doings in the Taboo Groves—Monument of Calabashes—Gala
  • costume of the Typee damsels—Departure for the festival.
  • XXII THE FEAST OF CALABASHES 178
  • The Feast of Calabashes.
  • XXIII RELIGION OF THE TYPEES 185
  • Ideas suggested by the Feast of Calabashes—Effigy of a
  • dead warrior—A singular superstition—The priest Kolory
  • and the god Moa Artua—Amazing religious observance—A
  • dilapidated shrine—Kory-Kory and the idol—An inference.
  • XXIV BEAUTY OF THE TYPEES 196
  • General information gathered at the festival—Personal
  • beauty of the Typees—Their superiority over the
  • inhabitants of the other islands—Diversity of
  • complexion—A vegetable cosmetic and ointment—Testimony
  • of voyagers to the uncommon beauty of the Marquesans—Few
  • evidences of intercourse with civilized
  • beings—Dilapidated musket—Primitive simplicity of
  • government—Regal dignity of Mehevi.
  • XXV MARRIAGE CUSTOMS 204
  • King Mehevi—Conduct of Marheyo and Mehevi in certain
  • delicate matters—Peculiar system of marriage—Number of
  • population—Uniformity—Embalming—Places of
  • sepulture—Funeral obsequies at Nukuheva—Number of
  • inhabitants in Typee—Location of the dwellings—Happiness
  • enjoyed in the valley.
  • XXVI SOCIAL CONDITIONS 210
  • The social condition and general character of the
  • Typees.
  • XXVII FISHING PARTIES 216
  • Fishing parties—Mode of distributing the fish—Midnight
  • banquet—Timekeeping tapers—Unceremonious style of eating
  • the fish.
  • XXVIII NATURAL HISTORY 220
  • Natural history of the valley—Golden lizards—Tameness of
  • the birds—Mosquitoes—Flies—Dogs—A solitary cat—The
  • climate—The cocoa-nut tree—Singular modes of climbing
  • it—An agile young chief—Fearlessness of the
  • children—Too-too and the cocoa-nut tree—The birds of the
  • valley.
  • XXIX TATTOOING 228
  • A professor of the fine arts—His persecutions—Something
  • about tattooing and tabooing—Two anecdotes in
  • illustration of the latter—A few thoughts on the Typee
  • dialect.
  • XXX MUSIC 238
  • Strange custom of the islanders—Their chanting, and the
  • peculiarity of their voice—Rapture of the king at first
  • hearing a song—A new dignity conferred on the
  • author—Musical instruments in the valley—Admiration of
  • the savages at beholding a pugilistic
  • performance—Swimming infant—Beautiful tresses of the
  • girls—Ointment for the hair.
  • XXXI CANNIBALISM 244
  • Apprehensions of evil—Frightful discovery—Some remarks
  • on cannibalism—Second battle with the Happars—Savage
  • spectacle—Mysterious feast—Subsequent disclosures.
  • XXXII ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE 254
  • The stranger again arrives in the valley—Singular
  • interview with him—Attempt to escape—Failure—Melancholy
  • situation—Sympathy of Marheyo.
  • XXXIII THE ESCAPE 260
  • The escape
  • SEQUEL 270
  • NOTE.—The Author of “Typee” was more than two years in
  • the South Seas, after escaping from the valley, as
  • recounted in the last chapter. Some time after returning
  • home the foregoing narrative was published, though it
  • was little thought at the time that this would be the
  • means of revealing the existence of Toby, who had long
  • been given up for lost. But so it proved. The story of
  • his escape supplies a natural sequel to the adventure,
  • and as such it is now added to the volume. It was
  • related to the Author by Toby himself.
  • APPENDIX 285
  • ILLUSTRATIONS
  • Fayaway and I had a delightful little party on the _Frontispiece_
  • lake FACING PAGE
  • I found him ripe for the enterprise, and a very few 22
  • words sufficed for a mutual understanding between us
  • At last we gained the top of the second elevation 48
  • We were soon completely encircled by a dense throng 68
  • The body was carried into the house and laid on a mat 104
  • Thus arrayed, I would have matched the charming 174
  • Fayaway against any beauty in the world
  • Mehevi 200
  • About midnight I arose and drew the slide 256
  • TYPEE
  • TYPEE
  • CHAPTER I
  • The sea—Longings for shore—A land-sick ship—Destination of the
  • voyagers.
  • Six months at sea! Yes, reader, as I live, six months out of sight of
  • land; cruising after the sperm whale beneath the scorching sun of the
  • Line, and tossed on the billows of the wide-rolling Pacific—the sky above,
  • the sea around, and nothing else! Weeks and weeks ago our fresh provisions
  • were all exhausted. There is not a sweet potato left; not a single yam.
  • Those glorious bunches of bananas which once decorated our stern and
  • quarter-deck, have, alas, disappeared! and the delicious oranges which
  • hung suspended from our tops and stays—they, too, are gone! Yes, they are
  • all departed, and there is nothing left us but salt-horse and sea-biscuit.
  • Oh! for a refreshing glimpse of one blade of grass—for a snuff at the
  • fragrance of a handful of the loamy earth! Is there nothing fresh around
  • us? Is there no green thing to be seen? Yes, the inside of our bulwarks is
  • painted green; but what a vile and sickly hue it is, as if nothing bearing
  • even the semblance of verdure could flourish this weary way from land.
  • Even the bark that once clung to the wood we use for fuel has been gnawed
  • off and devoured by the captain’s pig; and so long ago, too, that the pig
  • himself has in turn been devoured.
  • There is but one solitary tenant in the chicken-coop, once a gay and
  • dapper young cock, bearing him so bravely among the coy hens. But look at
  • him now; there he stands, moping all the day long on that everlasting one
  • leg of his. He turns with disgust from the mouldy corn before him, and the
  • brackish water in his little trough. He mourns no doubt his lost
  • companions, literally snatched from him one by one, and never seen again.
  • But his days of mourning will be few; for Mungo, our black cook, told me
  • yesterday that the word had at last gone forth, and poor Pedro’s fate was
  • sealed. His attenuated body will be laid out upon the captain’s table next
  • Sunday, and long before night will be buried, with all the usual
  • ceremonies, beneath that worthy individual’s vest. Who would believe that
  • there could be any one so cruel as to long for the decapitation of the
  • luckless Pedro; yet the sailors pray every minute, selfish fellows, that
  • the miserable fowl may be brought to his end. They say the captain will
  • never point the ship for the land so long as he has in anticipation a mess
  • of fresh meat. This unhappy bird can alone furnish it; and when he is once
  • devoured, the captain will come to his senses. I wish thee no harm, Peter;
  • but as thou art doomed, sooner or later, to meet the fate of all thy race;
  • and if putting a period to thy existence is to be the signal for our
  • deliverance, why—truth to speak—I wish thy throat cut this very moment;
  • for, oh! how I wish to see the living earth again! The old ship herself
  • longs to look out upon the land from her hawseholes once more, as Jack
  • Lewis said right the other day when the captain found fault with his
  • steering.
  • “Why, d’ye see, Captain Vangs,” says bold Jack, “I’m as good a helmsman as
  • ever put hand to spoke; but none of us can steer the old lady now. We
  • can’t keep her full and bye, sir: watch her ever so close, she will fall
  • off; and then, sir, when I put the helm down so gently and try like to
  • coax her to the work, she won’t take it kindly, but will fall round off
  • again; and it’s all because she knows the land is under the lee, sir, and
  • she won’t go any more to windward.” Ay, and why should she, Jack? didn’t
  • every one of her stout timbers grow on shore, and hasn’t she sensibilities
  • as well as we?
  • Poor old ship! Her very looks denote her desires: how deplorable she
  • appears! The paint on her sides, burnt up by the scorching sun, is puffed
  • out and cracked. See the weeds she trails along with her, and what an
  • unsightly bunch of these horrid barnacles has formed about her
  • stern-piece; and every time she rises on a sea, she shows her copper torn
  • away or hanging in jagged strips.
  • Poor old ship! I say again: for six months she has been rolling and
  • pitching about, never for one moment at rest. But courage, old lass, I
  • hope to see thee soon within a biscuit’s toss of the merry land, riding
  • snugly at anchor in some green cove, and sheltered from the boisterous
  • winds.
  • * * * * * * * * * *
  • “Hurrah, my lads! It’s a settled thing; next week we shape our course to
  • the Marquesas!” The Marquesas! What strange visions of outlandish things
  • does the very name spirit up! Lovely houris—cannibal banquets—groves of
  • cocoa-nuts—coral reefs—tattooed chiefs—and bamboo temples; sunny valleys
  • planted with bread-fruit trees—carved canoes dancing on the flashing blue
  • waters—savage woodlands guarded by horrible idols—_heathenish rites and
  • human sacrifices_.
  • Such were the strangely jumbled anticipations that haunted me during our
  • passage from the cruising ground. I felt an irresistible curiosity to see
  • those islands which the olden voyagers had so glowingly described.
  • The group for which we were now steering (although among the earliest of
  • European discoveries in the South Seas, having been first visited in the
  • year 1595) still continues to be tenanted by beings as strange and
  • barbarous as ever. The missionaries, sent on a heavenly errand, had sailed
  • by their lovely shores, and had abandoned them to their idols of wood and
  • stone. How interesting the circumstances under which they were discovered!
  • In the watery path of Mendanna, cruising in quest of some region of gold,
  • these isles had sprung up like a scene of enchantment, and for a moment
  • the Spaniard believed his bright dream was realized. In honour of the
  • Marquess de Mendoza, then viceroy of Peru—under whose auspices the
  • navigator sailed—he bestowed upon them the name which denoted the rank of
  • his patron, and gave to the world, on his return, a vague and magnificent
  • account of their beauty. But these islands, undisturbed for years,
  • relapsed into their previous obscurity; and it is only recently that
  • anything has been known concerning them. Once in the course of a half
  • century, to be sure, some adventurous rover would break in upon their
  • peaceful repose, and, astonished at the unusual scene, would be almost
  • tempted to claim the merit of a new discovery.
  • Of this interesting group, but little account has ever been given, if we
  • except the slight mention made of them in the sketches of South Sea
  • voyages. Cook, in his repeated circumnavigations of the globe, barely
  • touched at their shores; and all that we know about them is from a few
  • general narratives.
  • Within the last few years, American and English vessels engaged in the
  • extensive whale fisheries of the Pacific have occasionally, when short of
  • provisions, put into the commodious harbour which there is in one of the
  • islands; but a fear of the natives, founded on the recollection of the
  • dreadful fate which many white men have received at their hands, has
  • deterred their crews from intermixing with the population sufficiently to
  • gain any insight into their peculiar customs and manners. Indeed, there is
  • no cluster of islands in the Pacific that has been any length of time
  • discovered, of which so little has hitherto been known as the Marquesas,
  • and it is a pleasing reflection that this narrative of mine will do
  • something towards withdrawing the veil from regions so romantic and
  • beautiful.
  • CHAPTER II
  • Passage from the cruising ground to the Marquesas—Sleepy times
  • aboard ship—South Sea scenery—Land ho!—The French squadron
  • discovered at anchor in the bay of Nukuheva—Strange pilot—Escort
  • of canoes—A flotilla of cocoa-nuts—Swimming visitors—The _Dolly_
  • boarded by them—State of affairs that ensue.
  • I can never forget the eighteen or twenty days during which the light
  • trade-winds were silently sweeping us towards the islands. In pursuit of
  • the sperm whale, we had been cruising on the line some twenty degrees to
  • the westward of the Gallipagos; and all that we had to do, when our course
  • was determined on, was to square in the yards and keep the vessel before
  • the breeze, and then the good ship and the steady gale did the rest
  • between them. The man at the wheel never vexed the old lady with any
  • superfluous steering, but comfortably adjusting his limbs at the tiller,
  • would doze away by the hour. True to her work, the _Dolly_ headed to her
  • course, and like one of those characters who always do best when let
  • alone, she jogged on her way like a veteran old sea-pacer as she was.
  • What a delightful, lazy, languid time we had whilst we were thus gliding
  • along! There was nothing to be done; a circumstance that happily suited
  • our disinclination to do anything. We abandoned the fore-peak altogether,
  • and spreading an awning over the forecastle, slept, ate, and lounged under
  • it the live-long day. Every one seemed to be under the influence of some
  • narcotic. Even the officers aft, whose duty required them never to be
  • seated while keeping a deck watch, vainly endeavoured to keep on their
  • pins; and were obliged invariably to compromise the matter by leaning up
  • against the bulwarks, and gazing abstractedly over the side. Reading was
  • out of the question; take a book in your hand, and you were asleep in an
  • instant.
  • Although I could not avoid yielding in a great measure to the general
  • languor, still at times I contrived to shake off the spell, and to
  • appreciate the beauty of the scene around me. The sky presented a clear
  • expanse of the most delicate blue, except along the skirts of the horizon,
  • where you might see a thin drapery of pale clouds which never varied their
  • form or colour. The long, measured, dirge-like swell of the Pacific came
  • rolling along, with its surface broken by little tiny waves, sparkling in
  • the sunshine. Every now and then a shoal of flying fish, scared from the
  • water under the bows, would leap into the air, and fall the next moment
  • like a shower of silver into the sea. Then you would see the superb
  • albicore with his glittering sides, sailing aloft, and after describing an
  • arc in his descent, disappear on the surface of the water. Far off, the
  • lofty jet of the whale might be seen, and nearer at hand the prowling
  • shark, that villanous footpad of the seas, would come skulking along, and,
  • at a wary distance, regard us with an evil eye. At times, some shapeless
  • monster of the deep, floating on the surface, would, as we approach, sink
  • slowly into the blue waters, and fade away from the sight. But the most
  • impressive feature of the scene was the almost unbroken silence that
  • reigned over sky and water. Scarcely a sound could be heard but the
  • occasional breathing of the grampus, and the rippling at the cut-water.
  • As we drew nearer the land, I hailed with delight the appearance of
  • innumerable sea-fowl. Screaming and whirling in spiral tracks, they would
  • accompany the vessel, and at times alight on our yards and stays. That
  • piratical-looking fellow, appropriately named the man-of-war’s-hawk, with
  • his blood-red bill and raven plumage, would come sweeping round us in
  • gradually diminishing circles, till you could distinctly mark the strange
  • flashings of his eye; and then, as if satisfied with his observation,
  • would sail up into the air and disappear from the view. Soon, other
  • evidences of our vicinity to the land were apparent, and it was not long
  • before the glad announcement of it being in sight was heard from
  • aloft,—given with that peculiar prolongation of sound that a sailor
  • loves—“Land ho!”
  • The captain, darting on deck from the cabin, bawled lustily for his
  • spy-glass; the mate in still louder accents hailed the mast-head with a
  • tremendous “Where-away?” The black cook thrust his woolly head from the
  • galley, and Boatswain, the dog, leaped up between the knight-heads, and
  • barked most furiously. Land ho! Ay, there it was. A hardly perceptible
  • blue irregular outline, indicating the bold contour of the lofty heights
  • of Nukuheva.
  • This island, although generally called one of the Marquesas, is by some
  • navigators considered as forming one of a distinct cluster, comprising the
  • islands of Roohka, Ropo, and Nukuheva; upon which three the appellation of
  • the Washington Group has been bestowed. They form a triangle, and lie
  • within the parallels of 8° 38′ and 9° 32′ south latitude, and 139° 20′ and
  • 140° 10′ west longitude, from Greenwich. With how little propriety they
  • are to be regarded as forming a separate group will be at once apparent,
  • when it is considered that they lie in the immediate vicinity of the other
  • islands, that is to say, less than a degree to the north-west of them;
  • that their inhabitants speak the Marquesan dialect, and that their laws,
  • religion, and general customs are identical. The only reason why they were
  • ever thus arbitrarily distinguished, may be attributed to the singular
  • fact, that their existence was altogether unknown to the world until the
  • year 1791, when they were discovered by Captain Ingraham, of Boston,
  • Massachusetts, nearly two centuries after the discovery of the adjacent
  • islands by the agent of the Spanish Viceroy. Notwithstanding this, I shall
  • follow the example of most voyagers, and treat of them as forming part and
  • parcel of the Marquesas.
  • Nukuheva is the most important of these islands, being the only one at
  • which ships are much in the habit of touching, and is celebrated as being
  • the place where the adventurous Captain Porter refitted his ships during
  • the late war between England and the United States, and whence he sallied
  • out upon the large whaling fleet then sailing under the enemy’s flag in
  • the surrounding seas. This island is about twenty miles in length, and
  • nearly as many in breadth. It has three good harbours on its coast, the
  • largest and best of which is called by the people living in its vicinity,
  • “Tyohee,” and by Captain Porter was denominated Massachusetts Bay. Among
  • the adverse tribes dwelling about the shores of the other bays, and by all
  • voyagers, it is generally known by the name bestowed upon the island
  • itself—Nukuheva. Its inhabitants have become somewhat corrupted, owing to
  • their recent commerce with Europeans; but so far as regards their peculiar
  • customs, and general mode of life, they retain their original primitive
  • character, remaining very nearly in the same state of nature in which they
  • were first beheld by white men. The hostile clans, residing in the more
  • remote sections of the island, and very seldom holding any communication
  • with foreigners, are in every respect unchanged from their earliest known
  • condition.
  • In the bay of Nukuheva was the anchorage we desired to reach. We had
  • perceived the loom of the mountains about sunset; so that, after running
  • all night with a very light breeze, we found ourselves close in with the
  • island the next morning; but as the bay we sought lay on its farther side,
  • we were obliged to sail some distance along the shore, catching, as we
  • proceeded, short glimpses of blooming valleys, deep glens, waterfalls, and
  • waving groves, hidden here and there by projecting and rocky headlands,
  • every moment opening to the view some new and startling scene of beauty.
  • Those who for the first time visit the South Seas, generally are surprised
  • at the appearance of the islands when beheld from the sea. From the vague
  • accounts we sometimes have of their beauty, many people are apt to picture
  • to themselves enamelled and softly swelling plains, shaded over with
  • delicious groves, and watered by purling brooks, and the entire country
  • but little elevated above the surrounding ocean. The reality is very
  • different; bold rock-bound coasts, with the surf beating high against the
  • lofty cliffs, and broken here and there into deep inlets, which open to
  • the view thickly-wooded valleys, separated by the spurs of mountains
  • clothed with tufted grass, and sweeping down towards the sea from an
  • elevated and furrowed interior, form the principal features of these
  • islands.
  • Towards noon we drew abreast the entrance to the harbour, and at last we
  • slowly swept by the intervening promontory, and entered the bay of
  • Nukuheva. No description can do justice to its beauty; but that beauty was
  • lost to me then, and I saw nothing but the tri-coloured flag of France,
  • trailing over the stern of six vessels, whose black hulls, and bristling
  • broadsides, proclaimed their warlike character. There they were, floating
  • in that lovely bay, the green eminences of the shore looking down so
  • tranquilly upon them, as if rebuking the sternness of their aspect. To my
  • eye, nothing could be more out of keeping than the presence of these
  • vessels; but we soon learnt what brought them there. The whole group of
  • islands had just been taken possession of by Rear-Admiral Du Petit
  • Thouars, in the name of the invincible French nation.
  • This item of information was imparted to us by a most extraordinary
  • individual, a genuine South Sea vagabond, who came alongside of us in a
  • whale-boat as soon as we entered the bay, and, by the aid of some
  • benevolent persons at the gangway, was assisted on board, for our visitor
  • was in that interesting stage of intoxication when a man is amiable and
  • helpless. Although he was utterly unable to stand erect, or to navigate
  • his body across the deck, he still magnanimously proffered his services to
  • pilot the ship to a good and secure anchorage. Our captain, however,
  • rather distrusted his ability in this respect, and refused to recognise
  • his claim to the character he assumed; but our gentleman was determined to
  • play his part, for, by dint of much scrambling, he succeeded in getting
  • into the weather-quarter boat, where he steadied himself by holding on to
  • a shroud, and then commenced issuing his commands with amazing volubility
  • and very peculiar gestures. Of course, no one obeyed his orders; but as it
  • was impossible to quiet him, we swept by the ships of the squadron with
  • this strange fellow performing his antics in full view of all the French
  • officers.
  • We afterwards learned that our eccentric friend had been a lieutenant in
  • the English navy, but having disgraced his flag by some criminal conduct
  • in one of the principal ports on the main, he had deserted his ship, and
  • spent many years wandering among the islands of the Pacific, until
  • accidentally being at Nukuheva when the French took possession of the
  • place, he had been appointed pilot of the harbour by the newly constituted
  • authorities.
  • As we slowly advanced up the bay, numerous canoes pushed off from the
  • surrounding shores, and we were soon in the midst of quite a flotilla of
  • them, their savage occupants struggling to get aboard of us, and jostling
  • one another in their ineffectual attempts. Occasionally the projecting
  • out-riggers of their slight shallops, running foul of one another, would
  • become entangled beneath the water, threatening to capsize the canoes,
  • when a scene of confusion would ensue that baffles description. Such
  • strange outcries and passionate gesticulations I never certainly heard or
  • saw before. You would have thought the islanders were on the point of
  • flying at one another’s throats, whereas they were only amicably engaged
  • in disentangling their boats.
  • Scattered here and there among the canoes might be seen numbers of
  • cocoa-nuts floating closely together in circular groups, and bobbing up
  • and down with every wave. By some inexplicable means these cocoa-nuts were
  • all steadily approaching towards the ship. As I leaned curiously over the
  • side, endeavouring to solve their mysterious movements, one mass, far in
  • advance of the rest, attracted my attention. In its centre was something I
  • could take for nothing else than a cocoa-nut, but which I certainly
  • considered one of the most extraordinary specimens of the fruit I had ever
  • seen. It kept twirling and dancing about among the rest in the most
  • singular manner: and as it drew nearer, I thought it bore a remarkable
  • resemblance to the brown shaven skull of one of the savages. Presently it
  • betrayed a pair of eyes, and soon I became aware that what I had supposed
  • to have been one of the fruit was nothing else than the head of an
  • islander, who had adopted this singular method of bringing his produce to
  • market. The cocoa-nuts were all attached to one another by strips of the
  • husk, partly torn from the shell, and rudely fastened together. Their
  • proprietor, inserting his head into the midst of them, impelled his
  • necklace of cocoa-nuts through the water by striking out beneath the
  • surface with his feet.
  • I was somewhat astonished to perceive that among the number of natives
  • that surrounded us, not a single female was to be seen. At that time I was
  • ignorant of the fact that by the operation of the “taboo,” the use of
  • canoes in all parts of the island is rigorously prohibited to the entire
  • sex, for whom it is death even to be seen entering one when hauled on
  • shore; consequently, whenever a Marquesan lady voyages by water, she puts
  • in requisition the paddles of her own fair body.
  • We had approached within a mile and a half perhaps of the foot of the bay,
  • when some of the islanders, who by this time had managed to scramble
  • aboard of us at the risk of swamping their canoes, directed our attention
  • to a singular commotion in the water ahead of the vessel. At first I
  • imagined it to be produced by a shoal of fish sporting on the surface, but
  • our savage friends assured us that it was caused by a shoal of
  • “whinhenies” (young girls), who in this manner were coming off from the
  • shore to welcome us. As they drew nearer, and I watched the rising and
  • sinking of their forms, and beheld the uplifted right arm bearing above
  • the water the girdle of tappa, and their long dark hair trailing beside
  • them as they swam, I almost fancied they could be nothing else than so
  • many mermaids:—and very like mermaids they behaved too.
  • We were still some distance from the beach, and under slow headway, when
  • we sailed right into the midst of these swimming nymphs, and they boarded
  • us at every quarter; many seizing hold of the chainplates and springing
  • into the chains; others, at the peril of being run over by the vessel in
  • her course, catching at the bob-stays, and wreathing their slender forms
  • about the ropes, hung suspended in the air. All of them at length
  • succeeded in getting up the ship’s side, where they clung dripping with
  • the brine and glowing from the bath, their jet-black tresses streaming
  • over their shoulders, and half enveloping their otherwise naked forms.
  • There they hung, sparkling with savage vivacity, laughing gaily at one
  • another, and chattering away with infinite glee. Nor were they idle the
  • while, for each one performed the simple offices of the toilet for the
  • other. Their luxuriant locks, wound up and twisted into the smallest
  • possible compass, were freed from the briny element; the whole person
  • carefully dried, and from a little round shell that passed from hand to
  • hand, anointed with a fragrant oil: their adornments were completed by
  • passing a few loose folds of white tappa, in a modest cincture, around the
  • waist. Thus arrayed they no longer hesitated, but flung themselves lightly
  • over the bulwarks, and were quickly frolicking about the decks. Many of
  • them went forward, perching upon the head-rails or running out upon the
  • bow-sprit, while others seated themselves upon the taffrail, or reclined
  • at full length upon the boats.
  • Their appearance perfectly amazed me; their extreme youth, the light clear
  • brown of their complexions, their delicate features, and inexpressibly
  • graceful figures, their softly moulded limbs, and free unstudied action,
  • seemed as strange as beautiful.
  • The _Dolly_ was fairly captured; and never I will say was vessel carried
  • before by such a dashing and irresistible party of boarders. The ship
  • taken, we could not do otherwise than yield ourselves prisoners, and for
  • the whole period that she remained in the bay, the _Dolly_, as well as her
  • crew, were completely in the hands of the mermaids.
  • In the evening after we had come to an anchor, the deck was illuminated
  • with lanterns, and this picturesque band of sylphs, tricked out with
  • flowers, and dressed in robes of variegated tappa, got up a ball in great
  • style. These females are passionately fond of dancing, and in the wild
  • grace and spirit of their style excel everything that I have ever seen.
  • The varied dances of the Marquesan girls are beautiful in the extreme, but
  • there is an abandoned voluptuousness in their character which I dare not
  • attempt to describe.
  • Our ship was now wholly given up to every species of riot and debauchery.
  • The grossest licentiousness and the most shameful inebriety prevailed,
  • with occasional and but short-lived interruptions, through the whole
  • period of her stay. Alas for the poor savages when exposed to the
  • influence of these polluting examples! Unsophisticated and confiding, they
  • are easily led into every vice, and humanity weeps over the ruin thus
  • remorselessly inflicted upon them by their European civilizers. Thrice
  • happy are they who, inhabiting some yet undiscovered island in the midst
  • of the ocean, have never been brought into contaminating contact with the
  • white man.
  • CHAPTER III
  • State of affairs aboard the ship—Contents of her larder—Length of
  • South Seamen’s voyages—Account of a flying whale-man—Determination
  • to leave the vessel—The bay of Nukuheva—The Typees.
  • It was in the summer of 1842, that we arrived at the islands. Our ship had
  • not been many days in the harbour of Nukuheva, before I came to the
  • determination of leaving her. That my reasons for resolving to take this
  • step were numerous and weighty, may be inferred from the fact that I chose
  • rather to risk my fortunes among the savages of the island than to endure
  • another voyage on board the _Dolly_. To use the concise, point-blank
  • phrase of the sailors, I had made up my mind to “run away.” Now, as a
  • meaning is generally attached to these two words no way flattering to the
  • individual to whom they are applied, it behoves me, for the sake of my own
  • character, to offer some explanation of my conduct.
  • When I entered on board the _Dolly_, I signed, as a matter of course, the
  • ship’s articles, thereby voluntarily engaging and legally binding myself
  • to serve in a certain capacity for the period of the voyage; and, special
  • considerations apart, I was of course bound to fulfil the agreement. But
  • in all contracts, if one party fail to perform his share of the compact,
  • is not the other virtually absolved from his liability? Who is there who
  • will not answer in the affirmative?
  • Having settled the principle, then, let me apply it to the particular case
  • in question. In numberless instances had not only the implied but the
  • specified conditions of the articles been violated on the part of the ship
  • in which I served. The usage on board of her was tyrannical; the sick had
  • been inhumanly neglected; the provisions had been doled out in scanty
  • allowance; and her cruises were unreasonably protracted. The captain was
  • the author of these abuses; it was in vain to think that he would either
  • remedy them, or alter his conduct, which was arbitrary and violent in the
  • extreme. His prompt reply to all complaints and remonstrances was—the
  • butt-end of a hand-spike, so convincingly administered as effectually to
  • silence the aggrieved party.
  • To whom could we apply for redress? We had left both law and equity on the
  • other side of the Cape; and unfortunately, with a very few exceptions, our
  • crew was composed of a parcel of dastardly and mean-spirited wretches,
  • divided among themselves, and only united in enduring without resistance
  • the unmitigated tyranny of the captain. It would have been mere madness
  • for any two or three of the number, unassisted by the rest, to attempt
  • making a stand against his ill usage. They would only have called down
  • upon themselves the particular vengeance of this “Lord of the Plank,” and
  • subjected their shipmates to additional hardships.
  • But, after all, these things could have been endured awhile, had we
  • entertained the hope of being speedily delivered from them by the due
  • completion of the terms of our servitude. But what a dismal prospect
  • awaited us in this quarter! The longevity of Cape Horn whaling voyages is
  • proverbial, frequently extending over a period of four or five years.
  • Some long-haired, bare-necked youths, who, forced by the united influences
  • of a roving spirit and hard times, embark at Nantucket for a pleasure
  • excursion to the Pacific, and whose anxious mothers provide them with
  • bottled milk for the occasion, oftentimes return very respectable
  • middle-aged gentlemen.
  • The very preparations made for one of these expeditions are enough to
  • frighten one. As the vessel carries out no cargo, her hold is filled with
  • provisions for her own consumption. The owners, who officiate as caterers
  • for the voyage, supply the larder with an abundance of dainties. Delicate
  • morsels of beef and pork, cut on scientific principles from every part of
  • the animal, and of all conceivable shapes and sizes, are carefully packed
  • in salt, and stored away in barrels; affording a never-ending variety in
  • their different degrees of toughness, and in the peculiarities of their
  • saline properties. Choice old water too, decanted into stout six-barrel
  • casks, and two pints of which is allowed every day to each soul on board;
  • together with ample store of sea-bread, previously reduced to a state of
  • petrifaction, with a view to preserve it either from decay or consumption
  • in the ordinary mode, are likewise provided for the nourishment and
  • gastronomic enjoyment of the crew.
  • But not to speak of the quality of these articles of sailors’ fare, the
  • abundance in which they are put on board a whaling vessel is almost
  • incredible. Oftentimes, when we had occasion to break out in the hold, and
  • I beheld the successive tiers of casks and barrels, whose contents were
  • all destined to be consumed in due course by the ship’s company, my heart
  • has sunk within me.
  • Although, as a general case, a ship unlucky in falling in with whales
  • continues to cruise after them until she has barely sufficient provisions
  • remaining to take her home, turning round then quietly and making the best
  • of her way to her friends, yet there are instances when even this natural
  • obstacle to the further prosecution of the voyage is overcome by
  • headstrong captains, who, bartering the fruits of their hard-earned toils
  • for a new supply of provisions in some of the ports of Chili or Peru,
  • begin the voyage afresh with unabated zeal and perseverance. It is in vain
  • that the owners write urgent letters to him to sail for home, and for
  • their sake to bring back the ship, since it appears he can put nothing in
  • her. Not he. He has registered a vow: he will fill his vessel with good
  • sperm oil, or failing to do so, never again strike Yankee soundings.
  • I heard of one whaler, which after many years’ absence was given up for
  • lost. The last that had been heard of her was a shadowy report of her
  • having touched at some of those unstable islands in the far Pacific, whose
  • eccentric wanderings are carefully noted in each new edition of the South
  • Sea charts. After a long interval, however, the _Perseverance_—for that
  • was her name—was spoken somewhere in the vicinity of the ends of the
  • earth, cruising along as leisurely as ever, her sails all bepatched and
  • bequilted with rope-yarns, her spars fished with old pipe staves, and her
  • rigging knotted and spliced in every possible direction. Her crew was
  • composed of some twenty venerable Greenwich-pensioner-looking old salts,
  • who just managed to hobble about deck. The ends of all the running ropes,
  • with the exception of the signal halyards and poop-down-haul, were rove
  • through snatch-blocks, and led to the capstan or windlass, so that not a
  • yard was braced or a sail set without the assistance of machinery.
  • Her hull was encrusted with barnacles, which completely encased her. Three
  • pet sharks followed in her wake, and every day came alongside to regale
  • themselves from the contents of the cook’s bucket, which were pitched over
  • to them. A vast shoal of bonetas and albicores always kept her company.
  • Such was the account I heard of this vessel, and the remembrance of it
  • always haunted me; what eventually became of her I never learned; at any
  • rate she never reached home, and I suppose she is still regularly tacking
  • twice in the twenty-four hours somewhere off Buggerry Island, or the
  • Devil’s-Tail Peak.
  • Having said thus much touching the usual length of these voyages, when I
  • inform the reader that ours had as it were just commenced, we being only
  • fifteen months out, and even at that time hailed as a late arrival, and
  • boarded for news, he will readily perceive that there was little to
  • encourage one in looking forward to the future, especially as I had always
  • had a presentiment that we should make an unfortunate voyage, and our
  • experience so far had justified the expectation.
  • I may here state, and on my faith as an honest man, that some time after
  • arriving home from my adventures, I learned that this vessel was still in
  • the Pacific, and that she had met with very poor success in the fishery.
  • Very many of her crew, also, left her; and her voyage lasted about five
  • years.
  • But to return to my narrative. Placed in these circumstances, then, with
  • no prospect of matters mending if I remained aboard the _Dolly_, I at once
  • made up my mind to leave her: to be sure, it was rather an inglorious
  • thing to steal away privately from those at whose hands I had received
  • wrongs and outrages that I could not resent; but how was such a course to
  • be avoided when it was the only alternative left me? Having made up my
  • mind, I proceeded to acquire all the information I could obtain relating
  • to the island and its inhabitants, with a view of shaping my plans of
  • escape accordingly. The result of these inquiries I will now state, in
  • order that the ensuing narrative may be the better understood.
  • The bay of Nukuheva, in which we were then lying, is an expanse of water
  • not unlike in figure the space included within the limits of a horse-shoe.
  • It is, perhaps, nine miles in circumference. You approach it from the sea
  • by a narrow entrance, flanked on either side by two small twin islets
  • which soar conically to the height of some five hundred feet. From these
  • the shore recedes on both hands, and describes a deep semicircle.
  • From the verge of the water the land rises uniformly on all sides, with
  • green and sloping acclivities, until from gently rolling hillsides and
  • moderate elevations it insensibly swells into lofty and majestic heights,
  • whose blue outlines, ranged all around, close in the view. The beautiful
  • aspect of the shore is heightened by deep and romantic glens, which come
  • down to it at almost equal distances, all apparently radiating from a
  • common centre, and the upper extremities of which are lost to the eye
  • beneath the shadow of the mountains. Down each of these little valleys
  • flows a clear stream, here and there assuming the form of a slender
  • cascade, then stealing invisibly along until it bursts upon the sight
  • again in larger and more noisy waterfalls, and at last demurely wanders
  • along to the sea.
  • The houses of the natives, constructed of the yellow bamboo, tastefully
  • twisted together in a kind of wickerwork, and thatched with the long
  • tapering leaves of the palmetto, are scattered irregularly along these
  • valleys beneath the shady branches of the cocoa-nut trees.
  • Nothing can exceed the imposing scenery of this bay. Viewed from our ship
  • as she lay at anchor in the middle of the harbour, it presented the
  • appearance of a vast natural amphitheatre in decay, and overgrown with
  • vines, the deep glens that furrowed its sides appearing like enormous
  • fissures caused by the ravages of time. Very often when lost in admiration
  • at its beauty, I have experienced a pang of regret that a scene so
  • enchanting should be hidden from the world in these remote seas, and
  • seldom meet the eyes of devoted lovers of nature.
  • Besides this bay the shores of the island are indented by several other
  • extensive inlets, into which descend broad and verdant valleys. These are
  • inhabited by as many distinct tribes of savages, who, although speaking
  • kindred dialects of a common language, and having the same religion and
  • laws, have from time immemorial waged hereditary warfare against each
  • other. The intervening mountains, generally two or three thousand feet
  • above the level of the sea, geographically define the territories of each
  • of these hostile tribes, who never cross them, save on some expedition of
  • war or plunder. Immediately adjacent to Nukuheva, and only separated from
  • it by the mountains seen from the harbour, lies the lovely valley of
  • Happar, whose inmates cherish the most friendly relations with the
  • inhabitants of Nukuheva. On the other side of Happar, and closely
  • adjoining it, is the magnificent valley of the dreaded Typees, the
  • unappeasable enemies of both these tribes.
  • These celebrated warriors appear to inspire the other islanders with
  • unspeakable terrors. Their very name is a frightful one; for the word
  • “Typee” in the Marquesan dialect signifies a lover of human flesh. It is
  • rather singular that the title should have been bestowed upon them
  • exclusively, inasmuch as the natives of all this group are irreclaimable
  • cannibals. The name may, perhaps, have been given to denote the peculiar
  • ferocity of this clan, and to convey a special stigma along with it.
  • These same Typees enjoy a prodigious notoriety all over the islands. The
  • natives of Nukuheva would frequently recount in pantomime to our ship’s
  • company their terrible feats, and would show the marks of wounds they had
  • received in desperate encounters with them. When ashore they would, try to
  • frighten us by pointing to one of their own number, and calling him a
  • Typee, manifesting no little surprise that we did not take to our heels at
  • so terrible an announcement. It was quite amusing, too, to see with what
  • earnestness they disclaimed all cannibal propensities on their own part,
  • while they denounced their enemies—the Typees—as inveterate gormandizers
  • of human flesh; but this is a peculiarity to which I shall hereafter have
  • occasion to allude.
  • Although I was convinced that the inhabitants of our bay were as arrant
  • cannibals as any of the other tribes on the island, still I could not but
  • feel a particular and most unqualified repugnance to the aforesaid Typees.
  • Even before visiting the Marquesas, I had heard from men who had touched
  • at the group on former voyages some revolting stories in connection with
  • these savages; and fresh in my remembrance was the adventure of the master
  • of the _Katherine_, who only a few months previous, imprudently venturing
  • into this bay in an armed boat for the purpose of barter, was seized by
  • the natives, carried back a little distance into their valley, and was
  • only saved from a cruel death by the intervention of a young girl, who
  • facilitated his escape by night along the beach to Nukuheva.
  • I had heard, too, of an English vessel that many years ago, after a weary
  • cruise, sought to enter the bay of Nukuheva, and arriving within two or
  • three miles of the land, was met by a large canoe filled with natives, who
  • offered to lead the way to the place of their destination. The captain,
  • unacquainted with the localities of the island, joyfully acceded to the
  • proposition—the canoe paddled on and the ship followed. She was soon
  • conducted to a beautiful inlet, and dropped her anchor in its waters
  • beneath the shadows of the lofty shore. That same night the perfidious
  • Typees, who had thus inveigled her into their fatal bay, flocked aboard
  • the doomed vessel by hundreds, and at a given signal murdered every soul
  • on board.
  • CHAPTER IV
  • Thoughts previous to attempting an escape—Toby, a fellow-sailor,
  • agrees to share the adventure—Last night aboard the ship.
  • Having fully resolved to leave the vessel clandestinely, and having
  • acquired all the knowledge concerning the bay that I could obtain under
  • the circumstances in which I was placed, I now deliberately turned over in
  • my mind every plan of escape that suggested itself, being determined to
  • act with all possible prudence in an attempt where failure would be
  • attended with so many disagreeable consequences. The idea of being taken
  • and brought back ignominiously to the ship was so inexpressibly repulsive
  • to me, that I was determined by no hasty and imprudent measures to render
  • such an event probable.
  • I knew that our worthy captain, who felt such a paternal solicitude for
  • the welfare of his crew, would not willingly consent that one of his best
  • hands should encounter the perils of a sojourn among the natives of a
  • barbarous island; and I was certain that in the event of my disappearance
  • his fatherly anxiety would prompt him to offer, by way of a reward, yard
  • upon yard of gaily printed calico for my apprehension. He might even have
  • appreciated my services at the value of a musket, in which case I felt
  • perfectly certain that the whole population of the bay would be
  • immediately upon my track, incited by the prospect of so magnificent a
  • bounty.
  • Having ascertained the fact before alluded to, that the islanders, from
  • motives of precaution, dwelt together in the depths of the valleys, and
  • avoided wandering about the more elevated portions of the shore, unless
  • bound on some expedition of war or plunder, I concluded that if I could
  • effect unperceived a passage to the mountains, I might easily remain among
  • them, supporting myself by such fruits as came in my way until the sailing
  • of the ship, an event of which I could not fail to be immediately
  • apprized, as from my lofty position I should command a view of the entire
  • harbour.
  • The idea pleased me greatly. It seemed to combine a great deal of
  • practicability with no inconsiderable enjoyment in a quiet way; for how
  • delightful it would be to look down upon the detested old vessel from the
  • height of some thousand feet, and contrast the verdant scenery about me
  • with the recollection of her narrow decks and gloomy forecastle! Why, it
  • was really refreshing even to think of it; and so I straightway fell to
  • picturing myself seated beneath a cocoa-nut tree on the brow of the
  • mountain, with a cluster of plantains within easy reach, criticizing her
  • nautical evolutions as she was working her way out of the harbour.
  • To be sure there was one rather unpleasant drawback to these agreeable
  • anticipations—the possibility of falling in with a foraging party of these
  • same bloody-minded Typees, whose appetites, edged perhaps by the air of so
  • elevated a region, might prompt them to devour one. This, I must confess,
  • was the most disagreeable view of the matter.
  • Just to think of a party of these unnatural gourmands taking it into their
  • heads to make a convivial meal of a poor devil, who would have no means of
  • escape or defence: however, there was no help for it. I was willing to
  • encounter some risks in order to accomplish my object, and counted much
  • upon my ability to elude these prowling cannibals amongst the many coverts
  • which the mountains afforded. Besides, the chances were ten to one in my
  • favour that they would none of them quit their own fastnesses.
  • I had determined not to communicate my design of withdrawing from the
  • vessel to any of my shipmates, and least of all to solicit any one to
  • accompany me in my flight. But it so happened one night, that being upon
  • deck, revolving over in my mind various plans of escape, I perceived one
  • of the ship’s company leaning over the bulwarks, apparently plunged in a
  • profound reverie. He was a young fellow about my own age, for whom I had
  • all along entertained a great regard; and Toby, such was the name by which
  • he went among us, for his real name he would never tell us, was every way
  • worthy of it. He was active, ready, and obliging, of dauntless courage,
  • and singularly open and fearless in the expression of his feelings. I had
  • on more than one occasion got him out of scrapes into which this had led
  • him; and I know not whether it was from this cause, or a certain
  • congeniality of sentiment between us, that he had always shown a
  • partiality for my society. We had battled out many a long watch together,
  • beguiling the weary hours with chat, song, and story, mingled with a good
  • many imprecations upon the hard destiny it seemed our common fortune to
  • encounter.
  • [Illustration: I FOUND HIM RIPE FOR THE ENTERPRISE, AND A VERY FEW
  • WORDS SUFFICED FOR A MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING BETWEEN US]
  • Toby, like myself, had evidently moved in a different sphere of life, and
  • his conversation at times betrayed this, although he was anxious to
  • conceal it. He was one of that class of rovers you sometimes meet at sea,
  • who never reveal their origin, never allude to home, and go rambling over
  • the world as if pursued by some mysterious fate they cannot possibly
  • elude.
  • There was much even in the appearance of Toby calculated to draw me
  • towards him, for while the greater part of the crew were as coarse in
  • person as in mind, Toby was endowed with a remarkably prepossessing
  • exterior. Arrayed in his blue frock and duck trousers, he was as smart a
  • looking sailor as ever stepped upon a deck; he was singularly small and
  • slightly made, with great flexibility of limb. His naturally dark
  • complexion had been deepened by exposure to the tropical sun, and a mass
  • of jetty locks clustered about his temples, and threw a darker shade into
  • his large black eyes. He was a strange wayward being, moody, fitful, and
  • melancholy—at times almost morose. He had a quick and fiery temper too,
  • which, when thoroughly roused, transported him into a state bordering on
  • delirium.
  • It is strange the power that a mind of deep passion has over feebler
  • natures. I have seen a brawny fellow, with no lack of ordinary courage,
  • fairly quail before this slender stripling, when in one of his furious
  • fits. But these paroxysms seldom occurred, and in them my big-hearted
  • shipmate vented the bile which more calm-tempered individuals get rid of
  • by a continual pettishness at trivial annoyances.
  • No one ever saw Toby laugh—I mean in the hearty abandonment of
  • broad-mouthed mirth. He did smile sometimes, it is true; and there was a
  • good deal of dry, sarcastic humour about him, which told the more from the
  • imperturbable gravity of his tone and manner.
  • Latterly I had observed that Toby’s melancholy had greatly increased, and
  • I had frequently seen him since our arrival at the island gazing wistfully
  • upon the shore, when the remainder of the crew would be rioting below. I
  • was aware that he entertained a cordial detestation of the ship, and
  • believed that should a fair chance of escape present itself, he would
  • embrace it willingly. But the attempt was so perilous in the place where
  • we then lay, that I supposed myself the only individual on board the ship
  • who was sufficiently reckless to think of it. In this, however, I was
  • mistaken.
  • When I perceived Toby leaning, as I have mentioned, against the bulwarks
  • and buried in thought, it struck me at once that the subject of his
  • meditations might be the same as my own. And if it be so, thought I, is he
  • not the very one of all my shipmates whom I would choose for the partner
  • of my adventure? and why should I not have some comrade with me to divide
  • its dangers and alleviate its hardships? Perhaps I might be obliged to lie
  • concealed among the mountains for weeks. In such an event what a solace
  • would a companion be?
  • These thoughts passed rapidly through my mind, and I wondered why I had
  • not before considered the matter in this light. But it was not too late. A
  • tap upon the shoulder served to rouse Toby from his reverie; I found him
  • ripe for the enterprise, and a very few words sufficed for a mutual
  • understanding between us. In an hour’s time we had arranged all the
  • preliminaries, and decided upon our plan of action. We then ratified our
  • engagement with an affectionate wedding of palms, and to elude suspicion
  • repaired each to his hammock, to spend the last night on board the
  • _Dolly_.
  • The next day the starboard watch, to which we both belonged, was to be
  • sent ashore on liberty; and, availing ourselves of this opportunity we
  • determined, as soon after landing as possible, to separate ourselves from
  • the rest of the men without exciting their suspicions, and strike back at
  • once for the mountains. Seen from the ship, the summits appeared
  • inaccessible, but here and there sloping spurs extended from them almost
  • into the sea, buttressing the lofty elevations with which they were
  • connected, and forming those radiating valleys I have before described.
  • One of these ridges, which appeared more practicable than the rest, we
  • determined to climb, convinced that it would conduct us to the heights
  • beyond. Accordingly, we carefully observed its bearings and locality from
  • the ship, so that when ashore we should run no chance of missing it.
  • In all this the leading object we had in view was to seclude ourselves
  • from sight until the departure of the vessel; then to take our chance as
  • to the reception the Nukuheva natives might give us; and after remaining
  • upon the island as long as we found our stay agreeable, to leave it the
  • first favourable opportunity that offered.
  • CHAPTER V
  • A specimen of nautical oratory—Criticisms of the sailors—The
  • starboard watch are given a holiday—The escape to the mountains.
  • Early the next morning the starboard watch were mustered upon the
  • quarter-deck, and our worthy captain, standing in the cabin gangway,
  • harangued us as follows:—
  • “Now, men, as we are just off a six month’s cruise, and have got through
  • most all our work in port here, I suppose you want to go ashore. Well, I
  • mean to give your watch liberty to-day, so you may get ready as soon as
  • you please, and go; but understand this, I am going to give you liberty
  • because I suppose you would growl like so many old quarter gunners if I
  • didn’t; at the same time, if you’ll take my advice, every mother’s son of
  • you will stay aboard, and keep out of the way of the bloody cannibals
  • altogether. Ten to one, men, if you go ashore, you will get into some
  • infernal row, and that will be the end of you; for if these tattooed
  • scoundrels get you a little ways back into their valleys, they’ll nab
  • you—that you may be certain of. Plenty of white men have gone ashore here
  • and never been seen any more. There was the old _Dido_, she put in here
  • about two years ago, and sent one watch off on liberty; they never were
  • heard of again for a week—the natives swore they didn’t know where they
  • were—and only three of them ever got back to the ship again, and one with
  • his face damaged for life, for the cursed heathens tattooed a broad patch
  • clean across his figure head. But it will be no use talking to you, for go
  • you will, that I see plainly; so all I have to say is, that you need not
  • blame me if the islanders make a meal of you. You may stand some chance of
  • escaping them though, if you keep close about the French encampment, and
  • are back to the ship again before sunset. Keep that much in your mind, if
  • you forget all the rest I’ve been saying to you. There, go forward: bear a
  • hand and rig yourselves, and stand by for a call. At two bells the boat
  • will be manned to take you off, and the Lord have mercy on you!”
  • Various were the emotions depicted upon the countenances of the starboard
  • watch whilst listening to this address; but on its conclusion there was a
  • general move towards the forecastle, and we soon were all busily engaged
  • in getting ready for the holiday so auspiciously announced by the skipper.
  • During these preparations, his harangue was commented upon in no very
  • measured terms; and one of the party, after denouncing him as a lying old
  • son of a sea-cook who begrudged a fellow a few hours’ liberty, exclaimed
  • with an oath, “But you don’t bounce me out of my liberty, old chap, for
  • all your yarns; for I would go ashore if every pebble on the beach was a
  • live coal, and every stick a gridiron, and the cannibals stood ready to
  • broil me on landing.”
  • The spirit of this sentiment was responded to by all hands, and we
  • resolved that in spite of the captain’s croakings we would make a glorious
  • day of it.
  • But Toby and I had our own game to play, and we availed ourselves of the
  • confusion which always reigns among a ship’s company preparatory to going
  • ashore, to confer together and complete our arrangements. As our object
  • was to effect as rapid a flight as possible to the mountains, we
  • determined not to encumber ourselves with any superfluous apparel; and
  • accordingly, while the rest were rigging themselves out with some idea of
  • making a display, we were content to put on new stout duck trousers,
  • serviceable pumps, and heavy Havre frocks, which, with a Payta hat,
  • completed our equipment.
  • When our shipmates wondered at this, Toby exclaimed, in his odd grave way,
  • that the rest might do as they liked, but that he for one preserved his
  • go-ashore traps for the Spanish main, where the tie of a sailor’s
  • neckerchief might make some difference; but as for a parcel of unbreeched
  • heathen, he wouldn’t go to the bottom of his chest for any of them, and
  • was half disposed to appear among them in buff himself. The men laughed at
  • what they thought was one of his strange conceits, and so we escaped
  • suspicion.
  • It may appear singular that we should have been thus on our guard with our
  • own shipmates; but there were some among us who, had they possessed the
  • least inkling of our project, would, for a paltry hope of reward, have
  • immediately communicated it to the captain.
  • As soon as two bells struck, the word was passed for the liberty-men to
  • get into the boat. I lingered behind in the forecastle a moment, to take a
  • parting glance at its familiar features, and just as I was about to ascend
  • to the deck, my eye happened to light on the bread-barge and beef-kid,
  • which contained the remnants of our last hasty meal. Although I had never
  • before thought of providing anything in the way of food for our
  • expedition, as I fully relied upon the fruits of the island to sustain us
  • wherever we might wander, yet I could not resist the inclination I felt to
  • provide a luncheon from the relics before me. Accordingly I took a double
  • handful of those small, broken, flinty bits of biscuit which generally go
  • by the name of “midshipmen’s nuts,” and thrust them into the bosom of my
  • frock; in which same ample receptacle I had previously stowed away several
  • pounds of tobacco and a few yards of cotton cloth,—articles with which I
  • intended to purchase the good-will of the natives, as soon as we should
  • appear among them after the departure of our vessel.
  • This last addition to my stock caused a considerable protuberance in
  • front, which I abated in a measure by shaking the bits of bread around my
  • waist, and distributing the plugs of tobacco among the folds of the
  • garment.
  • Hardly had I completed these arrangements when my name was sung out by a
  • dozen voices, and I sprung upon the deck, where I found all the party in
  • the boat, and impatient to shove off. I dropped over the side, and seated
  • myself, with the rest of the watch, in the stern sheets, while the poor
  • larboarders shipped their oars, and commenced pulling us ashore.
  • This happened to be the rainy season at the islands, and the heavens had
  • nearly the whole morning betokened one of those heavy showers which,
  • during this period, so frequently occur. The large drops fell bubbling
  • into the water shortly after our leaving the ship, and by the time we had
  • effected a landing, it poured down in torrents. We fled for shelter under
  • cover of an immense canoe-house, which stood hard by the beach, and waited
  • for the first fury of the storm to pass.
  • It continued, however, without cessation; and the monotonous beating of
  • the rain overhead began to exert a drowsy influence upon the men, who,
  • throwing themselves here and there upon the large war-canoes, after
  • chatting awhile, all fell asleep.
  • This was the opportunity we desired, and Toby and I availed ourselves of
  • it at once, by stealing out of the canoe-house, and plunging into the
  • depths of an extensive grove that was in its rear. After ten minutes’
  • rapid progress, we gained an open space, from which we could just descry
  • the ridge we intended to mount looming dimly through the mists of the
  • tropical shower, and distant from us, as we estimated, something more than
  • a mile. Our direct course towards it lay through a rather populous part of
  • the bay; but desirous as we were of evading the natives and securing an
  • unmolested retreat to the mountains, we determined, by taking a circuit
  • through some extensive thickets, to avoid their vicinity altogether.
  • The heavy rain that still continued to fall without intermission, favoured
  • our enterprise, as it drove the islanders into their houses, and prevented
  • any casual meeting with them. Our heavy frocks soon became completely
  • saturated with water, and by their weight, and that of the articles we had
  • concealed beneath them, not a little impeded our progress. But it was no
  • time to pause, when at any moment we might be surprised by a body of the
  • savages, and forced at the very outset to relinquish our undertaking.
  • Since leaving the canoe-house we had scarcely exchanged a single syllable
  • with one another, but when we entered a second narrow opening in the wood,
  • and again caught sight of the ridge before us, I took Toby by the arm, and
  • pointing along its sloping outline to the lofty heights at its extremity,
  • said, in a low tone, “Now, Toby, not a word, nor a glance backward, till
  • we stand on the summit of yonder mountain; so no more lingering, but let
  • us shove ahead while we can, and in a few hours’ time we may laugh aloud.
  • You are the lightest and the nimblest, so lead on, and I will follow.”
  • “All right, brother,” said Toby, “quick’s our play, only let’s keep close
  • together, that’s all”; and so saying, with a bound like a young roe, he
  • cleared a brook which ran across our path, and rushed forward with a quick
  • step.
  • When we arrived within a short distance of the ridge, we were stopped by a
  • mass of tall yellow reeds, growing together as thickly as they could
  • stand, and as tough and stubborn as so many rods of steel; and we
  • perceived, to our chagrin, that they extended midway up the elevation we
  • proposed to ascend.
  • For a moment we gazed about us in quest of a more practicable route; it
  • was, however, at once apparent that there was no resource but to pierce
  • this thicket of canes at all hazards. We now reversed our order of march,
  • I, being the heaviest, taking the lead, with a view of breaking a path
  • through the obstruction, while Toby fell into the rear.
  • Two or three times I endeavoured to insinuate myself between the canes,
  • and, by dint of coaxing and bending them, to make some progress; but a
  • bull-frog might as well have tried to work a passage through the teeth of
  • a comb, and I gave up the attempt in despair.
  • Half wild with meeting an obstacle we had so little anticipated, I threw
  • myself desperately against it, crushing to the ground the canes with which
  • I came in contact, and rising to my feet again, repeated the action with
  • like effect. Twenty minutes of this violent exercise almost exhausted me,
  • but it carried us some way into the thicket; when Toby, who had been
  • reaping the benefit of my labours by following close at my heels, proposed
  • to become pioneer in turn, and accordingly passed ahead with a view of
  • affording me a respite from my exertions. As, however, with his slight
  • frame he made but bad work of it, I was soon obliged to resume my old
  • place again.
  • On we toiled, the perspiration starting from our bodies in floods, our
  • limbs torn and lacerated with the splintered fragments of the broken
  • canes, until we had proceeded perhaps as far as the middle of the brake,
  • when suddenly it ceased raining, and the atmosphere around us became close
  • and sultry beyond expression. The elasticity of the reeds quickly
  • recovering from the temporary pressure of our bodies, caused them to
  • spring back to their original position, so that they closed in upon us as
  • we advanced, and prevented the circulation of the little air which might
  • otherwise have reached us. Besides this, their great height completely
  • shut us out from the view of surrounding objects, and we were not certain
  • but that we might have been going all the time in a wrong direction.
  • Fatigued with my long-continued efforts, and panting for breath, I felt
  • myself completely incapacitated for any further exertion. I rolled up the
  • sleeve of my frock, and squeezed the moisture it contained into my parched
  • mouth. But the few drops I managed to obtain gave me little relief, and I
  • sank down for a moment with a sort of dogged apathy, from which I was
  • aroused by Toby, who had devised a plan to free us from the net in which
  • we had become entangled.
  • He was laying about him lustily with his sheath-knife, lopping the canes
  • right and left, like a reaper, and soon made quite a clearing around us.
  • This sight reanimated me; and seizing my own knife, I hacked and hewed
  • away without mercy. But, alas! the farther we advanced the thicker and
  • taller, and apparently the more interminable, the reeds became.
  • I began to think we were fairly snared, and had almost made up my mind
  • that without a pair of wings we should never be able to escape from the
  • toils, when all at once I discerned a peep of daylight through the canes
  • on my right, and, communicating the joyful tidings to Toby, we both fell
  • to with fresh spirit, and speedily opening a passage towards it, we found
  • ourselves clear of perplexities, and in the near vicinity of the ridge.
  • After resting for a few moments we began the ascent, and after a little
  • vigorous climbing found ourselves close to its summit. Instead, however,
  • of walking along its ridge, where we should have been in full view of the
  • natives in the vales beneath, and at a point where they could easily
  • intercept us, were they so inclined, we cautiously advanced on one side,
  • crawling on our hands and knees, and screened from observation by the
  • grass through which we glided, much in the fashion of a couple of
  • serpents. After an hour employed in this unpleasant kind of locomotion, we
  • started to our feet again, and pursued our way boldly along the crest of
  • the ridge.
  • This salient spur of the lofty elevations that encompassed the bay, rose
  • with sharp angle from the valleys at its base, and presented, with the
  • exception of a few steep acclivities, the appearance of a vast inclined
  • plane, sweeping down towards the sea from the heights in the distance. We
  • had ascended it near the place of its termination, and at its lowest
  • point, and now saw our route to the mountains distinctly defined along its
  • narrow crest, which was covered with a soft carpet of verdure, and was in
  • many parts only a few feet wide.
  • Elated with the success which had so far attended our enterprise, and
  • invigorated by the refreshing atmosphere we now inhaled, Toby and I, in
  • high spirits, were making our way rapidly along the ridge when suddenly
  • from the valleys below, which lay on either side of us, we heard the
  • distant shouts of the natives, who had just descried us, and to whom our
  • figures, brought in bold relief against the sky, were plainly revealed.
  • Glancing our eyes into these valleys, we perceived their savage
  • inhabitants hurrying to and fro, seemingly under the influence of some
  • sudden alarm, and appearing to the eye scarcely bigger than so many
  • pigmies, while their white thatched dwellings, dwarfed by the distance,
  • looked like baby-houses. As we looked down upon the islanders from our
  • lofty elevation, we experienced a sense of security; feeling confident
  • that, should they undertake a pursuit, it would, from the start we now
  • had, proved entirely fruitless, unless they followed us into the
  • mountains, where we knew they cared not to venture.
  • However, we thought it was well to make the most of our time; and
  • accordingly, where the ground would admit of it, we ran swiftly along the
  • summit of the ridge, until we were brought to a stand by a steep cliff,
  • which at first seemed to interpose an effectual barrier to our farther
  • advance. By dint of much hard scrambling, however, and at some risk to our
  • necks, we at last surmounted it, and continued our flight with unabated
  • celerity.
  • We had left the beach early in the morning, and after an uninterrupted,
  • though at times difficult and dangerous ascent, during which we had never
  • once turned our faces to the sea, we found ourselves, about three hours
  • before sunset, standing on the top of what seemed to be the highest land
  • on the island, an immense overhanging cliff composed of basaltic rocks,
  • hung round with parasitical plants. We must have been more than three
  • thousand feet above the level of the sea, and the scenery viewed from this
  • height was magnificent.
  • The lonely bay of Nukuheva, dotted here and there with the black hulls of
  • the vessels composing the French squadron, lay reposing at the base of a
  • circular range of elevations, whose verdant sides, perforated with deep
  • glens, or diversified with smiling valleys, formed altogether the
  • loveliest view I ever beheld, and were I to live a hundred years, I shall
  • never forget the feeling of admiration which I then experienced.
  • CHAPTER VI
  • The other side of the mountain—Disappointment—Inventory of
  • articles brought from the ship—Division of the stock of
  • bread—Appearance of the interior of the island—A discovery—A
  • ravine and waterfalls—A sleepless night—Further discoveries—My
  • illness—A Marquesan landscape.
  • My curiosity had been not a little raised with regard to the description
  • of country we should meet on the other side of the mountains; and I had
  • supposed, with Toby, that immediately on gaining the heights we should be
  • enabled to view the large bays of Happar and Typee reposing at our feet on
  • one side, in the same way that Nukuheva lay spread out below on the other.
  • But here we were disappointed. Instead of finding the mountain we had
  • ascended sweeping down in the opposite direction into broad and capacious
  • valleys, the land appeared to retain its general elevation, only broken
  • into a series of ridges and inter-vales, which as far as the eye could
  • reach stretched away from us, with their precipitous sides covered with
  • the brightest verdure, and waving here and there with the foliage of
  • clumps of woodland; among which, however, we perceived none of those trees
  • upon whose fruit we had relied with such certainty.
  • This was a most unlooked-for discovery, and one that promised to defeat
  • our plans altogether, for we could not think of descending the mountain on
  • the Nukuheva side in quest of food. Should we for this purpose be induced
  • to retrace our steps, we should run no small chance of encountering the
  • natives, who in that case, if they did nothing worse to us, would be
  • certain to convey us back to the ship for the sake of the reward in calico
  • and trinkets, which we had no doubt our skipper would hold out to them as
  • an inducement to our capture.
  • What was to be done? The _Dolly_ would not sail perhaps for ten days, and
  • how were we to sustain life during this period? I bitterly repented our
  • improvidence in not providing ourselves, as we easily might have done,
  • with a supply of biscuit. With a rueful visage I now bethought me of the
  • scanty handful of bread I had stuffed into the bosom of my frock, and felt
  • somewhat desirous to ascertain what part of it had weathered the rather
  • rough usage it had experienced in ascending the mountain. I accordingly
  • proposed to Toby that we should enter into a joint examination of the
  • various articles we had brought from the ship. With this intent we seated
  • ourselves upon the grass; and a little curious to see with what kind of
  • judgment my companion had filled his frock—which I remarked seemed about
  • as well lined as my own—I requested him to commence operations by
  • spreading out its contents.
  • Thrusting his hand, then, into the bosom of his capacious receptacle, he
  • first brought to light about a pound of tobacco, whose component parts
  • still adhered together, the whole outside being covered with soft
  • particles of sea-bread. Wet and dripping, it had the appearance of having
  • been just recovered from the bottom of the sea. But I paid slight
  • attention to a substance of so little value to us in our present
  • situation, as soon as I perceived the indications it gave of Toby’s
  • foresight in laying in a supply of food for the expedition.
  • I eagerly inquired what quantity he had brought with him, when rummaging
  • once more beneath his garment, he produced a small handful of something so
  • soft, pulpy, and discoloured, that for a few moments he was as much
  • puzzled as myself to tell by what possible instrumentality such a
  • villanous compound had become engendered in his bosom. I can only describe
  • it as a hash of soaked bread and bits of tobacco, brought to a doughy
  • consistency by the united agency of perspiration and rain. But repulsive
  • as it might otherwise have been, I now regarded it as an invaluable
  • treasure, and proceeded with great care to transfer this paste-like mass
  • to a large leaf which I had plucked from a bush beside me. Toby informed
  • me that in the morning he had placed two whole biscuits in his bosom, with
  • a view of munching them, should he feel so inclined, during our flight.
  • These were now reduced to the equivocal substance which I had just placed
  • on the leaf.
  • Another dive into the frock brought to view some four or five yards of
  • calico print, whose tasteful pattern was rather disfigured by the yellow
  • stains of the tobacco with which it had been brought in contact. In
  • drawing this calico slowly from his bosom inch by inch, Toby reminded me
  • of a juggler performing the feat of the endless ribbon. The next cast was
  • a small one, being a sailor’s little “ditty bag,” containing needles,
  • thread, and other sewing utensils; then came a razor-case, followed by two
  • or three separate plugs of negro-head, which were fished up from the
  • bottom of the now empty receptacle. These various matters being inspected,
  • I produced a few things which I had myself brought.
  • As might have been anticipated from the state of my companion’s edible
  • supplies, I found my own in a deplorable condition, and diminished to a
  • quantity that would not have formed half a dozen mouthfuls for a hungry
  • man who was partial enough to tobacco not to mind swallowing it. A few
  • morsels of bread, with a fathom or two of white cotton cloth, and several
  • pounds of choice pigtail, composed the extent of my possessions.
  • Our joint stock of miscellaneous articles were now made up into a compact
  • bundle, which it was agreed we should carry alternately. But the sorry
  • remains of the biscuit were not to be disposed of so summarily: the
  • precarious circumstances in which we were placed made us regard them as
  • something on which very probably depended the fate of our adventure. After
  • a brief discussion, in which we both of us expressed our resolution of not
  • descending into the bay until the ship’s departure, I suggested to my
  • companion that little of it as there was, we should divide the bread into
  • six equal portions, each of which should be a day’s allowance for both of
  • us. This proposition he assented to; so I took the silk kerchief from my
  • neck, and cutting it with my knife into half a dozen equal pieces,
  • proceeded to make an exact division.
  • At first, Toby, with a degree of fastidiousness that seemed to me
  • ill-timed, was for picking out the minute particles of tobacco with which
  • the spongy mass was mixed; but against this proceeding I protested, as by
  • such an operation we must have greatly diminished its quantity.
  • When the division was accomplished, we found that a day’s allowance for
  • the two was not a great deal more than what a table-spoon might hold. Each
  • separate portion we immediately rolled up in the bit of silk prepared for
  • it, and joining them all together into a small package, I committed them,
  • with solemn injunctions of fidelity, to the custody of Toby. For the
  • remainder of that day we resolved to fast, as we had been fortified by a
  • breakfast in the morning; and now starting again to our feet, we looked
  • about us for a shelter during the night, which, from the appearance of the
  • heavens, promised to be a dark and tempestuous one.
  • There was no place near us which would in any way answer our purpose; so
  • turning our backs upon Nukuheva, we commenced exploring the unknown
  • regions which lay upon the other side of the mountain.
  • In this direction, as far as our vision extended, not a sign of life, nor
  • anything that denoted even the transient residence of man could be seen.
  • The whole landscape seemed one unbroken solitude, the interior of the
  • island having apparently been untenanted since the morning of the
  • creation; and as we advanced through this wilderness, our voices sounded
  • strangely in our ears, as though human accents had never before disturbed
  • the fearful silence of the place, interrupted only by the low murmurings
  • of distant waterfalls.
  • Our disappointment, however, in not finding the various fruits with which
  • we had intended to regale ourselves during our stay in these wilds, was a
  • good deal lessened by the consideration that from this very circumstance
  • we should be much less exposed to a casual meeting with the savage tribes
  • about us, who we knew always dwelt beneath the shadows of those trees
  • which supplied them with food.
  • We wandered along, casting eager glances into every bush we passed, until
  • just as we had succeeded in mounting one of the many ridges that
  • intersected the ground, I saw in the grass before me something like an
  • indistinctly traced footpath, which appeared to lead along the top of the
  • ridge, and to descend with it into a deep ravine about half a mile in
  • advance of us.
  • Robinson Crusoe could not have been more startled at the footprint in the
  • sand than we were at this unwelcome discovery. My first impulse was to
  • make as rapid a retreat as possible, and bend our steps in some other
  • direction; but our curiosity to see whither this path might lead, prompted
  • us to pursue it. So on we went, the track becoming more and more visible
  • the farther we proceeded, until it conducted us to the verge of the
  • ravine, where it abruptly terminated.
  • “And so,” said Toby, peering down into the chasm, “every one that travels
  • this path takes a jump here, eh?”
  • “Not so,” said I, “for I think they might manage to descend without it;
  • what say you,—shall we attempt the feat?”
  • “And what, in the name of caves and coal-holes, do you expect to find at
  • the bottom of that gulf but a broken neck—why, it looks blacker than our
  • ship’s hold, and the roar of those waterfalls down there would batter
  • one’s brains to pieces.”
  • “Oh, no, Toby,” I exclaimed, laughing; “but there’s something to be seen
  • here, that’s plain, or there would have been no path, and I am resolved to
  • find out what it is.”
  • “I will tell you what, my pleasant fellow,” rejoined Toby, quickly, “if
  • you are going to pry into everything you meet with here that excites your
  • curiosity, you will marvellously soon get knocked on the head; to a dead
  • certainty you will come bang upon a party of these savages in the midst of
  • your discovery-makings, and I doubt whether such an event would
  • particularly delight you. Just take my advice for once, and let us ’bout
  • ship and steer in some other direction; besides, it’s getting late, and we
  • ought to be mooring ourselves for the night.”
  • “That is just the thing I have been driving at,” replied I; “and I am
  • thinking that this ravine will exactly answer our purpose, for it is
  • roomy, secluded, well watered, and may shelter us from the weather.”
  • “Ay, and from sleep too, and by the same token will give us sore throats,
  • and rheumatism into the bargain,” cried Toby, with evident dislike at the
  • idea.
  • “Oh, very well then, my lad,” said I, “since you will not accompany me,
  • here I go, alone. You will see me in the morning”; and advancing to the
  • edge of the cliff upon which we had been standing, I proceeded to lower
  • myself down by the tangled roots which clustered about all the crevices of
  • the rock. As I had anticipated, Toby, in spite of his previous
  • remonstrances, followed my example, and dropping himself with the activity
  • of a squirrel from point to point, he quickly outstripped me, and effected
  • a landing at the bottom before I had accomplished two-thirds of the
  • descent.
  • The sight that now greeted us was one that will ever be vividly impressed
  • upon my mind. Five foaming streams, rushing through as many gorges, and
  • swelled and turbid by the recent rains, united together in one mad plunge
  • of nearly eighty feet, and fell with wild uproar into a deep black pool
  • scooped out of the gloomy-looking rocks that lay piled around, and thence
  • in one collected body dashed down a narrow sloping channel which seemed to
  • penetrate into the very bowels of the earth. Overhead, vast roots of trees
  • hung down from the sides of the ravine, dripping with moisture, and
  • trembling with the concussions produced by the fall. It was now sunset,
  • and the feeble uncertain light that found its way into these caverns and
  • woody depths heightened their strange appearance, and reminded us that in
  • a short time we should find ourselves in utter darkness.
  • As soon as I had satisfied my curiosity by gazing at this scene, I fell to
  • wondering how it was that what we had taken for a path should have
  • conducted us to so singular a place, and began to suspect that after all I
  • might have been deceived in supposing it to have been a track formed by
  • the islanders. This was rather an agreeable reflection than otherwise, for
  • it diminished our dread of accidentally meeting with any of them, and I
  • came to the conclusion that perhaps we could not have selected a more
  • secure hiding-place than this very spot we had so accidentally hit upon.
  • Toby agreed with me in this view of the matter, and we immediately began
  • gathering together the limbs of trees which lay scattered about, with the
  • view of constructing a temporary hut for the night. This we were obliged
  • to build close to the foot of the cataract for the current of water
  • extended very nearly to the sides of the gorge. The few moments of light
  • that remained we employed in covering our hut with a species of
  • broad-bladed grass that grew in every fissure of the ravine. Our hut, if
  • it deserved to be called one, consisted of six or eight of the straightest
  • branches we could find laid obliquely against the steep wall of rock, with
  • their lowered ends within a foot of the stream. Into the space thus
  • covered over we managed to crawl, and dispose our wearied bodies as best
  • we could.
  • Shall I ever forget that horrid night! As for poor Toby, I could scarcely
  • get a word out of him. It would have been some consolation to have heard
  • his voice, but he lay shivering the live-long night like a man afflicted
  • with the palsy, with his knees drawn up to his head, while his back was
  • supported against the dripping side of the rock. During this wretched
  • night there seemed nothing wanting to complete the perfect misery of our
  • condition. The rain descended in such torrents that our poor shelter
  • proved a mere mockery. In vain did I try to elude the incessant streams
  • that poured upon me; by protecting one part I only exposed another, and
  • the water was continually finding some new opening through which to drench
  • us.
  • I have had many a ducking in the course of my life, and in general cared
  • little about it: but the accumulated horrors of that night, the death-like
  • coldness of the place, the appalling darkness and the dismal sense of our
  • forlorn condition, almost unmanned me.
  • It will not be doubted that the next morning we were early risers, and as
  • soon as I could catch the faintest glimpse of anything like daylight I
  • shook my companion by the arm, and told him it was sunrise. Poor Toby
  • lifted up his head, and after a moment’s pause said, in a husky voice,
  • “Then, shipmate, my toplights have gone out, for it appears darker now
  • with my eyes open than it did when they were shut.”
  • “Nonsense!” exclaimed I; “you are not awake yet.”
  • “Awake!” roared Toby, in a rage; “awake! You mean to insinuate I’ve been
  • asleep, do you? It is an insult to a man to suppose he could sleep in such
  • a place as this.”
  • By the time I had apologized to my friend for having misconstrued his
  • silence, it had become somewhat more light, and we crawled out of our
  • lair. The rain had ceased, but everything around us was dripping with
  • moisture. We stripped off our saturated garments, and wrung them as dry as
  • we could. We contrived to make the blood circulate in our benumbed limbs
  • by rubbing them vigorously with our hands; and after performing our
  • ablutions in the stream, and putting on our still wet clothes, we began to
  • think it advisable to break our long fast, it being now twenty-four hours
  • since we had tasted food.
  • Accordingly, our day’s ration was brought out, and seating ourselves on a
  • detached fragment of rock, we proceeded to discuss it. First we divided it
  • into equal portions, and carefully rolling one of them up for our
  • evening’s repast, divided the remainder again as equally as possible, and
  • then drew lots for the first choice. I could have placed the morsel that
  • fell to my share upon the tip of my finger; but notwithstanding this, I
  • took care that it should be full ten minutes before I had swallowed the
  • last crumb. What a true saying it is that “appetite furnishes the best
  • sauce”! There was a flavour and a relish to this small particle of food
  • that, under other circumstances, it would have been impossible for the
  • most delicate viands to have imparted. A copious draught of the pure water
  • which flowed at our feet served to complete the meal, and after it we rose
  • sensibly refreshed, and prepared for whatever might befall us.
  • We now carefully examined the chasm in which we had passed the night. We
  • crossed the stream, and gaining the farther side of the pool I have
  • mentioned, discovered proofs that the spot must have been visited by some
  • one but a short time previous to our arrival. Further observation
  • convinced us that it had been regularly frequented, and, as we afterwards
  • conjectured from particular indications, for the purpose of obtaining a
  • certain root, from which the natives obtained a kind of ointment.
  • These discoveries immediately determined us to abandon a place which had
  • presented no inducement for us to remain, except the promise of security;
  • and as we looked about us for the means of ascending again into the upper
  • regions, we at last found a practicable part of the rock, and
  • half-an-hour’s toil carried us to the summit of the same cliff from which
  • the preceding evening we had descended.
  • I now proposed to Toby that instead of rambling about the island, exposing
  • ourselves to discovery at every turn, we should select some place as our
  • fixed abode for as long a period as our food should hold out, build
  • ourselves a comfortable hut, and be as prudent and circumspect as
  • possible. To all this my companion assented, and we at once set about
  • carrying the plan into execution.
  • With this view, after exploring without success a little glen near us, we
  • crossed several of the ridges of which I have before spoken; and about
  • noon found ourselves ascending a long and gradually rising slope, but
  • still without having discovered any place adapted to our purpose. Low and
  • heavy clouds betokened an approaching storm, and we hurried on to gain a
  • covert in a clump of thick bushes, which appeared to terminate the long
  • ascent. We threw ourselves under the lee of these bushes, and pulling up
  • the long grass that grew around, covered ourselves completely with it, and
  • awaited the shower.
  • But it did not come as soon as we had expected, and before many minutes my
  • companion was fast asleep, and I was rapidly falling into the same state
  • of happy forgetfulness. Just at this juncture, however, down came the rain
  • with a violence that put all thoughts of slumber to flight. Although in
  • some measure sheltered, our clothes soon became as wet as ever; this,
  • after all the trouble we had taken to dry them, was provoking enough: but
  • there was no help for it; and I recommend all adventurous youths who
  • abandon vessels in romantic islands during the rainy season, to provide
  • themselves with umbrellas.
  • After an hour or so the shower passed away. My companion slept through it
  • all, or at least appeared so to do; and now that it was over I had not the
  • heart to awaken him. As I lay on my back completely shrouded with verdure,
  • the leafy branches drooping over me, and my limbs buried in grass, I could
  • not avoid comparing our situation with that of the interesting babes in
  • the wood. Poor little sufferers!—no wonder their constitutions broke down
  • under the hardships to which they were exposed.
  • During the hour or two spent under the shelter of these bushes, I began to
  • feel symptoms which I at once attributed to the exposure of the preceding
  • night. Cold shiverings and a burning fever succeeded one another at
  • intervals, while one of my legs was swelled to such a degree, and pained
  • me so acutely, that I half suspected I had been bitten by some venomous
  • reptile, the congenial inhabitant of the chasm from which we had lately
  • emerged. I may here remark by the way—what I subsequently learned—that all
  • the islands of Polynesia enjoy the reputation, in common with the
  • Hibernian isle, of being free from the presence of any vipers; though
  • whether Saint Patrick ever visited them, is a question I shall not attempt
  • to decide.
  • As the feverish sensation increased upon me I tossed about, still
  • unwilling to disturb my slumbering companion, from whose side I removed
  • two or three yards. I chanced to push aside a branch, and by so doing
  • suddenly disclosed to my view a scene which even now I can recall with all
  • the vividness of the first impression. Had a glimpse of the gardens of
  • Paradise been revealed to me, I could scarcely have been more ravished
  • with the sight.
  • From the spot where I lay tranfixed with surprise and delight, I looked
  • straight down into the bosom of a valley, which swept away in long wavy
  • undulations to the blue waters in the distance. Midway towards the sea,
  • and peering here and there amidst the foliage, might be seen the
  • palmetto-thatched houses of its inhabitants, glistening in the sun that
  • had bleached them to a dazzling whiteness. The vale was more than three
  • leagues in length, and about a mile across at its greatest width.
  • On either side it appeared hemmed in by steep and green acclivities,
  • which, uniting near the spot where I lay, formed an abrupt and
  • semi-circular termination of grassy cliffs and precipices hundreds of feet
  • in height, over which flowed numberless small cascades. But the crowning
  • beauty of the prospect was its universal verdure; and in this indeed
  • consists, I believe, the peculiar charm of every Polynesian landscape.
  • Everywhere below me, from the base of the precipice upon whose very verge
  • I had been unconsciously reposing, the surface of the vale presented a
  • mass of foliage, spread with such rich profusion that it was impossible to
  • determine of what description of trees it consisted.
  • But perhaps there was nothing about the scenery I beheld more impressive
  • than those silent cascades, whose slender threads of water, after leaping
  • down the steep cliffs, were lost amidst the rich herbage of the valley.
  • Over all the landscape there reigned the most hushed repose, which I
  • almost feared to break, lest, like the enchanted gardens in the fairy
  • tale, a single syllable might dissolve the spell. For a long time,
  • forgetful alike of my own situation, and the vicinity of my still
  • slumbering companion, I remained gazing around me, hardly able to
  • comprehend by what means I had thus suddenly been made a spectator of such
  • a scene.
  • CHAPTER VII
  • The important question, Typee or Happar?—A wild-goose chase—My
  • sufferings—Disheartening situation—A night in the ravine—Morning
  • meal—Happy idea of Toby—Journey towards the valley.
  • Recovering from my astonishment at the beautiful scene before me, I
  • quickly awakened Toby, and informed him of the discovery I had made.
  • Together we now repaired to the border of the precipice, and my
  • companion’s admiration was equal to my own. A little reflection, however,
  • abated our surprise at coming so unexpectedly upon this valley, since the
  • large vales of Happar and Typee, lying upon this side of Nukuheva, and
  • extending a considerable distance from the sea towards the interior, must
  • necessarily terminate somewhere about this point.
  • The question now was as to which of those two places we were looking down
  • upon. Toby insisted that it was the abode of the Happars, and I that it
  • was tenanted by their enemies, the ferocious Typees. To be sure I was not
  • entirely convinced by my own arguments, but Toby’s proposition to descend
  • at once into the valley, and partake of the hospitality of its inmates,
  • seemed to me to be risking so much upon the strength of a mere
  • supposition, that I resolved to oppose it until we had more evidence to
  • proceed upon.
  • The point was one of vital importance, as the natives of Happar were not
  • only at peace with Nukuheva, but cultivated with its inhabitants the most
  • friendly relations, and enjoyed beside a reputation for gentleness and
  • humanity which led us to expect from them, if not a cordial reception, at
  • least a shelter during the short period we should remain in their
  • territory.
  • On the other hand, the very name of Typee struck a panic into my heart
  • which I did not attempt to disguise. The thought of voluntarily throwing
  • ourselves into the hands of these cruel savages, seemed to me an act of
  • mere madness; and almost equally so the idea of venturing into the valley,
  • uncertain by which of these two tribes it was inhabited. That the vale at
  • our feet was tenanted by one of them, was a point that appeared to us past
  • all doubt, since we knew that they resided in this quarter, although our
  • information did not enlighten us further.
  • My companion, however, incapable of resisting the tempting prospect which
  • the place held out of an abundant supply of food and other means of
  • enjoyment, still clung to his own inconsiderate view of the subject, nor
  • could all my reasoning shake it. When I reminded him that it was
  • impossible for either of us to know anything with certainty, and when I
  • dealt upon the horrible fate we should encounter were we rashly to descend
  • into the valley, and discover too late the error we had committed, he
  • replied by detailing all the evils of our present condition, and the
  • sufferings we must undergo should we continue to remain where we then
  • were.
  • Anxious to draw him away from the subject, if possible—for I saw that it
  • would be in vain to attempt changing his mind—I directed his attention to
  • a long bright unwooded tract of land which, sweeping down from the
  • elevations in the interior, descended into the valley before us. I then
  • suggested to him that beyond this ridge might lie a capacious and
  • untenanted valley, abounding with all manner of delicious fruits; for I
  • had heard that there were several such upon the island, and proposed that
  • we should endeavour to reach it, and if we found our expectations realized
  • we should at once take refuge in it and remain there as long as we
  • pleased.
  • He acquiesced in the suggestion; and we immediately, therefore, began
  • surveying the country lying before us, with a view of determining upon the
  • best route for us to pursue; but it presented little choice, the whole
  • interval being broken into steep ridges, divided by dark ravines,
  • extending in parallel lines at right angles to our direct course. All
  • these we would be obliged to cross before we could hope to arrive at our
  • destination.
  • A weary journey! But we decided to undertake it, though, for my own part,
  • I felt little prepared to encounter its fatigues, shivering and burning by
  • turns with the ague and fever; for I know not how else to describe the
  • alternate sensations I experienced, and suffering not a little from the
  • lameness which afflicted me. Added to this was the faintness consequent on
  • our meagre diet—a calamity in which Toby participated to the same extent
  • as myself.
  • These circumstances, however, only augmented my anxiety to reach a place
  • which promised us plenty and repose, before I should be reduced to a state
  • which would render me altogether unable to perform the journey.
  • Accordingly we now commenced it by descending the almost perpendicular
  • side of a steep and narrow gorge, bristling with a thick growth of reeds.
  • Here there was but one mode for us to adopt. We seated ourselves upon the
  • ground, and guided our descent by catching at the canes in our path. The
  • velocity with which we thus slid down the side of the ravine soon brought
  • us to a point where we could use our feet, and in a short time we arrived
  • at the edge of the torrent, which rolled impetuously along the bed of the
  • chasm.
  • After taking a refreshing draught from the water of the stream, we
  • addressed ourselves to a much more difficult undertaking than the last.
  • Every foot of our late descent had to be regained in ascending the
  • opposite side of the gorge—an operation rendered the less agreeable from
  • the consideration that in these perpendicular episodes we did not progress
  • a hundred yards on our journey. But, ungrateful as the task was, we set
  • about it with exemplary patience, and after a snail-like progress of an
  • hour or more, had scaled perhaps one half of the distance, when the fever
  • which had left me for awhile returned with such violence, and accompanied
  • by so raging a thirst, that it required all the entreaties of Toby to
  • prevent me from losing all the fruits of my late exertion, by
  • precipitating myself madly down the cliffs we had just climbed, in quest
  • of the water which flowed so temptingly at their base. At the moment all
  • my hopes and fears appeared to be merged in this one desire, careless of
  • the consequences that might result from its gratification. I am aware of
  • no feeling, either of pleasure or of pain, that so completely deprives one
  • of all power to resist its impulses, as this same raging thirst.
  • Toby earnestly conjured me to continue the ascent, assuring me that a
  • little more exertion would bring us to the summit, and that then in less
  • than five minutes we should find ourselves at the brink of the stream,
  • which must necessarily flow on the other side of the ridge.
  • “Do not,” he exclaimed, “turn back, now that we have proceeded thus far;
  • for I tell you that neither of us will have the courage to repeat the
  • attempt, if once more we find ourselves looking up to where we now are
  • from the bottom of these rocks!”
  • I was not yet so perfectly beside myself as to be heedless of these
  • representations, and therefore toiled on, ineffectually endeavouring to
  • appease the thirst which consumed me, by thinking that in a short time I
  • should be able to gratify it to my heart’s content.
  • At last we gained the top of the second elevation, the loftiest of those I
  • have described as extending in parallel lines between us and the valley we
  • desired to reach. It commanded a view of the whole intervening distance;
  • and, discouraged as I was by other circumstances, this prospect plunged me
  • into the very depths of despair. Nothing but dark and fearful chasms,
  • separated by sharp crested and perpendicular ridges as far as the eye
  • could reach. Could we have stepped from summit to summit of these steep
  • but narrow elevations we could easily have accomplished the distance; but
  • we must penetrate to the bottom of every yawning gulf, and scale in
  • succession every one of the eminences before us. Even Toby, although not
  • suffering as I did, was not proof against the disheartening influences of
  • the sight.
  • But we did not long stand to contemplate it, impatient as I was to reach
  • the waters of the torrent which flowed beneath us. With an insensibility
  • to danger which I cannot call to mind without shuddering, we threw
  • ourselves down the depths of the ravine, startling its savage solitudes
  • with the echoes produced by the falling fragments of rock we every moment
  • dislodged from their places, careless of the insecurity of our footing,
  • and reckless whether the slight roots and twigs we clutched at sustained
  • us for the while, or treacherously yielded to our grasp. For my own part,
  • I scarcely knew whether I was helplessly falling from the heights above,
  • or whether the fearful rapidity with which I descended was an act of my
  • own volition.
  • [Illustration: AT LAST WE GAINED THE TOP OF THE SECOND ELEVATION]
  • In a few minutes we reached the foot of the gorge, and kneeling upon a
  • small ledge of dripping rocks, I bent over to the stream. What a delicious
  • sensation was I now to experience! I paused for a second to concentrate
  • all my capabilities of enjoyment, and then immerged my lips in the clear
  • element before me. Had the apples of Sodom turned to ashes in my mouth, I
  • could not have felt a more startling revulsion. A single drop of the cold
  • fluid seemed to freeze every drop of blood in my body; the fever that had
  • been burning in my veins gave place on the instant to death-like chills,
  • which shook me one after another like so many shocks of electricity, while
  • the perspiration produced by my late violent exertions congealed in icy
  • beads upon my forehead. My thirst was gone, and I fairly loathed the
  • water. Starting to my feet, the sight of those dank rocks, oozing forth
  • moisture at every crevice, and the dark stream shooting along its dismal
  • channel, sent fresh chills through my shivering frame, and I felt as
  • uncontrollable a desire to climb up towards the genial sunlight as I
  • before had to descend the ravine.
  • After two hours’ perilous exertions we stood upon the summit of another
  • ridge, and it was with difficulty I could bring myself to believe that we
  • had ever penetrated the black and yawning chasm which then gaped at our
  • feet. Again we gazed upon the prospect which the height commanded, but it
  • was just as depressing as the one which had before met our eyes. I now
  • felt that in our present situation it was in vain for us to think of ever
  • overcoming the obstacles in our way, and I gave up all thoughts of
  • reaching the vale which lay beyond this series of impediments; while at
  • the same time I could not devise any scheme to extricate ourselves from
  • the difficulties in which we were involved.
  • The remotest idea of returning to Nukuheva unless assured of our vessel’s
  • departure, never once entered my mind, and indeed it was questionable
  • whether we could have succeeded in reaching it, divided as we were from
  • the bay by a distance we could not compute, and perplexed too in our
  • remembrance of localities by our recent wanderings. Besides, it was
  • unendurable the thought of retracing our steps and rendering all our
  • painful exertions of no avail.
  • There is scarcely anything when a man is in difficulties that he is more
  • disposed to look upon with abhorrence than a right-about retrograde
  • movement—a systematic going over of the already trodden ground: and
  • especially if he has a love of adventure, such a course appears
  • indescribably repulsive, so long as there remains the least hope to be
  • derived from braving untried difficulties.
  • It was this feeling that prompted us to descend the opposite side of the
  • elevation we had just scaled, although with what definite object in view
  • it would have been impossible for either of us to tell.
  • Without exchanging a syllable upon the subject, Toby and myself
  • simultaneously renounced the design which had lured us thus far—perceiving
  • in each other’s countenances that desponding expression which speaks more
  • eloquently than words.
  • Together we stood towards the close of this weary day in the cavity of the
  • third gorge we had entered, wholly incapacitated for any further exertion,
  • until restored to some degree of strength by food and repose.
  • We seated ourselves upon the least uncomfortable spot we could select, and
  • Toby produced from the bosom of his frock the sacred package. In silence
  • we partook of the small morsel of refreshment that had been left from the
  • morning’s repast, and without once proposing to violate the sanctity of
  • our engagement with respect to the remainder, we rose to our feet, and
  • proceeded to construct some sort of shelter under which we might obtain
  • the sleep we so greatly needed.
  • Fortunately the spot was better adapted to our purpose than the one in
  • which we had passed the last wretched night. We cleared away the tall
  • reeds from a small but almost level bit of ground, and twisted them into a
  • low basket-like hut, which we covered with a profusion of long thick
  • leaves, gathered from a tree near at hand. We disposed them thickly all
  • around, reserving only a slight opening that barely permitted us to crawl
  • under the shelter we had thus obtained.
  • These deep recesses, though protected from the winds that assail the
  • summits of their lofty sides, are damp and chill to a degree that one
  • would hardly anticipate in such a climate; and being unprovided with
  • anything but our woollen frocks and thin duck trousers to resist the cold
  • of the place, we were the more solicitous to render our habitation for the
  • night as comfortable as we could. Accordingly, in addition to what we had
  • already done, we plucked down all the leaves within our reach and threw
  • them in a heap over our little hut, into which we now crept, raking after
  • us a reserved supply to form our couch.
  • That night nothing but the pain I suffered prevented me from sleeping most
  • refreshingly. As it was, I caught two or three naps, while Toby slept away
  • at my side as soundly as though he had been sandwiched between two Holland
  • sheets. Luckily it did not rain, and we were preserved from the misery
  • which a heavy shower would have occasioned us.
  • In the morning I was awakened by the sonorous voice of my companion
  • ringing in my ears and bidding me rise. I crawled out from our heap of
  • leaves, and was astonished at the change which a good night’s rest had
  • wrought in his appearance. He was as blithe and joyous as a young bird,
  • and was staying the keenness of his morning’s appetite by chewing the soft
  • bark of a delicate branch he held in his hand, and he recommended the like
  • to me, as an admirable antidote against the gnawings of hunger.
  • For my own part, though feeling materially better than I had done the
  • preceding evening, I could not look at the limb that had pained me so
  • violently at intervals during the last twenty-four hours, without
  • experiencing a sense of alarm that I strove in vain to shake off.
  • Unwilling to disturb the flow of my comrade’s spirits, I managed to stifle
  • the complaints to which I might otherwise have given vent, and calling
  • upon him good-humouredly to speed our banquet, I prepared myself for it by
  • washing in the stream. This operation concluded, we swallowed, or rather
  • absorbed, by a peculiar kind of slow sucking process, our respective
  • morsels of nourishment, and then entered into a discussion as to the steps
  • it was necessary for us to pursue.
  • “What’s to be done now?” inquired I, rather dolefully.
  • “Descend into that same valley we descried yesterday,” rejoined Toby, with
  • a rapidity and loudness of utterance that almost led me to suspect he had
  • been slyly devouring the broadside of an ox in some of the adjoining
  • thickets. “What else,” he continued, “remains for us to do but that, to be
  • sure? Why, we shall both starve, to a certainty, if we remain here; and as
  • to your fears of those Typees—depend upon it, it is all nonsense. It is
  • impossible that the inhabitants of such a lovely place as we saw can be
  • anything else but good fellows; and if you choose rather to perish with
  • hunger in one of these soppy caverns, I for one prefer to chance a bold
  • descent into the valley, and risk the consequences.”
  • “And who is to pilot us thither,” I asked, “even if we should decide upon
  • the measure you propose? Are we to go again up and down those precipices
  • that we crossed yesterday, until we reach the place we started from, and
  • then take a flying leap from the cliffs to the valley?”
  • “’Faith, I didn’t think of that,” said Toby; “sure enough, both sides of
  • the valley appeared to be hemmed in by precipices, didn’t they?”
  • “Yes,” answered I; “as steep as the sides of a line-of-battle ship, and
  • about a hundred times as high.” My companion sank his head upon his
  • breast, and remained for awhile in deep thought. Suddenly he sprang to his
  • feet, while his eyes lighted up with that gleam of intelligence that marks
  • the presence of some bright idea.
  • “Yes, yes,” he exclaimed; “the streams all run in the same direction, and
  • must necessarily flow into the valley before they reach the sea; all we
  • have to do is just to follow this stream, and sooner or later, it will
  • lead us into the vale.”
  • “You are right, Toby,” I exclaimed, “you are right; it must conduct us
  • thither, and quickly too; for, see with what a steep inclination the water
  • descends.”
  • “It does, indeed,” burst forth my companion, overjoyed at my verification
  • of his theory, “it does, indeed; why, it is as plain as a pike-staff. Let
  • us proceed at once; come, throw away all those stupid ideas about the
  • Typees, and hurrah for the lovely valley of the Happars!”
  • “You will have it to be Happar, I see, my dear fellow; pray Heaven, you
  • may not find yourself deceived,” observed I, with a shake of my head.
  • “Amen to all that, and much more,” shouted Toby, rushing forward; “but
  • Happar it is, for nothing else than Happar can it be. So glorious a
  • valley—such forests of bread-fruit trees—such groves of cocoa-nut—such
  • wildernesses of guava-bushes! Ah, shipmate! don’t linger behind: in the
  • name of all delightful fruits, I am dying to be at them. Come on, come on;
  • shove ahead, there’s a lively lad; never mind the rocks; kick them out of
  • the way, as I do; and to-morrow, old fellow, take my word for it, we shall
  • be in clover. Come on”; and so saying, he dashed along the ravine like a
  • madman, forgetting my inability to keep up with him. In a few minutes,
  • however, the exuberance of his spirits abated, and, pausing for awhile, he
  • permitted me to overtake him.
  • CHAPTER VIII
  • Perilous passage of the ravine—Descent into the valley
  • The fearless confidence of Toby was contagious, and I began to adopt the
  • Happar side of the question. I could not, however, overcome a certain
  • feeling of trepidation, as we made our way along these gloomy solitudes.
  • Our progress, at first comparatively easy, became more and more difficult.
  • The bed of the watercourse was covered with fragments of broken rocks,
  • which had fallen from above, offering so many obstructions to the course
  • of the rapid stream, which vexed and fretted about them,—forming at
  • intervals small waterfalls, pouring over into deep basins, or splashing
  • wildly upon heaps of stones.
  • From the narrowness of the gorge, and the steepness of its sides, there
  • was no mode of advancing but by wading through the water; stumbling every
  • moment over the impediments which lay hidden under its surface, or
  • tripping against the huge roots of trees. But the most annoying hindrance
  • we encountered was from a multitude of crooked boughs, which, shooting out
  • almost horizontally from the sides of the chasm, twisted themselves
  • together in fantastic masses almost to the surface of the stream,
  • affording us no passage except under the low arches which they formed.
  • Under these we were obliged to crawl on our hands and feet, sliding along
  • the oozy surface of the rocks, or slipping into the deep pools, and with
  • scarce light enough to guide us. Occasionally we would strike our heads
  • against some projecting limb of a tree; and while imprudently engaged in
  • rubbing the injured part, would fall sprawling amongst flinty fragments,
  • cutting and bruising ourselves, whilst the unpitying waters flowed over
  • our prostrate bodies. Belzoni, worming himself through the subterranean
  • passages of the Egyptian catacombs, could not have met with greater
  • impediments than those we here encountered. But we struggled against them
  • manfully, well knowing our only hope lay in advancing.
  • Towards sunset we halted at a spot where we made preparations for passing
  • the night. Here we constructed a hut, in much the same way as before, and
  • crawling into it, endeavoured to forget our sufferings. My companion, I
  • believe, slept pretty soundly; but at daybreak, when we rolled out of our
  • dwelling, I felt nearly disqualified for any further efforts. Toby
  • prescribed as a remedy for my illness the contents of one of our little
  • silk packages, to be taken at once in a single dose. To this species of
  • medical treatment, however, I would by no means accede, much as he
  • insisted upon it; and so we partook of our usual morsel, and silently
  • resumed our journey. It was the fourth day since we left Nukuheva, and the
  • gnawings of hunger became painfully acute. We were fain to pacify them by
  • chewing the tender bark of roots and twigs, which, if they did not afford
  • us nourishment, were at least sweet and pleasant to the taste.
  • Our progress along the steep watercourse was necessarily slow, and by noon
  • we had not advanced more than a mile. It was somewhere near this part of
  • the day that the noise of falling waters, which we had faintly caught in
  • the early morning, became more distinct; and it was not long before we
  • were arrested by a rocky precipice of nearly a hundred feet in depth, that
  • extended all across the channel, and over which the wild stream poured in
  • an unbroken leap. On either hand the walls of the ravine presented their
  • overhanging sides both above and below the fall, affording no means
  • whatever of avoiding the cataract by taking a circuit round it.
  • “What’s to be done now, Toby?” said I.
  • “Why,” rejoined he, “as we cannot retreat, I suppose we must keep shoving
  • along.”
  • “Very true, my dear Toby; but how do you purpose accomplishing that
  • desirable object?”
  • “By jumping from the top of the fall, if there be no other way,”
  • unhesitatingly replied my companion; “it will be much the quickest way of
  • descent; but as you are not quite as active as I am, we will try some
  • other way.”
  • And so saying, he crept cautiously along and peered over into the abyss,
  • while I remained wondering by what possible means we could overcome this
  • apparently insuperable obstruction. As soon as my companion had completed
  • his survey, I eagerly inquired the result.
  • “The result of my observations you wish to know, do you?” began Toby,
  • deliberately, with one of his odd looks: “well, my lad, the result of my
  • observation is very quickly imparted. It is at present uncertain which of
  • our two necks will have the honour to be broken first; but about a hundred
  • to one would be a fair bet in favour of the man who takes the first jump.”
  • “Then it is an impossible thing, is it?” inquired I, gloomily.
  • “No, shipmate; on the contrary, it is the easiest thing in life: the only
  • awkward point is the sort of usage which our unhappy limbs may receive
  • when we arrive at the bottom, and what sort of travelling trim we shall be
  • in afterwards. But follow me now, and I will show you the only chance we
  • have.”
  • With this he conducted me to the verge of the cataract, and pointed along
  • the side of the ravine to a number of curious-looking roots, some three or
  • four inches in thickness, and several feet long, which, after twisting
  • among the fissures of the rock, shot perpendicularly from it, and ran
  • tapering to a point in the air, hanging over the gulf like so many dark
  • icicles. They covered nearly the entire surface of one side of the gorge,
  • the lowest of them reaching even to the water. Many were moss-grown and
  • decayed, with their extremities snapped short off, and those in the
  • immediate vicinity of the fall were slippery with moisture.
  • Toby’s scheme, and it was a desperate one, was to entrust ourselves to
  • these treacherous-looking roots, and by slipping down from one to another
  • to gain the bottom.
  • “Are you ready to venture it?” asked Toby, looking at me earnestly, but
  • without saying a word as to the practicability of the plan.
  • “I am,” was my reply; for I saw it was our only resource if we wished to
  • advance, and as for retreating, all thoughts of that sort had been long
  • abandoned.
  • After I had signified my assent, Toby, without uttering a single word,
  • crawled along the dripping ledge until he gained a point from whence he
  • could just reach one of the largest of the pendant roots; he shook it—it
  • quivered in his grasp, and when he let it go, it twanged in the air like a
  • strong wire sharply struck. Satisfied by his scrutiny, my light-limbed
  • companion swung himself nimbly upon it, and twisting his legs round it in
  • sailor fashion, slipped down eight or ten feet, where his weight gave it a
  • motion not unlike that of a pendulum. He could not venture to descend any
  • farther; so holding on with one hand, he with the other shook one by one
  • all the slender roots around him, and at last, finding one which he
  • thought trustworthy, shifted himself to it and continued his downward
  • progress.
  • So far so well; but I could not avoid comparing my heavier frame and
  • disabled condition with his light figure and remarkable activity: but
  • there was no help for it, and in less than a minute’s time I was swinging
  • directly over his head. As soon as his upturned eyes caught a glimpse of
  • me, he exclaimed in his usual dry tone, for the danger did not seem to
  • daunt him in the least, “Mate, do me the kindness not to fall until I get
  • out of your way”; and then swinging himself more on one side, he continued
  • his descent. In the meantime, I cautiously transferred myself from the
  • limb down which I had been slipping to a couple of others that were near
  • it, deeming two strings to my bow better than one, and taking care to test
  • their strength before I trusted my weight to them.
  • On arriving towards the end of the second stage in this vertical journey,
  • and shaking the long roots which were round me, to my consternation they
  • snapped off one after another like so many pipe stems, and fell in
  • fragments against the side of the gulf, splashing at last into the waters
  • beneath.
  • As one after another the treacherous roots yielded to my grasp, and fell
  • into the torrent, my heart sunk within me. The branches on which I was
  • suspended over the yawning chasm swang to and fro in the air, and I
  • expected them every moment to snap in twain. Appalled at the dreadful fate
  • that menaced me, I clutched frantically at the only large root which
  • remained near me; but in vain; I could not reach it, though my fingers
  • were within a few inches of it. Again and again I tried to reach it, until
  • at length, maddened with the thought of my situation, I swayed myself
  • violently by striking my foot against the side of the rock, and at the
  • instant that I approached the large root caught desperately at it, and
  • transferred myself to it. It vibrated violently under the sudden weight,
  • but fortunately did not give way.
  • My brain grew dizzy with the idea of the frightful risk I had just run,
  • and I involuntarily closed my eyes to shut out the view of the depth
  • beneath me. For the instant I was safe, and I uttered a devout ejaculation
  • of thanksgiving for my escape.
  • “Pretty well done,” shouted Toby underneath me; “you are nimbler than I
  • thought you to be—hopping about up there from root to root like any young
  • squirrel. As soon as you have diverted yourself sufficiently, I would
  • advise you to proceed.”
  • “Ay, ay, Toby, all in good time: two or three more such famous roots as
  • this, and I shall be with you.”
  • The residue of my downward progress was comparatively easy; the roots were
  • in greater abundance, and in one or two places jutting out points of rock
  • assisted me greatly. In a few moments I was standing by the side of my
  • companion.
  • Substituting a stout stick for the one I had thrown aside at the top of
  • the precipice, we now continued our course along the bed of the ravine.
  • Soon we were saluted by a sound in advance, that grew by degrees louder
  • and louder, as the noise of the cataract we were leaving behind gradually
  • died on our ears.
  • “Another precipice for us, Toby.”
  • “Very good; we can descend them, you know—come on.”
  • Nothing indeed appeared to depress or intimidate this intrepid fellow.
  • Typee or Niagaras, he was as ready to engage one as the other, and I could
  • not avoid a thousand times congratulating myself upon having such a
  • companion in an enterprise like the present.
  • After an hour’s painful progress, we reached the verge of another fall,
  • still loftier than the preceding, and flanked both above and below with
  • the same steep masses of rock, presenting, however, here and there narrow
  • irregular ledges, supporting a shallow soil, on which grew a variety of
  • bushes and trees, whose bright verdure contrasted beautifully with the
  • foamy waters that flowed between them.
  • Toby, who invariably acted as pioneer, now proceeded to reconnoitre. On
  • his return, he reported that the shelves of rock on our right would enable
  • us to gain with little risk the bottom of the cataract. Accordingly,
  • leaving the bed of the stream at the very point where it thundered down,
  • we began crawling along one of these sloping ledges until it carried us to
  • within a few feet of another that inclined downward at a still sharper
  • angle, and upon which, by assisting each other, we managed to alight in
  • safety. We warily crept along this, steadying ourselves by the naked roots
  • of the shrubs that clung to every fissure. As we proceeded, the narrow
  • path became still more contracted, rendering it difficult for us to
  • maintain our footing, until suddenly, as we reached an angle of the wall
  • of rock where we had expected it to widen, we perceived to our
  • consternation, that a yard or two farther on it abruptly terminated at a
  • place we could not possibly hope to pass.
  • Toby, as usual, led the van, and in silence I waited to learn from him how
  • he proposed to extricate us from this new difficulty.
  • “Well, my boy,” I exclaimed, after the expiration of several minutes,
  • during which time my companion had not uttered a word: “what’s to be done
  • now?”
  • He replied in a tranquil tone that probably the best thing we could do in
  • the present strait was to get out of it as soon as possible.
  • “Yes, my dear Toby, but tell me _how_ we are to get out of it.”
  • “Something in this sort of style,” he replied; and at the same moment, to
  • my horror, he slipped sideways off the rock, and, as I then thought, by
  • good fortune merely, alighted among the spreading branches of a species of
  • palm tree, that shooting its hardy roots along a ledge below, curved its
  • trunk upwards into the air, and presented a thick mass of foliage about
  • twenty feet below the spot where we had thus suddenly been brought to a
  • stand-still. I voluntarily held my breath, expecting to see the form of my
  • companion, after being sustained for a moment by the branches of the tree,
  • sink through their frail support, and fall headlong to the bottom. To my
  • surprise and joy, however, he recovered himself, and disentangling his
  • limbs from the fractured branches, he peered out from his leafy bed, and
  • shouted lustily, “Come on, my hearty, there is no other alternative!” and
  • with this he ducked beneath the foliage, and slipping down the trunk,
  • stood in a moment at least fifty feet beneath me, upon the broad shelf of
  • rock from which sprung the tree he had descended.
  • What would I not have given at that moment to have been by his side? The
  • feat he had just accomplished seemed little less than miraculous, and I
  • could hardly credit the evidence of my senses when I saw the wide distance
  • that a single daring act had so suddenly placed between us.
  • Toby’s animating “come on!” again sounded in my ears, and dreading to lose
  • all confidence in myself if I remained meditating upon the step, I once
  • more gazed down to assure myself of the relative bearing of the tree and
  • my own position, and then closing my eyes and uttering one comprehensive
  • ejaculation of prayer, I inclined myself over towards the abyss, and after
  • one breathless instant fell with a crash into the tree, the branches
  • snapping and crackling with my weight, as I sunk lower and lower among
  • them until I was stopped by coming in contact with a sturdy limb.
  • In a few moments I was standing at the foot of the tree, manipulating
  • myself all over with a view of ascertaining the extent of the injuries I
  • had received. To my surprise the only effects of my feat were a few slight
  • contusions too trifling to care about. The rest of our descent was easily
  • accomplished, and in half an hour after regaining the ravine, we had
  • partaken of our evening morsel, built our hut as usual, and crawled under
  • its shelter.
  • The next morning, in spite of our debility and the agony of hunger under
  • which we were now suffering, though neither of us confessed to the fact,
  • we struggled along our dismal and still difficult and dangerous path,
  • cheered by the hope of soon catching a glimpse of the valley before us,
  • and towards evening the voice of a cataract which had for some time
  • sounded like a low deep bass to the music of the smaller waterfalls, broke
  • upon our ears in still louder tones, and assured us that we were
  • approaching its vicinity.
  • That evening we stood on the brink of a precipice, over which the dark
  • stream bounded in one final leap of full 300 feet. The sheer descent
  • terminated in the region we so long had sought. On either side of the
  • fall, two lofty and perpendicular bluffs buttressed the sides of the
  • enormous cliff, and projected into the sea of verdure with which the
  • valley waved, and a range of similar projecting eminences stood disposed
  • in a half circle about the head of the vale. A thick canopy of trees hung
  • over the very verge of the fall, leaving an arched aperture for the
  • passage of the waters, which imparted a strange picturesqueness to the
  • scene.
  • The valley was now before us; but instead of being conducted into its
  • smiling bosom by the gradual descent of the deep watercourse we had thus
  • far pursued, all our labours now appeared to have been rendered futile by
  • its abrupt termination. But, bitterly disappointed, we did not entirely
  • despair.
  • As it was now near sunset we determined to pass the night where we were
  • and on the morrow, refreshed by sleep, and by eating at one meal all our
  • stock of food, to accomplish a descent into the valley, or perish in the
  • attempt.
  • We laid ourselves down that night on a spot, the recollection of which
  • still makes me shudder. A small table of rock which projected over the
  • precipice on one side of the stream, and was drenched by the spray of the
  • fall, sustained a huge trunk of a tree which must have been deposited
  • there by some heavy freshet. It lay obliquely, with one end resting on the
  • rock and the other supported by the side of the ravine. Against it we
  • placed in a sloping direction a number of the half-decayed boughs that
  • were strewn about, and covering the whole with twigs and leaves, awaited
  • the morning’s light beneath such shelter as it afforded.
  • During the whole of this night the continual roaring of the cataract—the
  • dismal moaning of the gale through the trees—the pattering of the rain,
  • and the profound darkness, affected my spirits to a degree which nothing
  • had ever before produced. Wet, half-famished, and chilled to the heart
  • with the dampness of the place, and nearly wild with the pain I endured, I
  • fairly cowered down to the earth under this multiplication of hardships,
  • and abandoned myself to frightful anticipations of evil; and my companion,
  • whose spirit at last was a good deal broken, scarcely uttered a word
  • during the whole night.
  • At length the day dawned upon us, and rising from our miserable pallet, we
  • stretched our stiffened joints, and after eating all that remained of our
  • bread, prepared for the last stage of our journey.
  • I will not recount every hairbreadth escape, and every fearful difficulty
  • that occurred before we succeeded in reaching the bosom of the valley. As
  • I have already described similar scenes, it will be sufficient to say that
  • at length, after great toil and great dangers, we both stood with no limbs
  • broken at the head of that magnificent vale which five days before had so
  • suddenly burst upon my sight, and almost beneath the shadow of those very
  • cliffs from whose summits we had gazed upon the prospect.
  • CHAPTER IX
  • The head of the valley—Cautious advance—A path—Fruit—Discovery of
  • two of the natives—Their singular conduct—Approach towards the
  • inhabited parts of the vale—Sensation produced by our
  • appearance—Reception at the house of one of the natives.
  • How to obtain the fruit which we felt convinced must grow near at hand was
  • our first thought.
  • Typee or Happar? A frightful death at the hands of the fiercest of
  • cannibals, or a kindly reception from a gentler race of savages? Which?
  • But it was too late now to discuss a question which would so soon be
  • answered.
  • The part of the valley in which we found ourselves appeared to be
  • altogether uninhabited. An almost impenetrable thicket extended from side
  • to side, without presenting a single plant affording the nourishment we
  • had confidently calculated upon; and with this object, we followed the
  • course of the stream, casting quick glances as we proceeded into the thick
  • jungles on either hand.
  • My companion—to whose solicitations I had yielded in descending into the
  • valley—now that the step was taken, began to manifest a degree of caution
  • I had little expected from him. He proposed that in the event of our
  • finding an adequate supply of fruit, we should remain in this unfrequented
  • portion of the valley—where we should run little chance of being surprised
  • by its occupants, whoever they might be—until sufficiently recruited to
  • resume our journey; when laying in a store of food equal to our wants, we
  • might easily regain the bay of Nukuheva, after the lapse of a sufficient
  • interval to ensure the departure of our vessel.
  • I objected strongly to this proposition, plausible as it was, as the
  • difficulties of the route would almost be insurmountable, unacquainted as
  • we were with the general bearings of the country, and I reminded my
  • companion of the hardships which we had already encountered in our
  • uncertain wanderings; in a word, I said that since we had deemed it
  • advisable to enter the valley, we ought manfully to face the consequences,
  • whatever they might be; the more especially as I was convinced there was
  • no alternative left us but to fall in with the natives at once, and boldly
  • risk the reception they might give us: and that as to myself, I felt the
  • necessity of rest and shelter, and that until I had obtained them, I
  • should be wholly unable to encounter such sufferings as we had lately
  • passed through. To the justice of these observations Toby somewhat
  • reluctantly assented.
  • We were surprised that, after moving as far as we had along the valley, we
  • would still meet with the same impervious thickets; and thinking that
  • although the borders of the stream might be lined for some distance with
  • them, yet beyond there might be more open ground, I requested Toby to keep
  • a bright look-out upon one side, while I did the same on the other, in
  • order to discover some opening in the bushes, and especially to watch for
  • the slightest appearance of a path or anything else that might indicate
  • the vicinity of the islanders.
  • What furtive and anxious glances we cast into those dim-looking shades!
  • With what apprehensions we proceeded, ignorant at what moment we might be
  • greeted by the javelin of some ambushed savage! At last my companion
  • paused, and directed my attention to a narrow opening in the foliage. We
  • struck into it, and it soon brought us by an indistinctly traced path to a
  • comparatively clear space, at the farther end of which we descried a
  • number of the trees, the native name of which is “annuee,” and which bear
  • a most delicious fruit.
  • What a race! I hobbling over the ground like some decrepid wretch, and
  • Toby leaping forward like a greyhound. He quickly cleared one of the trees
  • on which there were two or three of the fruit, but to our chagrin they
  • proved to be much decayed; the rinds partly opened by the birds, and their
  • hearts half devoured. However, we quickly despatched them, and no ambrosia
  • could have been more delicious.
  • We looked about us uncertain whither to direct our steps, since the path
  • we had so far followed appeared to be lost in the open space around us. At
  • last we resolved to enter a grove near at hand, and had advanced a few
  • rods, when, just upon its skirts, I picked up a slender bread-fruit shoot
  • perfectly green, and with the tender bark freshly stript from it. It was
  • slippery with moisture, and appeared as if it had been but that moment
  • thrown aside. I said nothing, but merely held it up to Toby, who started
  • at this undeniable evidence of the vicinity of the savages.
  • The plot was now thickening.—A short distance farther lay a little faggot
  • of the same shoots bound together with a strip of bark. Could it have been
  • thrown down by some solitary native, who, alarmed at seeing us, had
  • hurried forward to carry the tidings of our approach to his
  • countrymen?—Typee or Happar?—But it was too late to recede, so we moved on
  • slowly, my companion in advance casting eager glances under the trees on
  • either side, until all at once I saw him recoil as if stung by an adder.
  • Sinking on his knee, he waved me off with one hand, while with the other
  • he held aside some intervening leaves, and gazed intently at some object.
  • Disregarding his injunction, I quickly approached him and caught a glimpse
  • of two figures partly hidden by the dense foliage; they were standing
  • close together, and were perfectly motionless. They must have previously
  • perceived us, and withdrawn into the depths of the wood to elude our
  • observation.
  • My mind was at once made up. Dropping my staff, and tearing open the
  • package of things we had brought from the ship, I unrolled the cotton
  • cloth, and holding it in one hand, plucked with the other a twig from the
  • bushes beside me, and telling Toby to follow my example, I broke through
  • the covert and advanced, waving the branch in token of peace towards the
  • shrinking forms before me.
  • They were a boy and a girl, slender and graceful, and completely naked,
  • with the exception of a slight girdle of bark, from which depended at
  • opposite points two of the russet leaves of the bread-fruit tree. An arm
  • of the boy, half screened from sight by her wild tresses, was thrown about
  • the neck of the girl, while with the other he held one of her hands in
  • his; and thus they stood together, their heads inclined forward, catching
  • the faint noise we made in our progress, and with one foot in advance, as
  • if half inclined to fly from our presence.
  • As we drew near, their alarm evidently increased. Apprehensive that they
  • might fly from us altogether, I stopped short and motioned them to advance
  • and receive the gift I extended towards them, but they would not; I then
  • uttered a few words of their language with which I was acquainted,
  • scarcely expecting that they would understand me, but to show that we had
  • not dropped from the clouds upon them. This appeared to give them a little
  • confidence, so I approached nearer, presenting the cloth with one hand,
  • and holding the bough with the other, while they slowly retreated. At last
  • they suffered us to approach so near to them that we were enabled to throw
  • the cotton cloth across their shoulders, giving them to understand that it
  • was theirs, and by a variety of gestures endeavouring to make them
  • understand that we entertained the highest possible regard for them.
  • The frightened pair now stood still, whilst we endeavoured to make them
  • comprehend the nature of our wants. In doing this Toby went through with a
  • complete series of pantomimic illustrations—opening his mouth from ear to
  • ear, and thrusting his fingers down his throat, gnashing his teeth and
  • rolling his eyes about, till I verily believe the poor creatures took us
  • for a couple of white cannibals who were about to make a meal of them.
  • When, however, they understood us, they showed no inclination to relieve
  • our wants. At this juncture it began to rain violently, and we motioned
  • them to lead us to some place of shelter. With this request they appeared
  • willing to comply, but nothing could evince more strongly the apprehension
  • with which they regarded us, than the way in which, whilst walking before
  • us, they kept their eyes constantly turned back to watch every movement we
  • made, and even our very looks.
  • “Typee or Happar, Toby?” asked I, as we walked after them.
  • “Of course, Happar,” he replied, with a show of confidence which was
  • intended to disguise his doubts.
  • “We shall soon know,” I exclaimed; and at the same moment I stepped
  • forward towards our guides, and pronouncing the two names interrogatively,
  • and pointing to the lowest part of the valley, endeavoured to come to the
  • point at once. They repeated the words after me again and again, but
  • without giving any peculiar emphasis to either, so that I was completely
  • at a loss to understand them; for a couple of wilier young things than we
  • afterwards found them to have been on this particular occasion never
  • probably fell in any traveller’s way.
  • More and more curious to ascertain our fate, I now threw together in the
  • form of a question the words “Happar” and “Mortarkee,” the latter being
  • equivalent to the word “good.” The two natives interchanged glances of
  • peculiar meaning with one another at this, and manifested no little
  • surprise; but on the repetition of the question, after some consultation
  • together, to the great joy of Toby, they answered in the affirmative. Toby
  • was now in ecstasies, especially as the young savages continued to
  • reiterate their answer with great energy, as though desirous of impressing
  • us with the idea that being among the Happars, we ought to consider
  • ourselves perfectly secure.
  • Although I had some lingering doubts, I feigned great delight with Toby at
  • this announcement, while my companion broke out into a pantomimic
  • abhorrence of Typee, and immeasurable love for the particular valley in
  • which we were; our guides all the while gazing uneasily at one another, as
  • if at a loss to account for our conduct.
  • They hurried on, and we followed them; until suddenly they set up a
  • strange halloo, which was answered from beyond the grove through which we
  • were passing, and the next moment we entered upon some open ground, at the
  • extremity of which we descried a long, low hut, and in front of it were
  • several young girls. As soon as they perceived us they fled with wild
  • screams into the adjoining thickets, like so many startled fawns. A few
  • moments after the whole valley resounded with savage outcries, and the
  • natives came running towards us from every direction.
  • Had an army of invaders made an irruption into their territory, they could
  • not have evinced greater excitement. We were soon completely encircled by
  • a dense throng, and in their eager desire to behold us, they almost
  • arrested our progress; an equal number surrounding our youthful guides,
  • who, with amazing volubility, appeared to be detailing the circumstances
  • which had attended their meeting with us. Every item of intelligence
  • appeared to redouble the astonishment of the islanders, and they gazed at
  • us with inquiring looks.
  • At last we reached a large and handsome building of bamboos, and were by
  • signs told to enter it, the natives opening a lane for us through which to
  • pass; on entering, without ceremony we threw our exhausted frames upon the
  • mats that covered the floor. In a moment the slight tenement was
  • completely full of people, whilst those who were unable to gain admittance
  • gazed at us through its open cane-work.
  • It was now evening, and by the dim light we could just discern the savage
  • countenances around us, gleaming with wild curiosity and wonder; the naked
  • forms and tattooed limbs of brawny warriors, with here and there the
  • slighter figures of young girls, all engaged in a perfect storm of
  • conversation, of which we were of course the one only theme; whilst our
  • recent guides were fully occupied in answering the innumerable questions
  • which every one put to them. Nothing can exceed the fierce gesticulation
  • of these people when animated in conversation, and on this occasion they
  • gave loose to all their natural vivacity, shouting and dancing about in a
  • manner that well-nigh intimidated us.
  • Close to where we lay, squatting upon their haunches, were some eight or
  • ten noble-looking chiefs—for such they subsequently proved to be—who, more
  • reserved than the rest, regarded us with a fixed and stern attention,
  • which not a little discomposed our equanimity. One of them in particular,
  • who appeared to be the highest in rank, placed himself directly facing me,
  • looking at me with a rigidity of aspect under which I absolutely quailed.
  • He never once opened his lips, but maintained his severe expression of
  • countenance, without turning his face aside for a single moment. Never
  • before had I been subjected to so strange and steady a glance; it revealed
  • nothing of the mind of the savage, but it appeared to be reading my own.
  • [Illustration: WE WERE SOON COMPLETELY ENCIRCLED BY A DENSE THRONG]
  • After undergoing this scrutiny till I grew absolutely nervous, with a view
  • of diverting it if possible, and conciliating the good opinion of the
  • warrior, I took some tobacco from the bosom of my frock, and offered it to
  • him. He quietly rejected the proffered gift, and, without speaking,
  • motioned me to return it to its place.
  • In my previous intercourse with the natives of Nukuheva and Tior, I had
  • found that the present of a small piece of tobacco would have rendered any
  • of them devoted to my service. Was this act of the chief a token of his
  • enmity? Typee or Happar? I asked within myself. I started, for at the same
  • moment this identical question was asked by the strange being before me. I
  • turned to Toby; the flickering light of a native taper showed me his
  • countenance pale with trepidation at this fatal question. I paused for a
  • second, and I know not by what impulse it was that I answered, “Typee.”
  • The piece of dusky statuary nodded in approval, and then murmured,
  • “Mortarkee?” “Mortarkee,” said I, without further hesitation—“Typee
  • mortarkee.”
  • What a transition! The dark figures around us leaped to their feet,
  • clapped their hands in transport, and shouted again and again the
  • talismanic syllables, the utterance of which appeared to have settled
  • everything.
  • When this commotion had a little subsided, the principal chief squatted
  • once more before me, and throwing himself into a sudden rage, poured forth
  • a string of philippics, which I was at no loss to understand, from the
  • frequent recurrence of the word Happar, as being directed against the
  • natives of the adjoining valley. In all these denunciations my companion
  • and I acquiesced, while we extolled the character of the warlike Typees.
  • To be sure our panegyrics were somewhat laconic, consisting in the
  • repetition of that name, united with the potent adjective, “Mortarkee.”
  • But this was sufficient, and served to conciliate the good-will of the
  • natives, with whom our congeniality of sentiment on this point did more
  • towards inspiring a friendly feeling than anything else that could have
  • happened.
  • At last the wrath of the chief evaporated, and in a few moments he was as
  • placid as ever. Laying his hand upon his breast, he gave me to understand
  • that his name was “Mehevi,” and that, in return, he wished me to
  • communicate my appellation. I hesitated for an instant, thinking that it
  • might be difficult for him to pronounce my real name, and then, with the
  • most praiseworthy intentions, intimated that I was known as “Tom.” But I
  • could not have made a worse selection; the chief could not master it:
  • “Tommo,” “Tomma,” “Tommee,” everything but plain “Tom.” As he persisted in
  • garnishing the word with an additional syllable, I compromised the matter
  • with him at the word “Tommo”; and by that name I went during the entire
  • period of my stay in the valley. The same proceeding was gone through with
  • Toby, whose mellifluous appellation was more easily caught.
  • An exchange of names is equivalent to a ratification of good-will and
  • amity among these simple people; and as we were aware of this fact, we
  • were delighted that it had taken place on the present occasion.
  • Reclining upon our mats, we now held a kind of levee, giving audience to
  • successive troops of the natives, who introduced themselves to us by
  • pronouncing their respective names, and retired in high good humour on
  • receiving ours in return. During the ceremony the greatest merriment
  • prevailed, nearly every announcement on the part of the islanders being
  • followed by a fresh sally of gaiety, which induced me to believe that some
  • of them at least were innocently diverting the company at our expense, by
  • bestowing upon themselves a string of absurd titles, of the honour of
  • which we were, of course, entirely ignorant.
  • All this occupied about an hour, when the throng having a little
  • diminished, I turned to Mehevi, and gave him to understand that we were in
  • need of food and sleep. Immediately the attentive chief addressed a few
  • words to one of the crowd, who disappeared, and returned in a few moments
  • with a calabash of “poee-poee,” and two or three young cocoa-nuts stripped
  • of their husks, and with their shells partly broken. We both of us
  • forthwith placed one of those natural goblets to our lips, and drained it
  • in a moment of the refreshing draught it contained. The poee-poee was then
  • placed before us, and even famished as I was, I paused to consider in what
  • manner to convey it to my mouth.
  • This staple article of food among the Marquese islanders is manufactured
  • from the produce of the bread-fruit tree. It somewhat resembles in its
  • plastic nature our bookbinders’ paste, is of a yellow colour, and somewhat
  • tart to the taste.
  • Such was the dish, the merits of which I was now eager to discuss. I eyed
  • it wistfully for a moment, and then, unable any longer to stand on
  • ceremony, plunged my hand into the yielding mass, and to the boisterous
  • mirth of the natives drew it forth laden with the poee-poee, which adhered
  • in lengthening strings to every finger. So stubborn was its consistency,
  • that in conveying my heavily-freighted hand to my mouth, the connecting
  • links almost raised the calabash from the mats on which it had been
  • placed. This display of awkwardness—in which, by the bye, Toby kept me
  • company—convulsed the bystanders with uncontrollable laughter.
  • As soon as their merriment had somewhat subsided, Mehevi, motioning us to
  • be attentive, dipped the fore-finger of his right hand in the dish, and
  • giving it a rapid and scientific twirl, drew it out coated smoothly with
  • the preparation. With a second peculiar flourish he prevented the
  • poee-poee from dropping to the ground as he raised it to his mouth, into
  • which the finger was inserted, and was drawn forth perfectly free of any
  • adhesive matter. This performance was evidently intended for our
  • instruction; so I again essayed the feat on the principles inculcated, but
  • with very ill success.
  • A starving man, however, little heeds conventional proprieties, especially
  • on a South Sea island, and accordingly Toby and I partook of the dish
  • after our own clumsy fashion, beplastering our faces all over with the
  • glutinous compound, and daubing our hands nearly to the wrist. This kind
  • of food is by no means disagreeable to the palate of a European, though at
  • first the mode of eating it may be. For my own part, after the lapse of a
  • few days I became accustomed to its singular flavour, and grew remarkably
  • fond of it.
  • So much for the first course; several other dishes followed it, some of
  • which were positively delicious. We concluded our banquet by tossing off
  • the contents of two more young cocoa-nuts, after which we regaled
  • ourselves with the soothing fumes of tobacco, inhaled from a quaintly
  • carved pipe which passed round the circle.
  • During the repast, the natives eyed us with intense curiosity, observing
  • our minutest motions, and appearing to discover abundant matter for
  • comment in the most trifling occurrence. Their surprise mounted the
  • highest, when we began to remove our uncomfortable garments, which were
  • saturated with rain. They scanned the whiteness of our limbs, and seemed
  • utterly unable to account for the contrast they presented to the swarthy
  • hue of our faces, embrowned from a six months’ exposure to the scorching
  • sun of the Line. They felt our skin, much in the same way that a silk
  • mercer would handle a remarkably fine piece of satin; and some of them
  • went so far in their investigation as to apply the olfactory organ.
  • Their singular behaviour almost led me to imagine that they never before
  • had beheld a white man; but a few moments’ reflection convinced me that
  • this could not have been the case; and a more satisfactory reason for
  • their conduct has since suggested itself to my mind.
  • Deterred by the frightful stories related of its inhabitants, ships never
  • enter this bay, while their hostile relations with the tribes in the
  • adjoining valleys prevent the Typees from visiting that section of the
  • island where vessels occasionally lie. At long intervals, however, some
  • intrepid captain will touch on the skirts of the bay, with two or three
  • armed boats’ crews, and accompanied by an interpreter. The natives who
  • live near the sea descry the strangers long before they reach their
  • waters, and aware of the purpose for which they come, proclaim loudly the
  • news of their approach. By a species of vocal telegraph the intelligence
  • reaches the inmost recesses of the vale in an inconceivably short space of
  • time, drawing nearly its whole population down to the beach laden with
  • every variety of fruit. The interpreter, who is invariably a “tabooed
  • Kannaka,”(1) leaps ashore with the goods intended for barter, while the
  • boats, with their oars shipped, and every man on his thwart, lie just
  • outside the surf, heading off from the shore, in readiness at the first
  • untoward event to escape to the open sea. As soon as the traffic is
  • concluded, one of the boats pulls in under cover of the muskets of the
  • others, the fruit is quickly thrown into her, and the transient visitors
  • precipitately retire from what they justly consider so dangerous a
  • vicinity.
  • The intercourse occurring with Europeans being so restricted, no wonder
  • that the inhabitants of the valley manifested so much curiosity with
  • regard to us, appearing as we did among them under such singular
  • circumstances. I have no doubt that we were the first white men who ever
  • penetrated thus far back into their territories, or at least the first who
  • had ever descended from the head of the vale. What had brought us thither
  • must have appeared a complete mystery to them, and from our ignorance of
  • the language it was impossible for us to enlighten them. In answer to
  • inquiries which the eloquence of their gestures enabled us to comprehend,
  • all that we could reply was, that we had come from Nukuheva, a place, be
  • it remembered, with which they were at open war. This intelligence
  • appeared to affect them with the most lively emotions. “Nukuheva
  • mortarkee?” they asked. Of course we replied most energetically in the
  • negative.
  • They then plied us with a thousand questions, of which we could understand
  • nothing more than that they had reference to the recent movements of the
  • French, against whom they seemed to cherish the most fierce hatred. So
  • eager were they to obtain information on this point, that they still
  • continued to propound their queries long after we had shown that we were
  • utterly unable to answer them. Occasionally we caught some indistinct idea
  • of their meaning, when we would endeavour by every method in our power to
  • communicate the desired intelligence. At such times their gratification
  • was boundless, and they would redouble their efforts to make us comprehend
  • them more perfectly. But all in vain; and in the end they looked at us
  • despairingly, as if we were the receptacles of invaluable information, but
  • how to come at it they knew not.
  • After awhile the group around us gradually dispersed, and we were left
  • about midnight (as we conjectured) with those who appeared to be permanent
  • residents of the house. These individuals now provided us with fresh mats
  • to lie upon, covered us with several folds of tappa, and then
  • extinguishing the tapers that had been burning, threw themselves down
  • beside us, and after a little desultory conversation were soon sound
  • asleep.
  • CHAPTER X
  • Midnight reflections—Morning visitors—A warrior in costume—A
  • savage Æsculapius—Practice of the healing art—Body-servant—A
  • dwelling-house of the valley described—Portraits of its inmates.
  • Various and conflicting were the thoughts which oppressed me during the
  • silent hours that followed the events related in the preceding chapter.
  • Toby, wearied with the fatigues of the day, slumbered heavily by my side;
  • but the pain under which I was suffering effectually prevented my
  • sleeping, and I remained distressingly alive to all the fearful
  • circumstances of our present situation. Was it possible that, after all
  • our vicissitudes, we were really in the terrible valley of Typee, and at
  • the mercy of its inmates, a fierce and unrelenting tribe of savages?
  • Typee or Happar? I shuddered when I reflected that there was no longer any
  • room for doubt; and that, beyond all hope of escape, we were now placed in
  • those very circumstances from the bare thought of which I had recoiled
  • with such abhorrence but a few days before. What might not be our fearful
  • destiny? To be sure, as yet, we had been treated with no violence; nay,
  • had been even kindly and hospitably entertained. But what dependence could
  • be placed upon the fickle passions which sway the bosom of a savage? His
  • inconstancy and treachery are proverbial. Might if not be that, beneath
  • these fair appearances, the islanders covered some perfidious design, and
  • that their friendly reception of us might only precede some horrible
  • catastrophe? How strongly did these forebodings spring up in my mind, as I
  • lay restlessly upon a couch of mats, surrounded by the dimly-revealed
  • forms of those whom I so greatly dreaded.
  • From the excitement of these fearful thoughts, I sank, towards morning,
  • into an uneasy slumber; and on awaking, with a start, in the midst of an
  • appalling dream, looked up into the eager countenances of a number of the
  • natives, who were bending over me.
  • It was broad day; and the house was nearly filled with young females,
  • fancifully decorated with flowers, who gazed upon me as I rose with faces
  • in which childish delight and curiosity were vividly portrayed. After
  • waking Toby, they seated themselves round us on the mats, and gave full
  • play to that prying inquisitiveness which, time out of mind, has been
  • attributed to the adorable sex.
  • As these unsophisticated young creatures were attended by no jealous
  • duennas, their proceedings were altogether informal, and void of
  • artificial restraint. Long and minute was the investigation with which
  • they honoured us, and so uproarious their mirth, that I felt infinitely
  • sheepish; and Toby was immeasurably outraged at their familiarity.
  • These lively young ladies were at the same time wonderfully polite and
  • humane; fanning aside the insects that occasionally lighted on our brows;
  • presenting us with food; and compassionately regarding me in the midst of
  • my afflictions. But in spite of all their blandishments, my feelings of
  • propriety were exceedingly shocked, for I could not but consider them as
  • having overstepped the due limits of female decorum.
  • Having diverted themselves to their hearts’ content, our young visitants
  • now withdrew, and gave place to successive troops of the other sex, who
  • continued flocking towards the house until near noon; by which time I have
  • no doubt that the greater part of the inhabitants of the valley had bathed
  • themselves in the light of our benignant countenances.
  • As last, when their numbers began to diminish, a superb-looking warrior
  • stooped the towering plumes of his head-dress beneath the low portal, and
  • entered the house. I saw at once that he was some distinguished personage,
  • the natives regarding him with the utmost deference, and making room for
  • him as he approached. His aspect was imposing. The splendid long drooping
  • tail-feathers of the tropical bird, thickly interspersed with the gaudy
  • plumage of the cock, were disposed in an immense upright semicircle upon
  • his head, their lower extremities being fixed in a crescent of
  • guinea-beads which spanned the forehead. Around his neck were several
  • enormous necklaces of boar’s tusks, polished like ivory, and disposed in
  • such a manner as that the longest and largest were upon his capacious
  • chest. Thrust forward through the large apertures in his ears were two
  • small and finely shaped sperm-whale teeth, presenting their cavities in
  • front, stuffed with freshly-plucked leaves, and curiously wrought at the
  • other end into strange little images and devices. These barbaric trinkets,
  • garnished in this manner at their open extremities, and tapering and
  • curving round to a point behind the ear, resembled not a little a pair of
  • cornucopias.
  • The loins of the warrior were girt about with heavy folds of a
  • dark-coloured tappa, hanging before and behind in clusters of braided
  • tassels, while anklets and bracelets of curling human hair completed his
  • unique costume. In his right hand he grasped a beautifully-carved
  • paddle-spear, nearly fifteen feet in length, made of the bright koar-wood,
  • one end sharply pointed, and the other flattened like an oar-blade.
  • Hanging obliquely from his girdle by a loop of sinnate, was a
  • richly-decorated pipe; the slender reed forming its stem was coloured with
  • a red pigment, and round it, as well as the idol-bowl, fluttered little
  • streamers of the thinnest tappa.
  • But that which was most remarkable in the appearance of this splendid
  • islander, was the elaborate tattooing displayed on every noble limb. All
  • imaginable lines and curves and figures were delineated over his whole
  • body, and in their grotesque variety and infinite profusion, I could only
  • compare them to the crowded groupings of quaint patterns we sometimes see
  • in costly pieces of lacework. The most simple and remarkable of all these
  • ornaments was that which decorated the countenance of the chief. Two broad
  • stripes of tattooing, diverging from the centre of his shaven crown,
  • obliquely crossed both eyes—staining the lids—to a little below either
  • ear, where they united with another stripe, which swept in a straight line
  • along the lips, and formed the base of the triangle. The warrior, from the
  • excellence of his physical proportions, might certainly have been regarded
  • as one of nature’s noblemen, and the lines drawn upon his face may
  • possibly have denoted his exalted rank.
  • This warlike personage, upon entering the house, seated himself at some
  • distance from the spot where Toby and myself reposed, while the rest of
  • the savages looked alternately from us to him, as if in expectation of
  • something they were disappointed in not perceiving. Regarding the chief
  • attentively, I thought his lineaments appeared familiar to me. As soon as
  • his full face was turned upon me, and I again beheld its extraordinary
  • embellishment, and met the strange gaze to which I had been subjected the
  • preceding night, I immediately, in spite of the alteration in his
  • appearance, recognised the noble Mehevi. On addressing him, he advanced at
  • once in the most cordial manner, and greeting me warmly, seemed to enjoy
  • not a little the effect his barbaric costume had produced upon me.
  • I forthwith determined to secure, if possible, the goodwill of this
  • individual, as I easily perceived he was a man of great authority in his
  • tribe, and one who might exert a powerful influence upon our subsequent
  • fate. In the endeavour I was not repulsed; for nothing could surpass the
  • friendliness he manifested towards both my companion and myself. He
  • extended his sturdy limbs by our side, and endeavoured to make us
  • comprehend the full extent of the kindly feelings by which he was
  • actuated. The almost insuperable difficulty in communicating to one
  • another our ideas, affected the chief with no little mortification. He
  • evinced a great desire to be enlightened with regard to the customs and
  • peculiarities of the far-off country we had left behind us, and to which,
  • under the name of Maneeka, he frequently alluded.
  • But that which more than any other subject engaged his attention, was the
  • late proceedings of the “Franee,” as he called the French, in the
  • neighbouring bay of Nukuheva. This seemed a never-ending theme with him,
  • and one concerning which he was never weary of interrogating us. All the
  • information we succeeded in imparting to him on this subject was little
  • more than that we had seen six men-of-war lying in the hostile bay at the
  • time we had left it. When he received this intelligence, Mehevi, by the
  • aid of his fingers, went through a long numerical calculation, as if
  • estimating the number of Frenchmen the squadron might contain.
  • It was just after employing his faculties in this way that he happened to
  • notice the swelling in my limb. He immediately examined it with the utmost
  • attention, and after doing so, despatched a boy, who happened to be
  • standing by, with some message.
  • After the lapse of a few moments the stripling re-entered the house with
  • an aged islander, who might have been taken for old Hippocrates himself.
  • His head was as bald as the polished surface of a cocoa-nut shell, which
  • article it precisely resembled in smoothness and colour, while a long
  • silvery beard swept almost to his girdle of bark. Encircling his temples
  • was a bandeau of the twisted leaves of the Omoo tree, pressed closely over
  • the brows to shield his feeble vision from the glare of the sun. His
  • tottering steps were supported by a long slim staff, resembling the wand
  • with which a theatrical magician appears on the stage, and in one hand he
  • carried a freshly-plaited fan of the green leaflets of the cocoa-nut tree.
  • A flowing robe of tappa, knotted over the shoulder, hung loosely round his
  • stooping form, and heightened the venerableness of his aspect.
  • Mehevi, saluting this old gentleman, motioned him to a seat between us,
  • and then uncovering my limb, desired him to examine it. The leech gazed
  • intently from me to Toby, and then proceeded to business. After diligently
  • observing the ailing member, he commenced manipulating it; and on the
  • supposition probably that the complaint had deprived the leg of all
  • sensation, began to pinch and hammer it in such a manner that I absolutely
  • roared with the pain. Thinking that I was as capable of making an
  • application of thumps and pinches to the part as any one else, I
  • endeavoured to resist this species of medical treatment. But it was not so
  • easy a matter to get out of the clutches of the old wizard; he fastened on
  • the unfortunate limb as if it were something for which he had been long
  • seeking, and muttering some kind of incantation continued his discipline,
  • pounding it after a fashion that set me well-nigh crazy; while Mehevi,
  • upon the same principle which prompts an affectionate mother to hold a
  • struggling child in a dentist’s chair, restrained me in his powerful
  • grasp, and actually encouraged the wretch in this infliction of torture.
  • Almost frantic with rage and pain, I yelled like a bedlamite; while Toby,
  • throwing himself into all the attitudes of a posture-master, vainly
  • endeavoured to expostulate with the natives by signs and gestures. To have
  • looked at my companion, as, sympathizing with my sufferings, he strove to
  • put an end to them, one would have thought that he was the deaf and dumb
  • alphabet incarnated. Whether my tormentor yielded to Toby’s entreaties, or
  • paused from sheer exhaustion, I do not know; but all at once he ceased his
  • operations, and at the same time the chief relinquishing his hold upon me,
  • I fell back, faint and breathless with the agony I had endured.
  • My unfortunate limb was now left much in the same condition as a
  • rump-steak after undergoing the castigating process which precedes
  • cooking. My physician, having recovered from the fatigues of his
  • exertions, as if anxious to make amends for the pain to which he had
  • subjected me, now took some herbs out of a little wallet that was
  • suspended from his waist, and moistening them in water, applied them to
  • the inflamed part, stooping over it at the same time, and either
  • whispering a spell, or having a little confidential chat with some
  • imaginary demon located in the calf of my leg. My limb was now swathed in
  • leafy bandages, and grateful to Providence for the cessation of
  • hostilities, I was suffered to rest.
  • Mehevi shortly after rose to depart; but before he went he spoke
  • authoritatively to one of the natives, whom he addressed as Kory-Kory; and
  • from the little I could understand of what took place, pointed him out to
  • me as a man whose peculiar business henceforth would be to attend upon my
  • person. I am not certain that I comprehended as much as this at the time,
  • but the subsequent conduct of my trusty body-servant fully assured me that
  • such must have been the case.
  • I could not but be amused at the manner in which the chief addressed me
  • upon this occasion, talking to me for at least fifteen or twenty minutes
  • as calmly as if I could understand every word that he said. I remarked
  • this peculiarity very often afterwards in many other of the islanders.
  • Mehevi having now departed, and the family physician having likewise made
  • his exit, we were left about sunset with the ten or twelve natives, who by
  • this time I had ascertained composed the household of which Toby and I
  • were members. As the dwelling to which we had been first introduced was
  • the place of my permanent abode while I remained in the valley, and as I
  • was necessarily placed upon the most intimate footing with its occupants,
  • I may as well here enter into a little description of it and its
  • inhabitants. This description will apply also to nearly all the other
  • dwelling-places in the vale, and will furnish some idea of the generality
  • of the natives.
  • Near one side of the valley, and about midway up the ascent of a rather
  • abrupt rise of ground waving with the richest verdure, a number of large
  • stones were laid in successive courses, to the height of nearly eight
  • feet, and disposed in such a manner that their level surface corresponded
  • in shape with the habitation which was perched upon it. A narrow space,
  • however, was reserved in front of the dwelling, upon the summit of this
  • pile of stones (called by the natives a “pi-pi”), which, being enclosed by
  • a little picket of canes, gave it somewhat the appearance of a verandah.
  • The frame of the house was constructed of large bamboos planted uprightly,
  • and secured together at intervals by transverse stalks of the light wood
  • of the Habiscus, lashed with thongs of bark. The rear of the
  • tenement—built up with successive ranges of cocoa-nut boughs bound one
  • upon another, with their leaflets cunningly woven together—inclined a
  • little from the vertical, and extended from the extreme edge of the
  • “pi-pi” to about twenty feet from its surface; whence the shelving
  • roof—thatched with the long tapering leaves of the palmetto—sloped steeply
  • off to within about five feet of the floor; leaving the eaves drooping
  • with tassel-like appendages over the front of the habitation. This was
  • constructed of light and elegant canes, in a kind of open screen-work,
  • tastefully adorned with bindings of variegated sinnate, which served to
  • hold together its various parts. The sides of the house were similarly
  • built; thus presenting three-quarters for the circulation of the air,
  • while the whole was impervious to the rain.
  • In length this picturesque building was perhaps twelve yards, while in
  • breadth it could not have exceeded as many feet. So much for the exterior;
  • which, with its wire-like reed-twisted sides, not a little reminded me of
  • an immense aviary.
  • Stooping a little, you passed through a narrow aperture in its front; and
  • facing you, on entering, lay two long, perfectly straight, and
  • well-polished trunks of the cocoa-nut tree, extending the full length of
  • the dwelling; one of them placed closely against the rear, and the other
  • lying parallel with it some two yards distant, the interval between them
  • being spread with a multitude of gaily-worked mats, nearly all of a
  • different pattern. This space formed the common couch and lounging-place
  • of the natives, answering the purpose of a divan in Oriental countries.
  • Here would they slumber through the hours of the night, and recline
  • luxuriously during the greater part of the day. The remainder of the floor
  • presented only the cool shining surfaces of the large stones of which the
  • “pi-pi” was composed.
  • From the ridge-pole of the house hung suspended a number of large packages
  • enveloped in coarse tappa; some of which contained festival dresses, and
  • various other matters of the wardrobe, held in high estimation. These were
  • easily accessible by means of a line, which, passing over the ridge-pole,
  • had one end attached to a bundle, while with the other, which led to the
  • side of the dwelling and was there secured, the package could be lowered
  • or elevated at pleasure.
  • Against the farther wall of the house were arranged in tasteful figures a
  • variety of spears and javelins, and other implements of savage warfare.
  • Outside of the habitation, and built upon the piazza-like area in its
  • front, was a little shed used as a sort of larder or pantry, and in which
  • were stored various articles of domestic use and convenience. A few yards
  • from the pi-pi was a large shed built of cocoa-nut boughs, where the
  • process of preparing the “poee-poee” was carried on, and all culinary
  • operations attended to.
  • Thus much for the house, and its appurtenances; and it will be readily
  • acknowledged that a more commodious and appropriate dwelling for the
  • climate and the people could not possibly be devised. It was cool, free to
  • admit the air, scrupulously clean, and elevated above the dampness and
  • impurities of the ground.
  • But now to sketch the inmates; and here I claim for my tried servitor and
  • faithful valet Kory-Kory the precedence of a first description. As his
  • character will be gradually unfolded in the course of my narrative, I
  • shall for the present content myself with delineating his personal
  • appearance. Kory-Kory, though the most devoted and best-natured
  • serving-man in the world, was, alas! a hideous object to look upon. He was
  • some twenty-five years of age, and about six feet in height, robust and
  • well made, and of the most extraordinary aspect. His head was carefully
  • shaven with the exception of two circular spots, about the size of a
  • dollar, near the top of the cranium, where the hair, permitted to grow of
  • an amazing length, was twisted up in two prominent knots, that gave him
  • the appearance of being decorated with a pair of horns. His beard, plucked
  • out by the root from every other part of his face, was suffered to droop
  • in hairy pendants, two of which garnished his upper lip, and an equal
  • number hung from the extremity of his chin.
  • Kory-Kory, with the view of improving the handiwork of nature, and perhaps
  • prompted by a desire to add to the engaging expression of his countenance,
  • had seen fit to embellish his face with three broad longitudinal stripes
  • of tattooing, which, like those country roads that go straight forward in
  • defiance of all obstacles, crossed his nasal organ, descended into the
  • hollow of his eyes, and even skirted the borders of his mouth. Each
  • completely spanned his physiognomy; one extending in a line with his eyes,
  • another crossing the face in the vicinity of the nose, and the third
  • sweeping along his lips from ear to ear. His countenance thus triply
  • hooped, as it were, with tattooing, always reminded me of those unhappy
  • wretches whom I have sometimes observed gazing out sentimentally from
  • behind the grated bars of a prison window; whilst the entire body of my
  • savage valet, covered all over with representations of birds and fishes,
  • and a variety of most unaccountable-looking creatures, suggested to me the
  • idea of a pictorial museum of natural history, or an illustrated copy of
  • Goldsmith’s _Animated Nature_.
  • But it seems really heartless in me to write thus of the poor islander,
  • when I owe perhaps to his unremitting attentions the very existence I now
  • enjoy. Kory-Kory, I mean thee no harm in what I say in regard to thy
  • outward adornings; but they were a little curious to my unaccustomed
  • sight, and therefore I dilate upon them. But to underrate or forget thy
  • faithful services is something I could never be guilty of, even in the
  • giddiest moment of my life.
  • The father of my attached follower was a native of gigantic frame, and had
  • once possessed prodigious physical powers; but the lofty form was now
  • yielding to the inroads of time, though the hand of disease seemed never
  • to have been laid upon the aged warrior. Marheyo—for such was his
  • name—appeared to have retired from all active participation in the affairs
  • of the valley, seldom or never accompanying the natives in their various
  • expeditions; and employing the greater part of his time in throwing up a
  • little shed just outside the house, upon which he was engaged to my
  • certain knowledge for four months, without appearing to make any sensible
  • advance. I suppose the old gentleman was in his dotage, for he manifested
  • in various ways the characteristics which mark this particular stage of
  • life.
  • I remember in particular his having a choice pair of ear-ornaments,
  • fabricated from the teeth of some sea-monster. These he would alternately
  • wear and take off at least fifty times in the course of the day, going and
  • coming from his little hut on each occasion with all the tranquillity
  • imaginable. Sometimes slipping them through the slits in his ears, he
  • would seize his spear—which in length and slightness resembled a
  • fishing-pole—and go stalking beneath the shadows of the neighbouring
  • groves, as if about to give a hostile meeting to some cannibal knight. But
  • he would soon return again, and hiding his weapon under the protecting
  • eaves of the house, and rolling his clumsy trinkets carefully in a piece
  • of tappa, would resume his more pacific operations as quietly as if he had
  • never interrupted them.
  • But despite his eccentricities, Marheyo was a most paternal and
  • warm-hearted old fellow, and in this particular not a little resembled his
  • son Kory-Kory. The mother of the latter was the mistress of the family,
  • and a notable housewife, and a most industrious old lady she was. If she
  • did not understand the art of making jellies, jams, custards, tea-cakes,
  • and such like trashy affairs, she was profoundly skilled in the mysteries
  • of preparing “amar,” “poee-poee,” and “kokoo,” with other substantial
  • matters. She was a genuine busy-body; bustling about the house like a
  • country landlady at an unexpected arrival; for ever giving the young girls
  • tasks to perform, which the little hussies as often neglected; poking into
  • every corner, and rummaging over bundles of old tappa, or making a
  • prodigious clatter among the calabashes. Sometimes she might have been
  • seen squatting upon her haunches in front of a huge wooden basin, and
  • kneading poee-poee with terrific vehemence, dashing the stone pestle about
  • as if she would shiver the vessel into fragments: on other occasions,
  • galloping about the valley in search of a particular kind of leaf, used in
  • some of her recondite operations, and returning home, toiling and
  • sweating, with a bundle, under which most women would have sunk.
  • To tell the truth, Kory-Kory’s mother was the only industrious person in
  • all the valley of Typee; and she could not have employed herself more
  • actively had she been left an exceedingly muscular and destitute widow,
  • with an inordinate supply of young children, in the bleakest part of the
  • civilized world. There was not the slightest necessity for the greater
  • portion of the labour performed by the old lady: but she deemed to work
  • from some irresistible impulse; her limbs continually swaying to and fro,
  • as if there were some indefatigable engine concealed within her body which
  • kept her in perpetual motion.
  • Never suppose that she was a termagant or a shrew for all this: she had
  • the kindliest heart in the world, and acted towards me in particular in a
  • truly maternal manner, occasionally putting some little morsel of choice
  • food into my hand, some outlandish kind of savage sweetmeat or pastry,
  • like a doting mother petting a sickly urchin with tarts and sugar-plums.
  • Warm indeed are my remembrances of the dear, good, affectionate old Tinor!
  • Besides the individuals I have mentioned, there belong to the household
  • three young men, dissipated, good-for-nothing, roystering blades of
  • savages, who were either employed in prosecuting love affairs with the
  • maidens of the tribe, or grew boozy on “arva” and tobacco in the company
  • of congenial spirits, the scapegraces of the valley.
  • Among the permanent inmates of the house were likewise several lovely
  • damsels, who instead of thrumming pianos and reading novels, like more
  • enlightened young ladies, substituted for these employments the
  • manufacture of a fine species of tappa; but for the greater portion of the
  • time were skipping from house to house, gadding and gossiping with their
  • acquaintances.
  • From the rest of these, however, I must except the beauteous nymph
  • Fayaway, who was my peculiar favourite. Her free pliant figure was the
  • very perfection of female grace and beauty. Her complexion was a rich and
  • mantling olive, and when watching the glow upon her cheeks I could almost
  • swear that beneath the transparent medium there lurked the blushes of a
  • faint vermilion. The face of this girl was a rounded oval, and each
  • feature as perfectly formed as the heart or imagination of man could
  • desire. Her full lips, when parted with a smile, disclosed teeth of a
  • dazzling whiteness; and when her rosy mouth opened with a burst of
  • merriment, they looked like the milk-white seeds of the “arta,” a fruit of
  • the valley, which, when cleft in twain, shows them reposing in rows on
  • either side, embedded in the red and juicy pulp. Her hair of the deepest
  • brown, parted irregularly in the middle, flowed in natural ringlets over
  • her shoulders, and whenever she chanced to stoop, fell over and hid from
  • view her lovely bosom. Gazing into the depths of her strange blue eyes,
  • when she was in a contemplative mood, they seemed most placid yet
  • unfathomable; but when illuminated by some lively emotion, they beamed
  • upon the beholder like stars. The hands of Fayaway were as soft and
  • delicate as those of any countess; for an entire exemption from rude
  • labour marks the girlhood and even prime of a Typee woman’s life. Her
  • feet, though wholly exposed, were as diminutive and fairly shaped as those
  • which peep from beneath the skirts of a Lima lady’s dress. The skin of
  • this young creature, from continual ablutions and the use of mollifying
  • ointments, was inconceivably smooth and soft.
  • I may succeed, perhaps, in particularizing some of the individual features
  • of Fayaway’s beauty, but that general loveliness of appearance which they
  • all contributed to produce I will not attempt to describe. The easy
  • unstudied graces of a child of nature like this, breathing from infancy an
  • atmosphere of perpetual summer, and nurtured by the simple fruits of the
  • earth; enjoying a perfect freedom from care and anxiety, and removed
  • effectually from all injurious tendencies, strike the eye in a manner
  • which cannot be portrayed. This picture is no fancy sketch; it is drawn
  • from the most vivid recollections of the person delineated.
  • Were I asked if the beauteous form of Fayaway was altogether free from the
  • hideous blemish of tattooing, I should be constrained to answer that it
  • was not. But the practitioners of this barbarous art, so remorseless in
  • their inflictions upon the brawny limbs of the warriors of the tribe, seem
  • to be conscious that it needs not the resources of their profession to
  • augment the charms of the maidens of the vale.
  • The females are very little embellished in this way, and Fayaway, and all
  • the other young girls of her age, were even less so than those of their
  • sex more advanced in years. The reason of this peculiarity will be alluded
  • to hereafter. All the tattooing that the nymph in question exhibited upon
  • her person may be easily described. Three minute dots, no bigger than
  • pinheads, decorated either lip, and at a little distance were not at all
  • discernible. Just upon the fall of the shoulder were drawn two parallel
  • lines half an inch apart, and perhaps three inches in length, the interval
  • being filled with delicately executed figures. These narrow bands of
  • tattooing, thus placed, always reminded me of those stripes of gold lace
  • worn by officers in undress, and which are in lieu of epaulettes to denote
  • their rank.
  • Thus much was Fayaway tattooed. The audacious hand which had gone so far
  • in its desecrating work stopping short, apparently wanting the heart to
  • proceed.
  • But I have neglected to describe the dress worn by this nymph of the
  • valley.
  • Fayaway—I must avow the fact—for the most part clung to the primitive and
  • summer garb of Eden. But how becoming the costume! It showed her fine
  • figure to the best possible advantage; and nothing could have been better
  • adapted to her peculiar style of beauty. On ordinary occasions she was
  • habited precisely as I have described the two youthful savages whom we had
  • met on first entering the valley. At other times, when rambling among the
  • groves, or visiting at the houses of her acquaintances, she wore a tunic
  • of white tappa, reaching from her waist to a little below the knees; and
  • when exposed for any length of time to the sun, she invariably protected
  • herself from its rays by a floating mantle of the same material, loosely
  • gathered about the person. Her gala dress will be described hereafter.
  • As the beauties of our own land delight in bedecking themselves with
  • fanciful articles of jewelry, suspending them from their ears, hanging
  • them about their necks, and clasping them around their wrists; so Fayaway
  • and her companions were in the habit of ornamenting themselves with
  • similar appendages.
  • Flora was their jeweller. Sometimes they wore necklaces of small carnation
  • flowers, strung like rubies upon a fibre of tappa, or displayed in their
  • ears a single white bud, the stem thrust backward through the aperture,
  • and showing in front the delicate petals folded together in a beautiful
  • sphere, and looking like a drop of the purest pearl. Chaplets, too,
  • resembling in their arrangement the strawberry coronal worn by an English
  • peeress, and composed of intertwined leaves and blossoms, often crowned
  • their temples; and bracelets and anklets of the same tasteful pattern were
  • frequently to be seen. Indeed, the maidens of the island were passionately
  • fond of flowers, and never wearied of decorating their persons with them;
  • a lovely trait of character, and one that ere long will be more fully
  • alluded to.
  • Though in my eyes, at least, Fayaway was indisputably the loveliest female
  • I saw in Typee, yet the description I have given of her will in some
  • measure apply to nearly all the youthful portion of her sex in the valley.
  • Judge ye then, reader, what beautiful creatures they must have been.
  • CHAPTER XI
  • Officiousness of Kory-Kory—His devotion—A bath in the stream—Want
  • of refinement of the Typee damsels—Stroll with Mehevi—A Typee
  • highway—The Taboo groves—The hoolah hoolah ground—The Ti—Timeworn
  • savages—Hospitality of Mehevi—Midnight musings—Adventure in the
  • dark—Distinguished honours paid to the visitors—Strange
  • procession, and return to the house of Marheyo.
  • When Mehevi had departed from the house, as related in the preceding
  • chapter, Kory-Kory commenced the functions of the post assigned him. He
  • brought us various kinds of food; and, as if I were an infant, insisted
  • upon feeding me with his own hands. To this procedure I, of course, most
  • earnestly objected, but in vain; and having laid a calabash of kokoo
  • before me, he washed his fingers in a vessel of water, and then putting
  • his hand into the dish, and rolling the food into little balls, put them
  • one after another into my mouth. All my remonstrances against this measure
  • only provoked so great a clamor on his part, that I was obliged to
  • acquiesce; and the operation of feeding being thus facilitated, the meal
  • was quickly despatched. As for Toby, he was allowed to help himself after
  • his own fashion.
  • The repast over, my attendant arranged the mats for repose, and, bidding
  • me lie down, covered me with a large robe of tappa, at the same time
  • looking approvingly upon me, and exclaiming, “Ki-Ki, muee muee, ah! moee
  • moee mortarkee,” (eat plenty, ah! sleep very good.) The philosophy of this
  • sentiment I did not pretend to question; for deprived of sleep for several
  • preceding nights, and the pain in my limb having much abated, I now felt
  • inclined to avail myself of the opportunity afforded me.
  • The next morning, on waking, I found Kory-Kory stretched out on one side
  • of me, while my companion lay upon the other. I felt sensibly refreshed
  • after a night of sound repose, and immediately agreed to the proposition
  • of my valet that I should repair to the water and wash, although dreading
  • the suffering that the exertion might produce. From this apprehension,
  • however, I was quickly relieved; for Kory-Kory, leaping from the pi-pi,
  • and then backing himself up against it, like a porter in readiness to
  • shoulder a trunk, with loud vociferations, and a superabundance of
  • gestures gave me to understand that I was to mount upon his back, and be
  • thus transported to the stream, which flowed perhaps two hundred yards
  • from the house.
  • Our appearance upon the verandah in front of the habitation drew together
  • quite a crowd, who stood looking on, and conversing with one another in
  • the most animated manner. They reminded one of a group of idlers gathered
  • about the door of a village tavern, when the equipage of some
  • distinguished traveller is brought round previous to his departure. As
  • soon as I clasped my arms about the neck of the devoted fellow, and he
  • jogged off with me, the crowd—composed chiefly of young girls and
  • boys—followed after, shouting and capering with infinite glee, and
  • accompanied us to the banks of the stream.
  • On gaining it, Kory-Kory, wading up to his hips in the water, carried me
  • half-way across, and deposited me on a smooth black stone, which rose a
  • few inches above the surface. The amphibious rabble at our heels plunged
  • in after us; and, climbing to the summit of the grass-grown rocks, with
  • which the bed of the brook was here and there broken, waited curiously to
  • witness our morning ablutions. I felt somewhat embarrassed by the presence
  • of the female portion of the company, but, nevertheless, removed my frock,
  • and washed myself down to my waist in the stream. As soon as Kory-Kory
  • comprehended from my motions that this was to be the extent of my
  • performance, he appeared perfectly aghast with astonishment, and rushing
  • toward me, poured out a torrent of words in eager deprecation of so
  • limited an operation, enjoining me by unmistakable signs to immerse my
  • whole body. To this I was forced to consent; and the honest fellow
  • regarding me as a froward, inexperienced child, whom it was his duty to
  • serve at the risk of offending, lifted me from, the rock, and tenderly
  • bathed my limbs. This over, and resuming my seat, I could not avoid
  • bursting into admiration of the scene around me.
  • From the verdant surfaces of the large stones that lay scattered about,
  • the natives were now sliding off into the water, diving and ducking
  • beneath the surface in all directions; the young girls springing buoyantly
  • into the air, with their long tresses dancing about their shoulders, their
  • eyes sparkling like drops of dew in the sun, and their gay laughter
  • pealing forth at every frolicsome incident.
  • On the afternoon of the day that I took my first bath in the valley, we
  • received another visit from Mehevi. The noble savage seemed to be in the
  • same pleasant mood, and was quite as cordial in his manner as before.
  • After remaining about an hour, he rose from the mats, and motioning to
  • leave the house, invited Toby and myself to accompany him. I pointed to my
  • leg; but Mehevi in his turn pointed to Kory-Kory, and removed that
  • objection; so, mounting upon the faithful fellow’s shoulders again—like
  • the old man of the sea astride of Sinbad—I followed after the chief.
  • The nature of the route we now pursued struck me more forcibly than
  • anything I had yet seen, as illustrating the indolent disposition of the
  • islanders. The path was obviously the most beaten one in the valley,
  • several others leading from either side into it, and perhaps for
  • successive generations it had formed the principal avenue of the place.
  • And yet, until I grew more familiar with its impediments, it seemed as
  • difficult to travel as the recesses of a wilderness. Part of it swept
  • around an abrupt rise of ground, the surface of which was broken by
  • frequent inequalities, and thickly strewn with projecting masses of rocks,
  • whose summits were often hidden from view by the drooping foliage of the
  • luxurious vegetation. Sometimes directly over, sometimes evading these
  • obstacles with a wide circuit, the path wound along—one moment climbing
  • over a sudden eminence, smooth with continued wear, then descending on the
  • other side into a steep glen, and crossing the flinty channel of a brook.
  • Here it pursued the depths of a glade, occasionally obliging you to stoop
  • beneath vast horizontal branches; and now you stepped over huge trunks and
  • boughs that lay rotting across the track.
  • Such was the grand thoroughfare of Typee. After proceeding a little
  • distance along it—Kory-Kory panting and blowing with the weight of his
  • burden—I dismounted from his back, and grasping the long spear of Mehevi
  • in my hand, assisted my steps over the numerous obstacles of the road;
  • preferring this mode of advance to one which, from the difficulties of the
  • way, was equally painful to myself and my wearied servitor.
  • Our journey was soon at an end; for, scaling a sudden height, we came
  • abruptly upon the place of our destination. I wish that it were possible
  • to sketch in words this spot as vividly as I recollect it.
  • Here were situated the Taboo groves of the valley—the scene of many a
  • prolonged feast, of many a horrid rite. Beneath the dark shadows of the
  • consecrated bread-fruit trees there reigned a solemn twilight—a
  • cathedral-like gloom. The frightful genius of pagan worship seemed to
  • brood in silence over the place, breathing its spell upon every object
  • around. Here and there, in the depths of these awful shades, half screened
  • from sight by masses of overhanging foliage, rose the idolatrous altars of
  • the savages, built of enormous blocks of black and polished stone, placed
  • one upon another, without cement, to the height of twelve or fifteen feet,
  • and surmounted by a rustic open temple, enclosed with a low picket of
  • canes, within which might be seen, in various stages of decay, offerings
  • of bread-fruit and cocoa-nuts, and the putrefying relics of some recent
  • sacrifice.
  • In the midst of the wood was the hallowed “hoolah hoolah” ground—set apart
  • for the celebration of the fantastical religious ritual of these
  • people—comprising an extensive oblong pi-pi, terminating at either end in
  • a lofty terraced altar, guarded by ranks of hideous wooden idols, and with
  • the two remaining sides flanked by ranges of bamboo sheds, opening towards
  • the interior of the quadrangle thus formed. Vast trees, standing in the
  • middle of this space, and throwing over it an umbrageous shade, had their
  • massive trunks built round with slight stages, elevated a few feet above
  • the ground, and railed in with canes, forming so many rustic pulpits, from
  • which the priests harangued their devotees.
  • This holiest of spots was defended from profanation by the strictest
  • edicts of the all-pervading “taboo,” which condemned to instant death the
  • sacrilegious female who should enter or touch its sacred precincts, or
  • even so much as press with her feet the ground made holy by the shadows
  • that it cast.
  • Access was had to the enclosure through an embowered entrance on one side,
  • facing a number of towering cocoa-nut trees, planted at intervals along a
  • level area of a hundred yards. At the farther extremity of this space was
  • to be seen a building of considerable size, reserved for the habitation of
  • the priests and religious attendants of the grove.
  • In its vicinity was another remarkable edifice, built as usual upon the
  • summit of a pi-pi, and at least two hundred feet in length, though not
  • more than twenty in breadth. The whole front of this latter structure was
  • completely open, and from one end to the other ran a narrow verandah,
  • fenced in on the edge of the pi-pi with a picket of canes. Its interior
  • presented the appearance of an immense lounging-place, the entire floor
  • being strewn with successive layers of mats, lying between parallel trunks
  • of cocoa-nut trees, selected for the purpose from the straightest and most
  • symmetrical the vale afforded.
  • To this building, denominated in the language of the natives, the “Ti,”
  • Mehevi now conducted us. Thus far we had been accompanied by a troop of
  • the natives of both sexes; but as soon as we approached its vicinity, the
  • females gradually separated themselves from the crowd, and standing aloof,
  • permitted us to pass on. The merciless prohibitions of the taboo extended
  • likewise to this edifice, and were enforced by the same dreadful penalty
  • that secured the hoolah hoolah ground from the imaginary pollution of a
  • woman’s presence.
  • On entering the house, I was surprised to see six muskets ranged against
  • the bamboo on one side, from the barrels of which depended as many small
  • canvas pouches, partly filled with powder. Disposed about these muskets,
  • like the cutlasses that decorate the bulkhead of a man-of-war’s cabin,
  • were a great variety of rude spears and paddles, javelins, and war-clubs.
  • This then, said I to Toby, must be the armoury of the tribe.
  • As we advanced farther along the building, we were struck with the aspect
  • of four or five hideous old wretches, on whose decrepid forms time and
  • tattooing seemed to have obliterated every trace of humanity. Owing to the
  • continued operation of this latter process, which only terminates among
  • the warriors of the island after all the figures stretched upon their
  • limbs in youth have been blended together—an effect, however, produced
  • only in cases of extreme longevity—the bodies of these men were of a
  • uniform dull green colour—the hue which the tattooing gradually assumes as
  • the individual advances in age. Their skin had a frightful scaly
  • appearance, which, united with its singular colour, made their limbs not a
  • little resemble dusty specimens of verde-antique. Their flesh, in parts,
  • hung upon them in huge folds, like the overlapping plaits on the flank of
  • a rhinoceros. Their heads were completely bald, whilst their faces were
  • puckered into a thousand wrinkles, and they presented no vestige of a
  • beard. But the most remarkable peculiarity about them was the appearance
  • of their feet; the toes, like the radiating lines of the mariner’s
  • compass, pointed to every quarter of the horizon. This was doubtless
  • attributable to the fact, that during nearly a hundred years of existence
  • the said toes never had been subjected to any artificial confinement, and
  • in their old age, being averse to close neighbourhood, bid one another
  • keep open order.
  • These repulsive-looking creatures appeared to have lost the use of their
  • lower limbs altogether; sitting upon the floor cross-legged, in a state of
  • torpor. They never heeded us in the least, scarcely looking conscious of
  • our presence, while Mehevi seated us upon the mats, and Kory-Kory gave
  • utterance to some unintelligible gibberish.
  • In a few moments, a boy entered with a wooden trencher of poee-poee; and
  • in regaling myself with its contents, I was obliged again to submit to the
  • officious intervention of my indefatigable servitor. Various other dishes
  • followed, the chief manifesting the most hospitable importunity in
  • pressing us to partake, and to remove all bashfulness on our part, set us
  • no despicable example in his own person.
  • The repast concluded, a pipe was lighted, which passed from mouth to
  • mouth, and yielding to its soporific influence, the quiet of the place,
  • and the deepening shadows of approaching night, my companion and I sank
  • into a kind of drowsy repose, while the chief and Kory-Kory seemed to be
  • slumbering beside us.
  • I awoke from an uneasy nap, about midnight, as I supposed; and, raising
  • myself partly from the mat, became sensible that we were enveloped in
  • utter darkness. Toby lay still asleep, but our late companions had
  • disappeared. The only sound that interrupted the silence of the place was
  • the asthmatic breathing of the old men I have mentioned, who reposed at a
  • little distance from us. Besides them, as well as I could judge, there was
  • no one else in the house.
  • Apprehensive of some evil, I roused my comrade, and we were engaged in a
  • whispered conference concerning the unexpected withdrawal of the natives,
  • when all at once, from the depths of the grove, in full view of us where
  • we lay, shoots of flame were seen to rise, and in a few moments
  • illuminated the surrounding trees, casting, by contrast, into still deeper
  • gloom the darkness around us.
  • While we continued gazing at this sight, dark figures appeared moving to
  • and fro before the flames; while others, dancing and capering about,
  • looked like so many demons.
  • Regarding this new phenomenon with no small degree of trepidation, I said
  • to my companion, “What can all this mean, Toby?”
  • “Oh, nothing,” replied he; “getting the fire ready, I suppose.”
  • “Fire!” exclaimed I, while my heart took to beating like a trip-hammer,
  • “what fire?”
  • “Why, the fire to cook us, to be sure; what else would the cannibals be
  • kicking up such a row about, if it were not for that?”
  • “Oh, Toby! have done with your jokes; this is no time for them: something
  • is about to happen, I feel confident.”
  • “Jokes, indeed!” exclaimed Toby, indignantly. “Did you ever hear me joke?
  • Why, for what do you suppose the devils have been feeding us up in this
  • kind of style for during the last three days, unless it were for something
  • that you are too much frightened at to talk about? Look at that Kory-Kory
  • there!—has he not been stuffing you with his confounded mushes, just in
  • the way they treat swine before they kill them? Depend upon it, we will be
  • eaten this blessed night, and there is the fire we shall be roasted by.”
  • This view of the matter was not at all calculated to allay my
  • apprehensions, and I shuddered when I reflected that we were indeed at the
  • mercy of a tribe of cannibals, and that the dreadful contingency to which
  • Toby had alluded was by no means removed beyond the bounds of possibility.
  • “There! I told you so! they are coming for us!” exclaimed my companion the
  • next moment, as the forms of four of the islanders were seen in bold
  • relief against the illuminated background, mounting the pi-pi, and
  • approaching us.
  • They came on noiselessly, nay, stealthily, and glided along through the
  • gloom that surrounded us, as if about to spring upon some object they were
  • fearful of disturbing before they should make sure of it. Gracious Heaven!
  • the horrible reflections which crowded upon me that moment! A cold sweat
  • stood upon my brow, and spell-bound with terror, I awaited my fate.
  • Suddenly the silence was broken by the well-remembered tones of Mehevi,
  • and at the kindly accents of his voice, my fears were immediately
  • dissipated. “Tommo, Toby, ki ki!” (eat). He had waited to address us,
  • until he had assured himself that we were both awake, at which he seemed
  • somewhat surprised.
  • “Ki ki! is it?” said Toby, in his gruff tones; “well, cook us first, will
  • you—but what’s this?” he added, as another savage appeared, bearing before
  • him a large trencher of wood, containing some kind of steaming meat, as
  • appeared from the odours it diffused, and which he deposited at the feet
  • of Mehevi. “A baked baby, I dare say! but I will have none of it, never
  • mind what it is. A pretty fool I should make of myself, indeed, waked up
  • here in the middle of the night, stuffing and guzzling, and all to make a
  • fat meal for a parcel of bloody-minded cannibals one of these mornings!
  • No; I see what they are at very plainly, so I am resolved to starve myself
  • into a bunch of bones and gristle, and then, if they serve me up, they are
  • welcome! But, I say, Tommo, you are not going to eat any of that mess
  • there, in the dark, are you? Why, how can you tell what it is?”
  • “By tasting it, to be sure,” said I, masticating a morsel that Kory-Kory
  • had just put in my mouth; “and excellently good it is, too, very much like
  • veal.”
  • “A baked baby, by the soul of Captain Cook!” burst forth Toby, with
  • amazing vehemence. “Veal? why, there never was a calf on the island till
  • you landed. I tell you, you are bolting down mouthfuls from a dead
  • Happar’s carcass, as sure as you live, and no mistake!”
  • Emetics and lukewarm water! What a sensation in the abdominal regions!
  • Sure enough, where could the fiends incarnate have obtained meat? But I
  • resolved to satisfy myself at all hazards; and turning to Mehevi, I soon
  • made the ready chief understand that I wished a light to be brought. When
  • the taper came, I gazed eagerly into the vessel, and recognized the
  • mutilated remains of a juvenile porker! “Puarkee!” exclaimed Kory-Kory,
  • looking complacently at the dish; and from that day to this I have never
  • forgotten that such is the designation of a pig in the Typee lingo.
  • The next morning, after being again abundantly feasted by the hospitable
  • Mehevi, Toby and myself arose to depart. But the chief requested us to
  • postpone our intention. “Abo, abo” (Wait, wait), he said, and accordingly
  • we resumed our seats, while, assisted by the zealous Kory-Kory, he
  • appeared to be engaged in giving directions to a number of the natives
  • outside, who were busily employed in making arrangements, the nature of
  • which we could not comprehend. But we were not left long in our ignorance,
  • for a few moments only had elapsed, when the chief beckoned us to
  • approach, and we perceived that he had been marshalling a kind of guard of
  • honour to escort us on our return to the house of Marheyo.
  • The procession was led off by two venerable-looking savages, each provided
  • with a spear, from the end of which streamed a pennon of milk-white tappa.
  • After them went several youths, bearing aloft calabashes of poee-poee; and
  • followed in their turn by four stalwart fellows, sustaining long bamboos,
  • from the tops of which hung suspended, at least twenty feet from the
  • ground, large baskets of green bread-fruit. Then came a troop of boys,
  • carrying bunches of ripe bananas, and baskets made of woven leaflets of
  • cocoa-nut boughs, filled with the young fruit of the tree, the naked
  • shells, stripped of their husks, peeping forth from the verdant
  • wicker-work that surrounded them. Last of all came a burly islander,
  • holding over his head a wooden trencher, in which lay disposed the
  • remnants of our midnight feast, hidden from view, however, by a covering
  • of bread-fruit leaves.
  • Astonished as I was at this exhibition, I could not avoid smiling at its
  • grotesque appearance, and the associations it naturally called up. Mehevi,
  • it seemed, was bent on replenishing old Marheyo’s larder, fearful,
  • perhaps, that without this precaution his guests might not fare as well as
  • they could desire.
  • As soon as I descended from the pi-pi, the procession formed anew,
  • enclosing us in its centre; where I remained, part of the time carried by
  • Kory-Kory, and occasionally relieving him from his burden by limping along
  • with a spear. When we moved off in this order, the natives struck up a
  • musical recitative, which, with various alternations, they continued until
  • we arrived at the place of our destination.
  • As we proceeded on our way, bands of young girls, darting from the
  • surrounding groves, hung upon our skirts, and accompanied us with shouts
  • of merriment and delight, which almost drowned the deep notes of the
  • recitative. On approaching old Marheyo’s domicile, its inmates rushed out
  • to receive us; and while the gifts of Mehevi were being disposed of, the
  • superannuated warrior did the honours of his mansion with all the warmth
  • of hospitality evinced by an English squire, when he regales his friends
  • at some fine old patrimonial mansion.
  • CHAPTER XII
  • Attempt to procure relief from Nukuheva—Perilous adventure of Toby
  • in the Happar Mountains—Eloquence of Kory-Kory.
  • Amidst these novel scenes a week passed away almost imperceptibly. The
  • natives, actuated by some mysterious impulse, day after day redoubled
  • their attention to us. Their manner towards us was unaccountable. Surely,
  • thought I, they would not act thus if they meant us any harm. But why this
  • excess of deferential kindness, or what equivalent can they imagine us
  • capable of rendering them for it?
  • We were fairly puzzled. But, despite the apprehensions I could not dispel,
  • the horrible character imputed to these Typees appeared to be wholly
  • undeserved.
  • “Why, they are cannibals!” said Toby, on one occasion when I eulogized the
  • tribe.
  • “Granted,” I replied, “but a more humane, gentlemanly, and amiable set of
  • epicures do not probably exist in the Pacific.”
  • But, notwithstanding the kind treatment we received, I was too familiar
  • with the fickle disposition of savages not to feel anxious to withdraw
  • from the valley, and put myself beyond the reach of that fearful death
  • which, under all these smiling appearances, might yet menace us. But here
  • there was an obstacle in the way of doing so. It was idle for me to think
  • of moving from the place until I should have recovered from the severe
  • lameness that afflicted me; indeed my malady began seriously to alarm me;
  • for, despite the herbal remedies of the natives, it continued to grow
  • worse and worse. Their mild applications, though they soothed the pain,
  • did not remove the disorder, and I felt convinced that, without better
  • aid, I might anticipate long and acute suffering.
  • But how was this aid to be procured? From the surgeons of the French
  • fleet, which probably still lay in the bay of Nukuheva, it might easily
  • have been obtained, could I have made my case known to them. But how could
  • that be effected?
  • At last, in the exigency to which I was reduced, I proposed to Toby that
  • he should endeavour to go round to Nukuheva, and if he could not succeed
  • in returning to the valley by water in one of the boats of the squadron,
  • and taking me off, he might at least procure me some proper medicines, and
  • effect his return overland.
  • My companion listened to me in silence, and at first did not appear to
  • relish the idea. The truth was, he felt impatient to escape from the
  • place, and wished to avail himself of our present high favour with the
  • natives to make good our retreat, before we should experience some sudden
  • alterations in their behaviour. As he could not think of leaving me in my
  • helpless condition, he implored me to be of good cheer; assured me that I
  • should soon be better, and enabled in a few days to return with him to
  • Nukuheva.
  • Added to this, he could not bear the idea of again returning to this
  • dangerous place; and as for the expectation of persuading the Frenchmen to
  • detach a boat’s crew for the purpose of rescuing me from the Typees, he
  • looked upon it as idle; and, with arguments that I could not answer, urged
  • the improbability of their provoking the hostilities of the clan by any
  • such measure; especially as, for the purpose of quieting its
  • apprehensions, they had as yet refrained from making any visit to the bay.
  • “And even should they consent,” said Toby, “they would only produce a
  • commotion in the valley, in which we might both be sacrificed by these
  • ferocious islanders.” This was unanswerable; but still I clung to the
  • belief that he might succeed in accomplishing the other part of my plan;
  • and at last I overcame his scruples, and he agreed to make the attempt.
  • As soon as we succeeded in making the natives understand our intention,
  • they broke out into the most vehement opposition to the measure, and, for
  • a while, I almost despaired of obtaining their consent. At the bare
  • thought of one of us leaving them, they manifested the most lively
  • concern. The grief and consternation of Kory-Kory, in particular, was
  • unbounded; he threw himself into a perfect paroxysm of gestures, which
  • were intended to convey to us, not only his abhorrence of Nukuheva and its
  • uncivilized inhabitants, but also his astonishment that, after becoming
  • acquainted with the enlightened Typees, we should evince the least desire
  • to withdraw, even for a time, from their agreeable society.
  • However, I overbore his objections by appealing to my lameness; from which
  • I assured the natives I should speedily recover, if Toby were permitted to
  • obtain the supplies I needed.
  • It was agreed that on the following morning my companion should depart,
  • accompanied by some one or two of the household, who should point out to
  • him an easy route, by which the bay might be reached before sunset.
  • At early dawn of the next day, our habitation was astir. One of the young
  • men mounted into an adjoining cocoa-nut tree, and threw down a number of
  • the young fruit, which old Marheyo quickly stripped of the green husks,
  • and strung together upon a short pole. These were intended to refresh Toby
  • on his route.
  • The preparations being completed, with no little emotion I bade my
  • companion adieu. He promised to return in three days at farthest; and,
  • bidding me keep up my spirits in the interval, turned around the corner of
  • the pi-pi, and, under the guidance of the venerable Marheyo, was soon out
  • of sight. His departure oppressed me with melancholy, and, re-entering the
  • dwelling, I threw myself almost in despair upon the matting of the floor.
  • In two hours’ time the old warrior returned, and gave me to understand,
  • that after accompanying my companion a little distance, and showing him
  • the route, he had left him journeying on his way.
  • It was about noon of this same day, a season which these people are wont
  • to pass in sleep, that I lay in the house, surrounded by its slumbering
  • inmates, and painfully affected by the strange silence which prevailed.
  • All at once I thought I heard a faint shout, as if proceeding from some
  • persons in the depth of the grove which extended in front of our
  • habitation.
  • The sounds grew louder and nearer, and gradually the whole valley rang
  • with wild outcries. The sleepers around me started to their feet in alarm,
  • and hurried outside to discover the cause of the commotion. Kory-Kory, who
  • had been the first to spring up, soon returned almost breathless, and
  • nearly frantic with the excitement under which he seemed to be labouring.
  • All that I could understand from him was, that some accident had happened
  • to Toby. Apprehensive of some dreadful calamity, I rushed out of the
  • house, and caught sight of a tumultuous crowd, who, with shrieks and
  • lamentations, were just emerging from the grove, bearing in their arms
  • some object, the sight of which produced all this transport of sorrow. As
  • they drew near, the men redoubled their cries, while the girls, tossing
  • their bare arms in the air, exclaimed plaintively, “Awha! awha! Toby
  • muckee moee!”—Alas! alas! Toby is killed!
  • In a moment the crowd opened, and disclosed the apparently lifeless body
  • of my companion borne between two men, the head hanging heavily against
  • the breast of the foremost. The whole face, neck, and bosom were covered
  • with blood, which still trickled slowly from a wound behind the temple. In
  • the midst of the greatest uproar and confusion, the body was carried into
  • the house and laid on a mat. Waving the natives off to give room and air,
  • I bent eagerly over Toby, and, laying my hand upon the breast, ascertained
  • that the heart still beat. Overjoyed at this, I seized a calabash of
  • water, and dashed its contents upon his face, then, wiping away the blood,
  • anxiously examined the wound. It was about three inches long, and, on
  • removing the clotted hair from about it, showed the skull laid completely
  • bare. Immediately with my knife I cut away the heavy locks, and bathed the
  • part repeatedly in water.
  • In a few moments Toby revived, and opening his eyes for a second, closed
  • them again, without speaking. Kory-Kory, who had been kneeling beside me,
  • now chafed his limbs gently with the palms of his hands, while a young
  • girl at his head kept fanning him, and I still continued to moisten his
  • lips and brow. Soon my poor comrade showed signs of animation, and I
  • succeeded in making him swallow from a cocoa-nut shell a few mouthfuls of
  • water.
  • [Illustration: THE BODY WAS CARRIED INTO THE HOUSE AND LAID ON A MAT]
  • Old Tinor now appeared, holding in her hand some simples she had gathered,
  • the juice of which she by signs besought me to squeeze into the wound.
  • Having done so, I thought it best to leave Toby undisturbed until he
  • should have had time to rally his faculties. Several times he opened his
  • lips, but, fearful for his safety, I enjoined silence. In the course of
  • two or three hours however, he sat up, and was sufficiently recovered to
  • tell me what had occurred.
  • “After leaving the house with Marheyo,” said Toby, “we struck across the
  • valley, and ascended the opposite heights. Just beyond them, my guide
  • informed me, lay the valley of Happar, while along their summits, and
  • skirting the head of the vale, was my route to Nukuheva. After mounting a
  • little way up the elevation my guide paused, and gave me to understand
  • that he could not accompany me any farther, and by various signs intimated
  • that he was afraid to approach any nearer the territories of the enemies
  • of his tribe. He, however, pointed out my path, which now lay clearly
  • before me, and, bidding me farewell, hastily descended the mountain.
  • “Quite elated at being so near the Happars, I pushed up the acclivity, and
  • soon gained its summit. It tapered up to a sharp ridge, from whence I
  • beheld both the hostile valleys. Here I sat down and rested for a moment,
  • refreshing myself with my cocoa-nuts. I was soon again pursuing my way
  • along the height, when suddenly I saw three of the islanders, who must
  • have just come out of Happar valley, standing in the path ahead of me.
  • They were each armed with a heavy spear, and one, from his appearance, I
  • took to be a chief. They sung out something, I could not understand what,
  • and beckoned me to come on.
  • “Without the least hesitation I advanced towards them, and had approached
  • within about a yard of the foremost, when, pointing angrily into the Typee
  • valley, and uttering some savage exclamation, he wheeled round his weapon
  • like lightning, and struck me in a moment to the ground. The blow
  • inflicted this wound, and took away my senses. As soon as I came to
  • myself, I perceived the three islanders standing a little distance off,
  • and apparently engaged in some violent altercation respecting me.
  • “My first impulse was to run for it; but, in endeavouring to rise, I fell
  • back, and rolled down a little grassy precipice. The shock seemed to rally
  • my faculties; so, starting to my feet, I fled down the path I had just
  • ascended. I had no need to look behind me, for, from the yells I heard, I
  • knew that my enemies were in full pursuit. Urged on by their fearful
  • outcries, and heedless of the injury I had received—though the blood
  • flowing from the wound trickled over into my eyes and almost blinded me—I
  • rushed down the mountain side with the speed of the wind. In a short time
  • I had descended nearly a third of the distance, and the savages had ceased
  • their cries, when suddenly a terrific howl burst upon my ear, and at the
  • same moment a heavy javelin darted past me as I fled, and stuck quivering
  • in a tree close to me. Another yell followed, and a second spear and a
  • third shot through the air within a few feet of my body, both of them
  • piercing the ground obliquely in advance of me. The fellows gave a roar of
  • rage and disappointment; but they were afraid, I suppose, of coming down
  • farther into the Typee valley, and so abandoned the chase. I saw them
  • recover their weapons and turn back; and I continued my descent as fast as
  • I could.
  • “What could have caused this ferocious attack on the part of these Happars
  • I could not imagine, unless it were that they had seen me ascending the
  • mountain with Marheyo, and that the mere fact of coming from the Typee
  • valley was sufficient to provoke them.
  • “As long as I was in danger I scarcely felt the wound I had received; but
  • when the chase was over I began to suffer from it. I had lost my hat in
  • the flight, and the sun scorched my bare head. I felt faint and giddy;
  • but, fearful of falling to the ground beyond the reach of assistance, I
  • staggered on as well as I could, and at last gained the level of the
  • valley, and then down I sunk; and I knew nothing more until I found myself
  • lying upon these mats, and you stooping over me with the calabash of
  • water.”
  • Such was Toby’s account of this sad affair. I afterwards learned that
  • fortunately he had fallen close to a spot where the natives go for fuel. A
  • party of them caught sight of him as he fell, and, sounding the alarm, had
  • lifted him up; and after ineffectually endeavouring to restore him at the
  • brook, had hurried forward with him to the house.
  • This incident threw a dark cloud over our prospects. It reminded us that
  • we were hemmed in by hostile tribes, whose territories we could not hope
  • to pass, on our route to Nukuheva, without encountering the effects of
  • their savage resentment. There appeared to be no avenue opened to our
  • escape but the sea, which washed the lower extremity of the vale.
  • Our Typee friends availed themselves of the recent disaster of Toby to
  • exhort us to a due appreciation of the blessings we enjoyed among them;
  • contrasting their own generous reception of us with the animosity of their
  • neighbours. They likewise dwelt upon the cannibal propensities of the
  • Happars, a subject which they were perfectly aware could not fail to alarm
  • us; while at the same time they earnestly disclaimed all participation in
  • so horrid a custom. Nor did they omit to call upon us to admire the
  • natural loveliness of their own abode, and the lavish abundance with which
  • it produced all manner of luxuriant fruits; exalting it in this particular
  • above any of the surrounding valleys.
  • Kory-Kory seemed to experience so heartfelt a desire to infuse into our
  • minds proper views on these subjects, that, assisted in his endeavours by
  • the little knowledge of the language we had acquired, he actually made us
  • comprehend a considerable part of what he said. To facilitate our correct
  • apprehension of his meaning, he at first condensed his ideas into the
  • smallest possible compass.
  • “Happar keekeeno nuee,” he exclaimed; “nuee, nuee, ki ki kannaka!—ah! owle
  • motarkee!” which signifies, “Terrible fellows those Happars!—devour an
  • amazing quantity of men!—ah, shocking bad!” Thus far he explained himself
  • by a variety of gestures, during the performance of which he would dart
  • out of the house, and point abhorrently towards the Happar valley; running
  • in to us again with the rapidity that showed he was fearful we would lose
  • one part of his meaning before he could complete the other; and continuing
  • his illustrations by seizing the fleshy part of my arm in his teeth,
  • intimating, by the operation, that the people who lived over in that
  • direction would like nothing better than to treat me in that manner.
  • Having assured himself that we were fully enlightened on this point, he
  • proceeded to another branch of the subject. “Ah! Typee me! arkee!—nuee,
  • nuee mioree—nuee, nuee wai nuee, nuee poee poee—nuee, nuee kokoo—ah! nuee,
  • nuee kiki—ah! nuee, nuee, nuee!” Which, liberally interpreted as before,
  • would imply, “Ah, Typee! isn’t it a fine place though!—no danger of
  • starving here, I tell you!—plenty of bread-fruit—plenty of water—plenty of
  • pudding—ah! plenty of everything, ah! heaps, heaps, heaps!” All this was
  • accompanied by a running commentary of signs and gestures which it was
  • impossible not to comprehend.
  • As he continued his harangue, however, Kory-Kory, in emulation of our more
  • polished orators, began to launch out rather diffusely into other branches
  • of his subject, enlarging probably upon the moral reflections it
  • suggested; and proceeded in such a strain of unintelligible and stunning
  • gibberish, that he actually gave me the headache for the rest of the day.
  • CHAPTER XIII
  • A great event happens in the valley—The island telegraph—Something
  • befalls Toby—Fayaway displays a tender heart—Melancholy
  • reflections—Mysterious conduct of the islanders—Devotion of
  • Kory-Kory—A rural couch—A luxury—Kory-Kory strikes a light _à la_
  • Typee.
  • In the course of a few days Toby had recovered from the effects of his
  • adventure with the Happar warriors; the wound on his head rapidly healing
  • under the vegetable treatment of the good Tinor. Less fortunate than my
  • companion, however, I still continued to languish under a complaint, the
  • origin and nature of which was still a mystery. Cut off as I was from all
  • intercourse with the civilized world, and feeling the inefficacy of
  • anything the natives could do to relieve me; knowing, too, that so long as
  • I remained in my present condition it would be impossible for me to leave
  • the valley, whatever opportunity might present itself; and apprehensive
  • that ere long we might be exposed to some caprice on the part of the
  • islanders, I now gave up all hopes of recovery, and became a prey to the
  • most gloomy thoughts. A deep dejection fell upon me, which neither the
  • friendly remonstrances of my companion, the devoted attentions of
  • Kory-Kory, nor all the soothing influences of Fayaway, could remove.
  • One morning, as I lay on the mats in the house plunged in melancholy
  • reverie, and regardless of everything around me, Toby, who had left me
  • about an hour, returned in haste, and with great glee told me to cheer up
  • and be of good heart, for he believed, from what was going on among the
  • natives, that there were boats approaching the bay.
  • These tidings operated upon me like magic. The hour of our deliverance was
  • at hand, and, starting up, I was soon convinced that something unusual was
  • about to occur. The word “botee! botee!” was vociferated in all
  • directions; and shouts were heard in the distance, at first feebly and
  • faintly, but growing louder and nearer at each successive repetition,
  • until they were caught up by a fellow in a cocoa-nut tree a few yards off,
  • who, sounding them in turn, they were reiterated from a neighbouring
  • grove, and so died away gradually from point to point, as the intelligence
  • penetrated into the farthest recesses of the valley. This was the vocal
  • telegraph of the islanders; by means of which, condensed items of
  • information could be carried in a very few minutes from the sea to their
  • remotest habitation, a distance of at least eight or nine miles. On the
  • present occasion it was in active operation, one piece of information
  • following another with inconceivable rapidity.
  • The greatest commotion now appeared to prevail. At every fresh item of
  • intelligence the natives betrayed the liveliest interest, and redoubled
  • the energy with which they employed themselves in collecting fruit to sell
  • to the expected visitors. Some were tearing off the husks from cocoa-nuts;
  • some, perched in the trees, were throwing down bread-fruit to their
  • companions, who gathered them in heaps as they fell; while others were
  • plying their fingers rapidly in weaving leafen baskets in which to carry
  • the fruit.
  • There were other matters, too, going on at the same time. Here you would
  • see a stout warrior polishing his spear with a bit of old tappa, or
  • adjusting the folds of the girdle about his waist; and there you might
  • descry a young damsel decorating herself with flowers, as if having in her
  • eye some maidenly conquest; while, as in all cases of hurry and confusion
  • in every part of the world, a number of individuals kept hurrying to and
  • fro with amazing vigour and perseverance, doing nothing themselves, and
  • hindering others.
  • Never before had we seen the islanders in such a state of bustle and
  • excitement; and the scene furnished abundant evidence of the fact—that it
  • was only at long intervals any such events occur.
  • When I thought of the length of time that might intervene before a similar
  • chance of escape would be presented, I bitterly lamented that I had not
  • the power of availing myself effectually of the present opportunity.
  • From all that we could gather, it appeared that the natives were fearful
  • of arriving too late upon the beach, unless they made extraordinary
  • exertions. Sick and lame as I was, I would have started with Toby at once,
  • had not Kory-Kory not only refused to carry me, but manifested the most
  • invincible repugnance to our leaving the neighbourhood of the house. The
  • rest of the savages were equally opposed to our wishes, and seemed grieved
  • and astonished at the earnestness of my solicitations. I clearly perceived
  • that, while my attendant avoided all appearance of constraining my
  • movements, he was nevertheless determined to thwart my wishes. He seemed
  • to me on this particular occasion, as well as often afterwards, to be
  • executing the orders of some other person with regard to me, though at the
  • same time feeling towards me the most lively affection.
  • Toby, who had made up his mind to accompany the islanders if possible as
  • soon as they were in readiness to depart, and who for that reason had
  • refrained from showing the same anxiety that I had done, now represented
  • to me that it was idle for me to entertain the hope of reaching the beach
  • in time to profit by any opportunity that might then be presented.
  • “Do you not see,” said he, “the savages themselves are fearful of being
  • too late, and I should hurry forward myself at once, did I not think that,
  • if I showed too much eagerness, I should destroy all our hopes of reaping
  • any benefit from this fortunate event. If you will only endeavour to
  • appear tranquil or unconcerned, you will quiet their suspicions, and I
  • have no doubt they will then let me go with them to the beach, supposing
  • that I merely go out of curiosity. Should I succeed in getting down to the
  • boats, I will make known the condition in which I have left you, and
  • measures may then be taken to secure our escape.”
  • In the expediency of this I could not but acquiesce; and as the natives
  • had now completed their preparations, I watched with the liveliest
  • interest the reception that Toby’s application might meet with. As soon as
  • they understood from my companion that I intended to remain, they appeared
  • to make no objection to this proposition, and even hailed it with
  • pleasure. Their singular conduct on this occasion not a little puzzled me
  • at the time, and imparted to subsequent events an additional mystery.
  • The islanders were now to be seen hurrying along the path which led to the
  • sea. I shook Toby warmly by the hand, and gave him my Payta hat to shield
  • his wounded head from the sun, as he had lost his own. He cordially
  • returned the pressure of my hand, and, solemnly promising to return as
  • soon as the boats should leave the shore, sprang from my side, and the
  • next minute disappeared in a turn of the grove.
  • In spite of the unpleasant reflections that crowded upon my mind, I could
  • not but be entertained by the novel and animated sight which now met my
  • view. One after another, the natives crowded along the narrow path, laden
  • with every variety of fruit. Here, you might have seen one, who, after
  • ineffectually endeavouring to persuade a surly porker to be conducted in
  • leading-strings, was obliged at last to seize the perverse animal in his
  • arms, and carry him struggling again his naked breast, and squealing
  • without intermission. There went two, who at a little distance might have
  • been taken for the Hebrew spies, on their return to Moses with the goodly
  • bunch of grapes. One trotted before the other at a distance of a couple of
  • yards, while between them, from a pole resting on their shoulders, was
  • suspended a huge cluster of bananas, which swayed to and fro with the
  • rocking gait at which they proceeded. Here ran another, perspiring with
  • his exertions, and bearing before him a quantity of cocoa-nuts, who,
  • fearful of being too late, heeded not the fruit that dropped from his
  • basket, and appeared solely intent upon reaching his destination, careless
  • how many of his cocoa-nuts kept company with him.
  • In a short time the last straggler was seen hurrying on his way, and the
  • faint shouts of those in advance died insensibly upon the ear. Our part of
  • the valley now appeared nearly deserted by its inhabitants, Kory-Kory, his
  • aged father, and a few decrepid old people being all that were left.
  • Towards sunset, the islanders in small parties began to return from the
  • beach, and among them, as they drew near to the house, I sought to descry
  • the form of my companion. But one after another they passed the dwelling,
  • and I caught no glimpse of him. Supposing, however, that he would soon
  • appear with some of the members of the household, I quieted my
  • apprehensions, and waited patiently to see him advancing, in company with
  • the beautiful Fayaway. At last I perceived Tinor coming forward, followed
  • by the girls and young men who usually resided in the house of Marheyo;
  • but with them came not my comrade, and, filled with a thousand alarms, I
  • eagerly sought to discover the cause of his delay.
  • My earnest questions appeared to embarrass the natives greatly. All their
  • accounts were contradictory: one giving me to understand that Toby would
  • be with me in a very short time; another, that he did not know where he
  • was; while a third, violently inveighing against him, assured me that he
  • had stolen away, and would never come back. It appeared to me, at the
  • time, that in making these various statements they endeavoured to conceal
  • from me some terrible disaster, lest the knowledge of it should overpower
  • me.
  • Fearful lest some fatal calamity had overtaken him, I sought out young
  • Fayaway, and endeavoured to learn from her, if possible, the truth.
  • This gentle being had early attracted my regard, not only from her
  • extraordinary beauty, but from the attractive cast of her countenance,
  • singularly expressive of intelligence and humanity. Of all the natives,
  • she alone seemed to appreciate the effect which the peculiarity of the
  • circumstances in which we were placed had produced upon the minds of my
  • companion and myself. In addressing me—especially when I lay reclining
  • upon the mats suffering from pain—there was a tenderness in her manner
  • which it was impossible to misunderstand or resist. Whenever she entered
  • the house, the expression of her face indicated the liveliest sympathy for
  • me; and moving towards the place where I lay, with one arm slightly
  • elevated in a gesture of pity, and her large glistening eyes gazing
  • intently into mine, she would murmur plaintively, “Awha! awha! Tommo,” and
  • seat herself mournfully beside me.
  • Her manner convinced me that she deeply compassionated my situation, as
  • being removed from my country and friends, and placed beyond the reach of
  • all relief. Indeed, at times I was almost led to believe that her mind was
  • swayed by gentle impulses hardly to be anticipated from one in her
  • condition; that she appeared to be conscious there were ties rudely
  • severed, which had once bound us to our homes; that there were sisters and
  • brothers anxiously looking forward to our return, who were perhaps never
  • more to behold us.
  • In this amiable light did Fayaway appear in my eyes; and, reposing full
  • confidence in her candour and intelligence, I now had recourse to her, in
  • the midst of my alarm with regard to my companion.
  • My questions evidently distressed her. She looked round from one to
  • another of the bystanders, as if hardly knowing what answer to give me. At
  • last, yielding to my importunities, she overcame her scruples, and gave me
  • to understand that Toby had gone away with the boats which had visited the
  • bay, but had promised to return at the expiration of three days. At first
  • I accused him of perfidiously deserting me; but as I grew more composed, I
  • upbraided myself for imputing so cowardly an action to him, and
  • tranquillized myself with the belief that he had availed himself of the
  • opportunity to go round to Nukuheva, in order to make some arrangement by
  • which I could be removed from the valley. At any rate, thought I, he will
  • return with the medicines I require, and then, as soon as I recover, there
  • will be no difficulty in the way of our departure.
  • Consoling myself with these reflections, I lay down that night in a
  • happier frame of mind than I had done for some time. The next day passed
  • without any allusion to Toby on the part of the natives, who seemed
  • desirous of avoiding all reference to the subject. This raised some
  • apprehensions in my breast; but, when night came, I congratulated myself
  • that the second day had now gone by, and that on the morrow Toby would
  • again be with me. But the morrow came and went, and my companion did not
  • appear. Ah! thought I, he reckons three days from the morning of his
  • departure—to-morrow he will arrive. But that weary day also closed upon me
  • without his return. Even yet I would not despair. I thought that something
  • detained him—that he was waiting for the sailing of a boat at Nukuheva,
  • and that in a day or two, at farthest, I should see him again. But day
  • after day of renewed disappointment passed by; at last hope deserted me,
  • and I fell a victim to despair.
  • Yes, thought I, gloomily, he has secured his own escape, and cares not
  • what calamity may befall his unfortunate comrade. Fool that I was, to
  • suppose that any one would willingly encounter the perils of this valley,
  • after having once got beyond its limits! He has gone, and has left me to
  • combat alone all the dangers by which I am surrounded. Thus would I
  • sometimes seek to derive a desperate consolation from dwelling upon the
  • perfidy of Toby; whilst, at other times, I sunk under the bitter remorse
  • which I felt at having, by my own imprudence, brought upon myself the fate
  • which I was sure awaited me.
  • At other times I thought that perhaps, after all, these treacherous
  • savages had made away with him, and thence the confusion into which they
  • were thrown by my questions, and their contradictory answers; or he might
  • be a captive in some other part of the valley; or, more dreadful still,
  • might have met with that fate at which my very soul shuddered. But all
  • these speculations were vain; no tidings of Toby ever reached me—he had
  • gone never to return.
  • The conduct of the islanders appeared inexplicable. All reference to my
  • lost comrade was carefully evaded, and if at any time they were forced to
  • make some reply to my frequent inquiries on the subject, they would
  • uniformly denounce him as an ungrateful runaway, who had deserted his
  • friend, and taken himself off to that vile and detestable place Nukuheva.
  • But whatever might have been his fate, now that he was gone the natives
  • multiplied their acts of kindness and attention towards myself, treating
  • me with a degree of deference which could hardly have been surpassed had I
  • been some celestial visitant. Kory-Kory never for one moment left my side,
  • unless it were to execute my wishes. The faithful fellow, twice every day,
  • in the cool of the morning and in the evening, insisted upon carrying me
  • to the stream, and bathing me in its refreshing water.
  • Frequently, in the afternoon, he would carry me to a particular part of
  • the stream, where the beauty of the scene produced a soothing influence
  • upon my mind. At this place the waters flowed between grassy banks,
  • planted with enormous bread-fruit trees, whose vast branches, interlacing
  • overhead, formed a leafy canopy; near the stream were several smooth black
  • rocks. One of these, projecting several feet above the surface of the
  • water, had upon its summit a shallow cavity, which, filled with
  • freshly-gathered leaves, formed a delightful couch.
  • Here I often laid for hours, covered with a gauze-like veil of tappa,
  • while Fayaway, seated beside me, and holding in her hand a fan woven from
  • the leaflets of a young cocoa-nut bough, brushed aside the insects that
  • occasionally lighted on my face, and Kory-Kory, with a view of chasing
  • away my melancholy, performed a thousand antics in the water before us.
  • As my eye wandered along this romantic stream, it would fall upon the
  • half-immersed figure of a beautiful girl, standing in the transparent
  • water, and catching in a little net a species of diminutive shell-fish, of
  • which these people are extravagantly fond. Sometimes a chattering group
  • would be seated upon the edge of a low rock in the midst of the brook,
  • busily engaged in thinning and polishing the shells of cocoa-nuts, by
  • rubbing them briskly with a small stone in the water, an operation which
  • soon converts them into a light and elegant drinking-vessel, somewhat
  • resembling goblets made of tortoise-shell.
  • But the tranquillizing influences of beautiful scenery, and the exhibition
  • of human life under so novel and charming an aspect, were not my only
  • sources of consolation.
  • Every evening the girls of the house gathered about me on the mats, and,
  • after chasing away Kory-Kory from my side—who, nevertheless, retired only
  • to a little distance, and watched their proceedings with the most jealous
  • attention—would anoint my body with a fragrant oil, squeezed from a yellow
  • root, previously pounded between a couple of stones, and which in their
  • language is denominated “aka.” I used to hail with delight the daily
  • recurrence of this luxurious operation, in which I forgot all my troubles,
  • and buried for the time every feeling of sorrow.
  • Sometimes, in the cool of the evening, my devoted servitor would lead me
  • out upon the pi-pi in front of the house, and, seating me near its edge,
  • protect my body from the annoyance of the insects which occasionally
  • hovered in the air, by wrapping me round with a large roll of tappa. He
  • then bustled about, and employed himself at least twenty minutes in
  • adjusting everything to secure my personal comfort.
  • Having perfected his arrangements, he would get my pipe, and, lighting it,
  • would hand it to me. Often he was obliged to strike a light for the
  • occasion; and as the mode he adopted was entirely different from what I
  • had ever seen or heard of before, I will describe it.
  • A straight, dry, and partly-decayed stick of the Habiscus, about six feet
  • in length, and half as many inches in diameter, with a smaller bit of
  • wood, not more than a foot long, and scarcely an inch wide, is as
  • invariably to be met with in every house in Typee, as a box of lucifer
  • matches in the corner of a kitchen-cupboard at home.
  • The islander, placing the larger stick obliquely against some object, with
  • one end elevated at an angle of forty-five degrees, mounts astride of it,
  • like an urchin about to gallop off upon a cane, and then, grasping the
  • smaller one firmly in both hands, he rubs its pointed end slowly up and
  • down the extent of a few inches on the principal stick, until at last he
  • makes a narrow groove in the wood, with an abrupt termination at the point
  • farthest from him, where all the dusty particles which the friction
  • creates are accumulated in a little heap.
  • At first Kory-Kory goes to work quite leisurely, but gradually quickens
  • his pace, and, waxing warm in the employment, drives the stick furiously
  • along the smoking channel, plying his hands to and fro with amazing
  • rapidity, the perspiration starting from every pore. As he approaches the
  • climax of his effort, he pants and gasps for breath, and his eyes almost
  • start from their sockets with the violence of his exertions. This is the
  • critical stage of the operation; all his previous labours are vain if he
  • cannot sustain the rapidity of the movement until the reluctant spark is
  • produced. Suddenly he stops, becomes perfectly motionless. His hands still
  • retain their hold of the smaller stick, which is pressed convulsively
  • against the farther end of the channel, among the fine powder there
  • accumulated, as if he had just pierced through and through some little
  • viper that was wriggling and struggling to escape from his clutches. The
  • next moment a delicate wreath of smoke curls spirally into the air, the
  • heap of dusty particles glows with fire, and Kory-Kory, almost breathless,
  • dismounts from his steed.
  • This operation appeared to me to be the most laborious species of work
  • performed in Typee; and had I possessed a sufficient intimacy with the
  • language to have conveyed my ideas upon the subject, I should certainly
  • have suggested to the most influential of the natives the expediency of
  • establishing in a college of vestals, to be centrally located in the
  • valley, for the purpose of keeping alive the indispensable article of
  • fire, so as to supersede the necessity of such a vast outlay of strength
  • and good temper as were usually squandered on these occasions. There
  • might, however, be special difficulties in carrying this plan into
  • execution.
  • What a striking evidence does this operation furnish of the wide
  • difference between the extreme of savage and civilized life! A gentleman
  • of Typee can bring up a numerous family of children, and give them all a
  • highly respectable cannibal education, with infinitely less toil and
  • anxiety than he expends in the simple process of striking a light; whilst
  • a poor European artisan, who through the instrumentality of a lucifer
  • performs the same operation in one second, is put to his wit’s end to
  • provide for his starving offspring that food, which the children of a
  • Polynesian father, without troubling their parents, pluck from the
  • branches of every tree around them.
  • CHAPTER XIV
  • Kindness of Marheyo and the rest of the islanders—A full
  • description of the bread-fruit tree—Different modes of preparing
  • the fruit.
  • All the inhabitants of the valley treated me with great kindness; but as
  • to the household of Marheyo, with whom I was now permanently domiciled,
  • nothing could surpass their efforts to minister to my comfort. To the
  • gratification of my palate they paid the most unwearied attention. They
  • continually invited me to partake of food, and when after eating heartily
  • I declined the viands they continued to offer me, they seemed to think
  • that my appetite stood in need of some piquant stimulant to excite its
  • activity.
  • In pursuance of this idea, old Marheyo himself would hie him away to the
  • sea-shore by the break of day, for the purpose of collecting various
  • species of rare seaweed; some of which, among these people, are considered
  • a great luxury. After a whole day spent in this employment, he would
  • return about nightfall with several cocoa-nut shells filled with different
  • descriptions of kelp. In preparing these for use, he manifested all the
  • ostentation of a professed cook, although the chief mystery of the affair
  • appeared to consist in pouring water in judicious quantities upon the
  • slimy contents of his cocoa-nut shells.
  • The first time he submitted one of these saline salads to my critical
  • attention, I naturally thought that anything collected at such pains must
  • possess peculiar merits; but one mouthful was a complete dose; and great
  • was the consternation of the old warrior at the rapidity with which I
  • ejected his epicurean treat.
  • How true it is, that the rarity of any particular article enhances its
  • value amazingly. In some part of the valley—I know not where, but probably
  • in the neighbourhood of the sea—the girls were sometimes in the habit of
  • procuring small quantities of salt, a thimble-full or so being the result
  • of the united labours of a party of five or six employed for the greater
  • part of the day. This precious commodity they brought to the house,
  • enveloped in multitudinous folds of leaves; and as a special mark of the
  • esteem in which they held me, would spread an immense leaf on the ground,
  • and dropping one by one a few minute particles of the salt upon it, invite
  • me to taste them.
  • From the extravagant value placed upon the article, I verily believe, that
  • with a bushel of common Liverpool salt, all the real estate in Typee might
  • have been purchased. With a small pinch of it in one hand, and a quarter
  • section of a bread-fruit in the other, the greatest chief in the valley
  • would have laughed at all the luxuries of a Parisian table.
  • The celebrity of the bread-fruit tree, and the conspicuous place it
  • occupies in a Typee bill of fare, induces me to give at some length a
  • general description of the tree, and the various modes in which the fruit
  • is prepared.
  • The bread-fruit tree, in its glorious prime, is a grand and towering
  • object, forming the same feature in a Marquesan landscape that the
  • patriarchal elm does in New England scenery. The latter tree it not a
  • little resembles in height, in the wide spread of its stalwart branches,
  • and in its venerable and imposing aspect.
  • The leaves of the bread-fruit are of great size, and their edges are cut
  • and scolloped as fantastically as those of a lady’s lace collar. As they
  • annually tend towards decay, they almost rival, in the brilliant variety
  • of their gradually changing hues, the fleeting shades of the expiring
  • dolphin. The autumnal tints of our American forests, glorious as they are,
  • sink into nothing in comparison with this tree.
  • The leaf, in one particular stage, when nearly all the prismatic colours
  • are blended on its surface, is often converted by the natives into a
  • superb and striking head-dress. The principal fibre traversing its length
  • being split open a convenient distance, and the elastic sides of the
  • aperture pressed apart, the head is inserted between them, the leaf
  • drooping on one side, with its forward half turned jauntily up on the
  • brows, and the remaining part spreading laterally behind the ears.
  • The fruit somewhat resembles in magnitude and general appearance one of
  • our citron melons of ordinary size; but, unlike the citron, it has no
  • sectional lines drawn along the outside. Its surface is dotted all over
  • with little conical prominences, looking not unlike the knobs on an
  • antiquated church door. The rind is perhaps an eighth of an inch in
  • thickness; and denuded of this, at the time when it is in the greatest
  • perfection, the fruit presents a beautiful globe of white pulp, the whole
  • of which may be eaten, with the exception of a slender core, which is
  • easily removed.
  • The bread-fruit, however, is never used, and is indeed altogether unfit to
  • be eaten, until submitted in one form or other to the action of fire.
  • The most simple manner in which this operation is performed, and, I think,
  • the best, consists in placing any number of the freshly-plucked fruit,
  • when in a particular state of greenness, among the embers of a fire, in
  • the same way that you would roast a potato. After a lapse of ten or
  • fifteen minutes, the green rind embrowns and cracks, showing through the
  • fissures in its sides the milk-white interior. As soon as it cools the
  • rind drops off, and you then have the soft round pulp in its purest and
  • most delicious state. Thus eaten, it has a mild and pleasing flavour.
  • Sometimes after having been roasted in the fire, the natives snatch it
  • briskly from the embers, and permitting it to slip out of the yielding
  • rind into a vessel of cold water, stir up the mixture, which they call
  • “bo-a-sho.” I never could endure this compound, and indeed the preparation
  • is not greatly in vogue among the more polite Typees.
  • There is one form, however, in which the fruit is occasionally served,
  • that renders it a dish fit for a king. As soon as it is taken from the
  • fire the exterior is removed, the core extracted, and the remaining part
  • is placed in a sort of shallow stone mortar, and briskly worked with a
  • pestle of the same substance. While one person is performing this
  • operation, another takes a ripe cocoa-nut, and breaking it in half, which
  • they also do very cleverly, proceeds to grate the juicy meat into fine
  • particles. This is done by means of a piece of mother-of-pearl shell,
  • lashed firmly to the extreme end of a heavy stick, with its straight side
  • accurately notched like a saw. The stick is sometimes a grotesquely-formed
  • limb of a tree, with three or four branches twisting from its body like so
  • many shapeless legs, and sustaining it two or three feet from the ground.
  • The native, first placing a calabash beneath the nose, as it were, of his
  • curious-looking log-steed, for the purpose of receiving the grated
  • fragments as they fall, mounts astride of it as if it were a hobby-horse,
  • and twirling the inside of one of his hemispheres of cocoa-nut around the
  • sharp teeth of the mother-of-pearl shell, the pure white meat falls in
  • snowy showers into the receptacle provided. Having obtained a quantity
  • sufficient for his purpose, he places it in a bag made of the net-like
  • fibrous substance attached to all cocoa-nut trees, and compressing it over
  • the bread-fruit, which being now sufficiently pounded, is put into a
  • wooden bowl—extracts a thick creamy milk. The delicious liquid soon
  • bubbles round the fruit, and leaves it at last just peeping above its
  • surface.
  • This preparation is called “kokoo,” and a most lucious preparation it is.
  • The hobby-horse and the pestle and mortar were in great requisition during
  • the time I remained in the house of Marheyo, and Kory-Kory had frequent
  • occasion to show his skill in their use.
  • But the great staple articles of food into which the bread-fruit is
  • converted by these natives are known respectively by the names of Amar and
  • Poee-Poee.
  • At a certain season of the year, when the fruit of the hundred groves of
  • the valley has reached its maturity, and hangs in golden spheres from
  • every branch, the islanders assemble in harvest groups, and garner in the
  • abundance which surrounds them. The trees are stripped of their nodding
  • burdens, which, easily freed from the rind and core, are gathered together
  • in capacious wooden vessels, where the pulpy fruit is soon worked by a
  • stone pestle, vigorously applied, into a blended mass of a doughy
  • consistency called by the natives “Tutao.” This is then divided into
  • separate parcels, which, after being made up into stout packages,
  • enveloped in successive folds of leaves, and bound round with thongs of
  • bark, are stored away in large receptacles hollowed in the earth, from
  • whence they are drawn as occasion may require.
  • In this condition the Tutao sometimes remains for years, and even is
  • thought to improve by age. Before it is fit to be eaten, however, it has
  • to undergo an additional process. A primitive oven is scooped in the
  • ground, and its bottom being loosely covered with stones, a large fire is
  • kindled within it. As soon as the requisite degree of heat is attained,
  • the embers are removed, and the surface of the stones being covered with
  • thick layers of leaves, one of the large packages of Tutao is deposited
  • upon them, and overspread with another layer of leaves. The whole is then
  • quickly heaped up with earth, and forms a sloping mound.
  • The Tutao thus baked is called “Amar”; the action of the oven having
  • converted it into an amber-coloured caky substance, a little tart, but not
  • at all disagreeable to the taste.
  • By another and final process the “Amar” is changed into “Poee-Poee.” This
  • transition is rapidly effected. The amar is placed in a vessel, and mixed
  • with water until it gains a proper pudding-like consistency, when, without
  • further preparation, it is in readiness for use. This is the form in which
  • the “Tutao” is generally consumed. The singular mode of eating it I have
  • already described.
  • Were it not that the bread-fruit is thus capable of being preserved for a
  • length of time, the natives might be reduced to a state of starvation;
  • for, owing to some unknown cause, the trees sometimes fail to bear fruit;
  • and on such occasions the islanders chiefly depend upon the supplies they
  • have been enabled to store away.
  • This stately tree, which is rarely met with upon the Sandwich Islands, and
  • then only of a very inferior quality, and at Tahiti does not abound to a
  • degree that renders its fruit the principal article of food, attains its
  • greatest excellence in the genial climate of the Marquesan group, where it
  • grows to an enormous magnitude, and flourishes in the utmost abundance.
  • CHAPTER XV
  • Melancholy condition—Occurrence at the Ti—Anecdote of
  • Marheyo—Shaving the head of a warrior.
  • In looking back to this period, and calling to remembrance the numberless
  • proofs of kindness and respect which I received from the natives of the
  • valley, I can scarcely understand how it was that, in the midst of so many
  • consolatory circumstances, my mind should still have been consumed by the
  • most dismal forebodings, and have remained a prey to the profoundest
  • melancholy. It is true that the suspicious circumstances which had
  • attended the disappearance of Toby were enough of themselves to excite
  • distrust with regard to the savages, in whose power I felt myself to be
  • entirely placed, especially when it was combined with the knowledge that
  • these very men, kind and respectful as they were to me, were, after all,
  • nothing better than a set of cannibals.
  • But my chief source of anxiety, and that which poisoned every temporary
  • enjoyment, was the mysterious disease in my leg, which still remained
  • unabated. All the herbal applications of Tinor, united with the severer
  • discipline of the old leech, and the affectionate nursing of Kory-Kory,
  • had failed to relieve me. I was almost a cripple, and the pain I endured
  • at intervals was agonizing. The unaccountable malady showed no signs of
  • amendment; on the contrary, its violence increased day by day, and
  • threatened the most fatal results, unless some powerful means were
  • employed to counteract it. It seemed as if I were destined to sink under
  • this grievous affliction, or at least that it would hinder me from
  • availing myself of any opportunity of escaping from the valley.
  • An incident which occurred as nearly as I can estimate about three weeks
  • after the disappearance of Toby, convinced me that the natives, from some
  • reason or other, would interpose every possible obstacle to my leaving
  • them.
  • One morning there was no little excitement evinced by the people near my
  • abode, and which I soon discovered proceeded from a vague report that
  • boats had been seen at a great distance approaching the bay. Immediately
  • all was bustle and animation. It so happened that day that the pain I
  • suffered having somewhat abated, and feeling in much better spirits than
  • usual, I had complied with Kory-Kory’s invitation to visit the chief
  • Mehevi at the place called the “Ti,” which I have before described as
  • being situated within the precincts of the Taboo groves. These sacred
  • recesses were at no great distance from Marheyo’s habitation, and lay
  • between it and the sea; the path that conducted to the beach passing
  • directly in front of the Ti, and thence skirting along the border of the
  • groves.
  • I was reposing upon the mats, within the sacred building, in company with
  • Mehevi and several other chiefs, when the announcement was first made. It
  • sent a thrill of joy through my whole frame;—perhaps Toby was about to
  • return. I rose at once to my feet, and my instinctive impulse was to hurry
  • down to the beach, equally regardless of the distance that separated me
  • from it, and of my disabled condition. As soon as Mehevi noticed the
  • effect the intelligence had produced upon me, and the impatience I
  • betrayed to reach the sea, his countenance assumed that inflexible
  • rigidity of expression which had so awed me on the afternoon of our
  • arrival at the house of Marheyo, As I was proceeding to leave the Ti, he
  • laid his hand upon my shoulder, and said gravely, “abo, abo” (wait, wait).
  • Solely intent upon the one thought that occupied my mind, and heedless of
  • his request, I was brushing past him, when suddenly he reassumed a tone of
  • authority, and told me to “moee” (sit down). Though struck by the
  • alteration in his demeanour, the excitement under which I laboured was too
  • strong to permit me to obey the unexpected command, and I was still
  • limping towards the edge of the pi-pi with Kory-Kory clinging to one arm
  • in his efforts to restrain me when the natives around me started to their
  • feet, ranged themselves along the open front of the building, while Mehevi
  • looked at me scowlingly, and reiterated his commands still more sternly.
  • It was at this moment, when fifty savage countenances were glaring upon
  • me, that I first truly experienced I was indeed a captive in the valley.
  • The conviction rushed upon me with staggering force, and I was overwhelmed
  • by this confirmation of my worst fears. I saw at once that it was useless
  • for me to resist, and sick at heart, I reseated myself upon the mats, and
  • for the moment abandoned myself to despair.
  • I now perceived the natives one after the other hurrying past the Ti and
  • pursuing the route that conducted to the sea. These savages, thought I,
  • will soon be holding communication with some of my own countrymen perhaps,
  • who with ease could restore me to liberty did they know of the situation I
  • was in. No language can describe the wretchedness which I felt; and in the
  • bitterness of my soul I imprecated a thousand curses on the perfidious
  • Toby, who had thus abandoned me to destruction. It was in vain that
  • Kory-Kory tempted me with food, or lighted my pipe, or sought to attract
  • my attention by performing the uncouth antics that had sometimes diverted
  • me. I was fairly knocked down by this last misfortune, which, much as I
  • had feared it, I had never before had the courage calmly to contemplate.
  • Regardless of everything but my own sorrow, I remained in the Ti for
  • several hours, until shouts proceeding at intervals from the groves beyond
  • the house proclaimed the return of the natives from the beach.
  • Whether any boats visited the bay that morning or not, I never could
  • ascertain. The savages assured me that there had not—but I was inclined to
  • believe that by deceiving me in this particular they sought to allay the
  • violence of my grief. However that might be, this incident showed plainly
  • that the Typees intended to hold me a prisoner. As they still treated me
  • with the same sedulous attention as before, I was utterly at a loss how to
  • account for their singular conduct. Had I been in a situation to instruct
  • them in any of the rudiments of the mechanic arts, or had I manifested a
  • disposition to render myself in any way useful among them, their conduct
  • might have been attributed to some adequate motive, but as it was, the
  • matter seemed to me inexplicable.
  • During my whole stay on the island there occurred but two or three
  • instances where the natives applied to me with the view of availing
  • themselves of my superior information; and these now appear so ludicrous
  • that I cannot forbear relating them.
  • The few things we had brought from Nukuheva had been done up into a small
  • bundle which we had carried with us in our descent to the valley. This
  • bundle, the first night of our arrival, I had used as a pillow, but on the
  • succeeding morning, opening it for the inspection of the natives, they
  • gazed upon the miscellaneous contents as though I had just revealed to
  • them a casket of diamonds, and they insisted that so precious a treasure
  • should be properly secured. A line was accordingly attached to it, and the
  • other end being passed over the ridge-pole of the house, it was hoisted up
  • to the apex of the roof, where it hung suspended directly over the mats
  • where I usually reclined. When I desired anything from it I merely raised
  • my finger to a bamboo beside me, and taking hold of the string which was
  • there fastened, lowered the package. This was exceedingly handy, and I
  • took care to let the natives understand how much I applauded the
  • invention. Of this package the chief contents were a razor with its case,
  • a supply of needles and thread, a pound or two of tobacco, and a few yards
  • of a bright-coloured calico.
  • I should have mentioned, that shortly after Toby’s disappearance,
  • perceiving the uncertainty of the time I might be obliged to remain in the
  • valley,—if, indeed, I ever should escape from it,—and considering that my
  • whole wardrobe consisted of a shirt and a pair of trousers, I resolved to
  • doff these garments at once, in order to preserve them in a suitable
  • condition for wear, should I again appear among civilized beings. I was
  • consequently obliged to assume the Typee costume, a little altered,
  • however, to suit my own views of propriety, and in which I have no doubt I
  • appeared to as much advantage as a senator of Rome enveloped in the folds
  • of his toga. A few folds of yellow tappa, tucked about my waist, descended
  • to my feet in the style of a lady’s petticoat, only I did not have
  • recourse to those voluminous paddings in the rear with which our gentle
  • dames are in the habit of augmenting the sublime rotundity of their
  • figures. This usually comprised my in-door dress: whenever I walked out, I
  • superadded to it an ample robe of the same material, which completely
  • enveloped my person, and screened it from the rays of the sun.
  • One morning I made a rent in this mantle; and to show the islanders with
  • what facility it could be repaired, I lowered my bundle, and taking from
  • it a needle and thread, proceeded to stitch up the opening. They regarded
  • this wonderful application of science with intense admiration; and whilst
  • I was stitching away, old Marheyo, who was one of the lookers-on, suddenly
  • clapped his hand to his forehead, and rushing to a corner of the house,
  • drew forth a soiled and tattered strip of faded calico—which he must have
  • procured some time or other in traffic on the beach—and besought me
  • eagerly to exercise a little of my art upon it. I willingly complied,
  • though certainly so stumpy a needle as mine never took such gigantic
  • strides over calico before. The repairs completed, old Marheyo gave me a
  • paternal hug; and divesting himself of his “maro” (girdle), swathed the
  • calico about his loins, and slipping the beloved ornaments into his ears,
  • grasped his spear and sallied out of the house, like a valiant Templar
  • arrayed in a new and costly suit of armour.
  • I never used my razor during my stay in the island, but, although a very
  • subordinate affair, it had been vastly admired by the Typees; and
  • Narmonee, a great hero among them, who was exceedingly precise in the
  • arrangements of his toilet and the general adjustment of his person, being
  • the most accurately tattooed and laboriously horrified individual in all
  • the valley, thought it would be a great advantage to have it applied to
  • the already shaven crown of his head.
  • The implement they usually employ is a shark’s tooth, which is about as
  • well adapted to the purpose as a one-pronged fork for pitching hay. No
  • wonder, then, that the acute Narmonee perceived the advantage my razor
  • possessed over the usual implement. Accordingly, one day, he requested as
  • a personal favour, that I would just run over his head with the razor. In
  • reply, I gave him to understand that it was too dull, and could not be
  • used to any purpose without being previously sharpened. To assist my
  • meaning, I went through an imaginary honing process on the palm of my
  • hand. Narmonee took my meaning in an instant, and running out of the
  • house, returned the next moment with a huge rough mass of rock as big as a
  • millstone, and indicated to me that that was exactly the thing I wanted.
  • Of course there was nothing left for me but to proceed to business, and I
  • began scraping away at a great rate. He writhed and wriggled under the
  • infliction, but, fully convinced of my skill, endured the pain like a
  • martyr.
  • Though I never saw Narmonee in battle, I will, from what I then observed,
  • stake my life upon his courage and fortitude. Before commencing
  • operations, his head had presented a surface of short bristling hairs, and
  • by the time I had concluded my unskilful operation it resembled not a
  • little a stubble field after being gone over with a harrow. However, as
  • the chief expressed the liveliest satisfaction at the result, I was too
  • wise to dissent from his opinion.
  • CHAPTER XVI
  • Improvement in health and spirits—Felicity of the Typees—A
  • skirmish in the mountain with the warriors of Happar.
  • Day after day wore on, and still there was no perceptible change in the
  • conduct of the islanders towards me. Gradually I lost all knowledge of the
  • regular recurrence of the days of the week, and sunk insensibly into that
  • kind of apathy which ensues after some violent outbreak of despair. My
  • limb suddenly healed, the swelling went down, the pain subsided, and I had
  • every reason to suppose I should soon completely recover from the
  • affliction that had so long tormented me.
  • As soon as I was enabled to ramble about the valley in company with the
  • natives, troops of whom followed me whenever I sallied out of the house, I
  • began to experience an elasticity of mind which placed me beyond the reach
  • of those dismal forebodings to which I had so lately been a prey. Received
  • wherever I went with the most deferential kindness; regaled perpetually
  • with the most delightful fruits; ministered to by dark-eyed nymphs; and
  • enjoying besides all the services of the devoted Kory-Kory, I thought
  • that, for a sojourn among cannibals, no man could have well made a more
  • agreeable one.
  • To be sure, there were limits set to my wanderings. Toward the sea, my
  • progress was barred by an express prohibition of the savages; and after
  • having made two or three ineffectual attempts to reach it, as much to
  • gratify my curiosity as anything else, I gave up the idea. It was in vain
  • to think of reaching it by stealth, since the natives escorted me in
  • numbers wherever I went, and not for one single moment that I can recall
  • to mind was I ever permitted to be alone.
  • The green and precipitous elevations that stood ranged around the head of
  • the vale where Marheyo’s habitation was situated, effectually precluded
  • all hope of escape in that quarter, even if I could have stolen away from
  • the thousand eyes of the savages.
  • But these reflections now seldom obtruded upon me; I gave myself up to the
  • passing hour, and if ever disagreeable thoughts arose in my mind, I drove
  • them away. When I looked around the verdant recess in which I was buried,
  • and gazed up to the summits of the lofty eminence that hemmed me in, I was
  • well disposed to think that I was in the “Happy Valley,” and that beyond
  • those heights there was nought but a world of care and anxiety.
  • In this frame of mind, every object that presented itself to my notice
  • struck me in a new light, and the opportunities I now enjoyed of observing
  • the manners of the natives, tended to strengthen my favourable
  • impressions. One peculiarity that fixed my admiration was the perpetual
  • hilarity reigning through the whole extent of the vale. There seemed to be
  • no cares, griefs, troubles, or vexations in all Typee. The hours tripped
  • along as gaily as the laughing couples down a country dance.
  • There were none of those thousand sources of irritation that the ingenuity
  • of civilized man has created to mar his own felicity. There were no
  • foreclosures of mortgages, no protested notes, no bills payable, no debts
  • of honour, in Typee; no unreasonable tailors and shoemakers, perversely
  • bent on being paid; no duns of any description; no assault and battery
  • attorneys, to foment discord, backing their clients up to a quarrel, and
  • then knocking their heads together; no poor relations everlastingly
  • occupying the spare bed-chamber, and diminishing the elbow-room at the
  • family table; no destitute widows with their children starving on the cold
  • charities of the world; no beggars; no debtor’s prisons; no proud and
  • hard-hearted nabobs in Typee; or, to sum up all in one word—no Money! That
  • “root of all evil” was not to be found in the valley.
  • In this secluded abode of happiness there were no cross old women, no
  • cruel step-dames, no withered spinsters, no love-sick maidens, no sour old
  • bachelors, no inattentive husbands, no melancholy young men, no blubbering
  • youngsters, and no squalling brats. All was mirth, fun, and high good
  • humour. Blue devils, hypochondria, and doleful dumps went and hid
  • themselves among the nooks and crannies of the rocks.
  • Here you would see a parcel of children frolicking together the live-long
  • day, and no quarrelling, no contention among them. The same number in our
  • own land could not have played together for the space of an hour without
  • biting or scratching one another. There you might have seen a throng of
  • young females, not filled with envyings of each other’s charms, nor
  • displaying the ridiculous affectations of gentility, nor yet moving in
  • whalebone corsets, like so many automatons, but free, inartificially happy
  • and unconstrained.
  • There were some spots in that sunny vale where they would frequently
  • resort to decorate themselves with garlands of flowers. To have seen them
  • reclining beneath the shadows of one of the beautiful groves, the ground
  • about them strewn with freshly gathered buds and blossoms, employed in
  • weaving chaplets and necklaces, one would have thought that all the train
  • of Flora had gathered together to keep a festival in honour of their
  • mistress.
  • With the young men there seemed almost always some matter of diversion or
  • business on hand, that afforded a constant variety of enjoyment. But
  • whether fishing, or carving canoes, or polishing their ornaments, never
  • was there exhibited the least sign of strife or contention among them.
  • As for the warriors, they maintained a tranquil dignity of demeanour,
  • journeying occasionally from house to house, where they were always sure
  • to be received with the attention bestowed upon distinguished guests. The
  • old men, of whom there were many in the vale, seldom stirred from their
  • mats, where they would recline for hours and hours, smoking and talking to
  • one another with all the garrulity of age.
  • But the continual happiness which, so far as I was able to judge, appeared
  • to prevail in the valley, sprung principally from that all-pervading
  • sensation which Rousseau has told us he at one time experienced, the mere
  • buoyant sense of a healthful physical existence. And, indeed, in this
  • particular the Typees had ample reason to felicitate themselves, for
  • sickness was almost unknown. During the whole period of my stay, I saw but
  • one invalid among them; and on their smooth clear skins you observed no
  • blemish or mark of disease.
  • The general repose, however, upon which I have just been descanting, was
  • broken in upon about this time by an event, which proved that the
  • islanders were not entirely exempt from those occurrences which disturb
  • the quiet of more civilized communities.
  • Having now been a considerable time in the valley, I began to feel
  • surprised that the violent hostility subsisting between its inhabitants
  • and those of the adjoining bay of Happar, should never have manifested
  • itself in any warlike encounter. Although the valiant Typees would often,
  • by gesticulations, declare their undying hatred against their enemies, and
  • the disgust they felt at their cannibal propensities; although they
  • dilated upon the manifold injuries they had received at their hands, yet,
  • with a forbearance truly commendable, they appeared patiently to sit down
  • under their grievances, and to refrain from making any reprisals. The
  • Happars, entrenched behind their mountains, and never even showing
  • themselves on their summits, did not appear to me to furnish adequate
  • cause for that excess of animosity evinced towards them by the heroic
  • tenants of our vale, and I was inclined to believe that the deeds of blood
  • attributed to them had been greatly exaggerated.
  • On the other hand, as the clamours of war had not up to this period
  • disturbed the serenity of the tribe, I began to distrust the truth of
  • those reports which ascribed so fierce and belligerent a character to the
  • Typee nation. Surely, thought I, all these terrible stories I have heard
  • about the inveteracy with which they carried on the feud, their deadly
  • intensity of hatred, and the diabolical malice with which they glutted
  • their revenge upon the inanimate forms of the slain, are nothing more than
  • fables, and I must confess that I experienced something like a sense of
  • regret at having my hideous anticipations thus disappointed. I felt in
  • some sort like a ’prentice boy who, going to the play in the expectation
  • of being delighted with a cut-and-thrust tragedy, is almost moved to tears
  • of disappointment at the exhibition of a genteel comedy.
  • I could not avoid thinking that I had fallen in with a greatly traduced
  • people, and I moralized not a little upon the disadvantage of having a bad
  • name, which in this instance had given a tribe of savages, who were as
  • pacific as so many lambkins, the reputation of a confederacy of
  • giant-killers.
  • But subsequent events proved that I had been a little too premature in
  • coming to this conclusion. One day, about noon, happening to be at the Ti,
  • I had lain down on the mats with several of the chiefs, and had gradually
  • sunk into a most luxurious siesta, when I was awakened by a tremendous
  • outcry, and starting up, beheld the natives, seizing their spears and
  • hurrying out, while the most puissant of the chiefs, grasping the six
  • muskets which were ranged against the bamboos, followed after, and soon
  • disappeared in the groves. These movements were accompanied by wild
  • shouts, in which “Happar, Happar,” greatly predominated. The islanders
  • were now to be seen running past the Ti, and striking across the valley to
  • the Happar side. Presently I heard the sharp report of a musket from the
  • adjoining hills, and then a burst of voices in the same direction. At this
  • the women, who had congregated in the groves, set up the most violent
  • clamours, as they invariably do here as elsewhere on every occasion of
  • excitement and alarm, with a view of tranquillizing their own minds and
  • disturbing other people. On this particular occasion they made such an
  • outrageous noise, and continued it with such perseverance, that for
  • awhile, had entire volleys of musketry been fired off in the neighbouring
  • mountains, I should not have been able to have heard them.
  • When this female commotion had a little subsided I listened eagerly for
  • further information. At last bang went another shot, and then a second
  • volley of yells from the hills. Again all was quiet, and continued so for
  • such a length of time that I began to think the contending armies had
  • agreed upon a suspension of hostilities; when pop went a third gun,
  • followed as before with a yell. After this, for nearly two hours nothing
  • occurred worthy of comment, save some straggling shouts from the hillside,
  • sounding like the halloos of a parcel of truant boys who had lost
  • themselves in the woods.
  • During this interval I had remained standing on the piazza of the “Ti,”
  • which directly fronted the Happar mountain, and with no one near me but
  • Kory-Kory and the old superannuated savages I have before described. These
  • latter never stirred from their mats, and seemed altogether unconscious
  • that anything unusual was going on.
  • As for Kory-Kory, he appeared to think that we were in the midst of great
  • events, and sought most zealously to impress me with a due sense of their
  • importance. Every sound that reached us conveyed some momentous item of
  • intelligence to him. At such times, as if he were gifted with second
  • sight, he would go through a variety of pantomimic illustrations, showing
  • me the precise manner in which the redoubtable Typees were at that very
  • moment chastising the insolence of the enemy. “Mehevi hanna pippee nuee
  • Happar,” he exclaimed every five minutes, giving me to understand that
  • under that distinguished captain the warriors of his nation were
  • performing prodigies of valour.
  • Having heard only four reports from the muskets, I was led to believe that
  • they were worked by the islanders in the same manner as the Sultan
  • Solyman’s ponderous artillery at the siege of Byzantium, one of them
  • taking an hour or two to load and train. At last, no sound whatever
  • proceeding from the mountains, I concluded that the contest had been
  • determined one way or the other. Such appeared, indeed, to be the case,
  • for in a little while a courier arrived at the “Ti,” almost breathless
  • with his exertions, and communicated the news of a great victory having
  • been achieved by his countrymen: “Happar poo arva!—Happar poo arva!” (the
  • cowards had fled). Kory-Kory was in ecstasies, and commenced a vehement
  • harangue, which, so far as I understood it, implied that the result
  • exactly agreed with his expectations, and which, moreover, was intended to
  • convince me that it would be a perfectly useless undertaking, even for an
  • army of fire-eaters, to offer battle to the irresistible heroes of our
  • valley. In all this I of course acquiesced, and looked forward with no
  • little interest to the return of the conquerors, whose victory I feared
  • might not have been purchased without cost to themselves.
  • But here I was again mistaken; for Mehevi, in conducting his warlike
  • operations, rather inclined to the Fabian than to the Buonapartean
  • tactics, husbanding his resources and exposing his troops to no
  • unnecessary hazards. The total loss of the victors in this obstinately
  • contested affair was,—in killed, wounded, and missing—one forefinger and
  • part of a thumb-nail (which the late proprietor brought along with him in
  • his hand), a severely contused arm, and a considerable effusion of blood
  • flowing from the thigh of a chief who had received an ugly thrust from a
  • Happar spear. What the enemy had suffered I could not discover, but I
  • presume they had succeeded in taking off with them the bodies of their
  • slain.
  • Such was the issue of the battle, as far as its results came under my
  • observation; and as it appeared to be considered an event of prodigious
  • importance, I reasonably concluded that the wars of the natives were
  • marked by no very sanguinary traits. I afterwards learned how the skirmish
  • had originated. A number of the Happars had been discovered prowling for
  • no good purpose on the Typee side of the mountain; the alarm sounded, and
  • the invaders, after a protracted resistance, had been chased over the
  • frontier. But why had not the intrepid Mehevi carried the war into Happar?
  • Why had not he made a descent into the hostile vale, and brought away some
  • trophy of his victory—some materials for the cannibal entertainment which
  • I had heard usually terminated every engagement? After all, I was much
  • inclined to believe that these shocking festivals must occur very rarely
  • among the islanders, if, indeed, they ever take place.
  • For two or three days the late event was the theme of general comment;
  • after which the excitement gradually wore away, and the valley resumed its
  • accustomed tranquillity.
  • CHAPTER XVII
  • Swimming in company with the girls of the valley—A canoe—Effects
  • of the taboo—A pleasure excursion on the pond—Beautiful freak of
  • Fayaway—Mantua-making—A stranger arrives in the valley—His
  • mysterious conduct—Native oratory—The interview—Its
  • results—Departure of the stranger.
  • Returning health and peace of mind gave a new interest to everything
  • around me. I sought to diversify my time by as many enjoyments as lay
  • within my reach. Bathing in company with troops of girls, formed one of my
  • chief amusements. We sometimes enjoyed the recreation in the waters of a
  • miniature lake, into which the central stream of the valley expanded. This
  • lovely sheet of water was almost circular in figure, and about three
  • hundred yards across. Its beauty was indescribable. All around its banks
  • waved luxuriant masses of tropical foliage, soaring high above which were
  • seen, here and there, the symmetrical shaft of the cocoa-nut tree,
  • surmounted by its tuft of graceful branches, drooping in the air like so
  • many waving ostrich plumes.
  • The ease and grace with which the maidens of the valley propelled
  • themselves through the water, and their familiarity with the element, were
  • truly astonishing. Sometimes they might be seen gliding along just under
  • the surface, without apparently moving hand or foot; then throwing
  • themselves on their sides, they darted through the water, revealing
  • glimpses of their forms, as, in the course of their rapid progress, they
  • shot for an instant partly into the air; at one moment they dived deep
  • down into the water, and the next they rose bounding to the surface.
  • I remember upon one occasion plunging in among a parcel of these
  • river-nymphs, and counting vainly on my superior strength, sought to drag
  • some of them under the water; but I quickly repented my temerity. The
  • amphibious young creatures swarmed about me like a shoal of dolphins, and
  • seizing hold of my devoted limbs, tumbled me about and ducked me under the
  • surface, until from the strange noises which rang in my ears, and the
  • supernatural visions dancing before my eyes, I thought I was in the land
  • of spirits. I stood indeed as little chance among them as a cumbrous whale
  • attacked on all sides by a legion of sword-fish. When at length they
  • relinquished their hold of me, they swam away in every direction, laughing
  • at my clumsy endeavours to reach them.
  • There was no boat on the lake; but at my solicitation, and for my special
  • use, some of the young men attached to Marheyo’s household, under the
  • direction of the indefatigable Kory-Kory, brought up a light and
  • tastefully carved canoe from the sea. It was launched upon the sheet of
  • water, and floated there as gracefully as a swan. But, melancholy to
  • relate, it produced an effect I had not anticipated. The sweet nymphs, who
  • had sported with me before in the lake, now all fled its vicinity. The
  • prohibited craft, guarded by the edicts of the “taboo,” extended the
  • prohibition to the waters in which it lay.
  • For a few days, Kory-Kory, with one or two other youths, accompanied me in
  • my excursions to the lake and, while I paddled about in my light canoe,
  • would swim after me shouting and gambolling in pursuit. But this was far
  • from contenting me. Indeed, I soon began to weary of it, and longed more
  • than ever for the pleasant society of the mermaids, in whose absence the
  • amusement was dull and insipid. One morning I expressed to my faithful
  • servitor my desire for the return of the nymphs. The honest fellow looked
  • at me, bewildered for a moment, and then shook his head solemnly, and
  • murmured “_taboo! taboo!_” giving me to understand that unless the canoe
  • was removed, I could not expect to have the young ladies back again. But
  • to this procedure I was averse; I not only wanted the canoe to stay where
  • it was, but I wanted the beauteous Fayaway to get into it, and paddle with
  • me about the lake. This latter proposition completely horrified
  • Kory-Kory’s notions of propriety. He inveighed against it, as something
  • too monstrous to be thought of. It not only shocked their established
  • notions of propriety, but was at variance with all their religious
  • ordinances.
  • However, although the “taboo” was a ticklish thing to meddle with, I
  • determined to test its capabilities of resisting an attack. I consulted
  • the chief Mehevi, who endeavoured to persuade me from my object: but I was
  • not to be repulsed; and accordingly increased the warmth of my
  • solicitations. At last he entered into a long, and I have no doubt a very
  • learned and eloquent exposition of the history and nature of the “taboo”
  • as affecting this particular case; employing a variety of most
  • extraordinary words, which, from their amazing length and sonorousness, I
  • have every reason to believe were of a theological nature. But all that he
  • said failed to convince me: partly perhaps, because I could not comprehend
  • a word that he uttered; but chiefly, that for the life of me, I could not
  • understand why a woman should not have as much right to enter a canoe as a
  • man. At last he became a little more rational, and intimated that, out of
  • the abundant love he bore me, he would consult with the priests and see
  • what could be done.
  • How it was that the priesthood of Typee satisfied the affair with their
  • consciences, I know not; but so it was, and Fayaway’s dispensation from
  • this portion of the taboo was at length procured. Such an event, I
  • believe, never before had occurred in the valley; but it was high time the
  • islanders should be taught a little gallantry, and I trust that the
  • example I set them may produce beneficial effects. Ridiculous, indeed,
  • that the lovely creatures should be obliged to paddle about in the water,
  • like so many ducks, while a parcel of great strapping fellows skimmed over
  • its surface in their canoes.
  • The first day after Fayaway’s emancipation, I had a delightful little
  • party on the lake—the damsel, Kory-Kory, and myself. My zealous
  • body-servant brought from the house a calabash of poee-poee, half a dozen
  • young cocoa-nuts—stripped of their husks—three pipes, as many yams, and me
  • on his back a part of the way. Something of a load; but Kory-Kory was a
  • very strong man for his size, and by no means brittle in the spine. We had
  • a very pleasant day; my trusty valet plied the paddle and swept us gently
  • along the margin of the water, beneath the shades of the overhanging
  • thickets. Fayaway and I reclined in the stern of the canoe, the gentle
  • nymph occasionally placing her pipe to her lips, and exhaling the mild
  • fumes of the tobacco, to which her rosy breath added a fresh perfume.
  • Strange as it may seem, there is nothing in which a young and beautiful
  • female appears to more advantage than in the act of smoking. How
  • captivating is a Peruvian lady, swinging in her gaily-woven hammock of
  • grass, extended between two orange-trees, and inhaling the fragrance of a
  • choice cigarro! But Fayaway, holding in her delicately-formed olive hand
  • the long yellow reed of her pipe, with its quaintly carved bowl, and every
  • few moments languishingly giving forth light wreaths of vapour from her
  • mouth and nostrils, looked still more engaging.
  • We boated about thus for several hours, when I looked up to the warm,
  • glowing, tropical sky, and then down into the transparent depths below;
  • and when my eye, wandering from the bewitching scenery around, fell upon
  • the grotesquely-tattooed form of Kory-Kory, and finally encountered the
  • pensive gaze of Fayaway, I thought I had been transported to some fairy
  • region, so unreal did everything appear.
  • This lovely piece of water was the coolest spot in all the valley, and I
  • now made it a place of continual resort during the hottest period of the
  • day. One side of it lay near the termination of a long gradually expanding
  • gorge, which mounted to the heights that environed the vale. The strong
  • trade-wind, met in its course by these elevations, circled and eddied
  • about their summits, and was sometimes driven down the steep ravine and
  • swept across the valley, ruffling in its passage the otherwise tranquil
  • surface of the lake.
  • One day, after we had been paddling about for some time, I disembarked
  • Kory-Kory, and paddled the canoe to the windward side of the lake. As I
  • turned the canoe, Fayaway, who was with me, seemed all at once to be
  • struck with some happy idea. With a wild exclamation of delight, she
  • disengaged from her person the ample robe of tappa which was knotted over
  • her shoulder (for the purpose of shielding her from the sun), and
  • spreading it out like a sail, stood erect with up-raised arms in the head
  • of the canoe. We American sailors pride ourselves upon our straight clean
  • spars, but a prettier little mast than Fayaway made was never shipped
  • aboard of any craft.
  • In a moment the tappa was distended by the breeze—the long brown tresses
  • of Fayaway streamed in the air—and the canoe glided rapidly through the
  • water, and shot towards the shore. Seated in the stern, I directed its
  • course with my paddle until it dashed up the soft sloping bank, and
  • Fayaway, with a light spring, alighted on the ground; whilst Kory-Kory,
  • who had watched our manœuvres with admiration, now clapped his hands in
  • transport, and shouted like a madman. Many a time afterwards was this feat
  • repeated.
  • If the reader has not observed ere this that I was the declared admirer of
  • Miss Fayaway, all I can say is, that he is little conversant with affairs
  • of the heart, and I certainly shall not trouble myself to enlighten him
  • any farther. Out of the calico I had brought from the ship a dress was
  • made for this lovely girl. In it she looked, I must confess, something
  • like an opera-dancer. The drapery of the latter damsel generally commences
  • a little above the elbows, but my island beauty’s began at the waist, and
  • terminated sufficiently far above the ground to reveal the most bewitching
  • ankle in the universe.
  • The day that Fayaway first wore this robe was rendered memorable by a new
  • acquaintance being introduced to me. In the afternoon I was lying in the
  • house, when I heard a great uproar outside; but being by this time pretty
  • well accustomed to the wild halloos which were almost continually ringing
  • through the valley, I paid little attention to it, until old Marheyo,
  • under the influence of some strange excitement, rushed into my presence
  • and communicated the astounding tidings, “Marnoo pemi!” which being
  • interpreted, implied that an individual by the name of Marnoo was
  • approaching. My worthy old friend evidently expected that this
  • intelligence would produce a great effect upon me, and for a time he stood
  • earnestly regarding me, as if curious to see how I should conduct myself,
  • but as I remained perfectly unmoved, the old gentleman darted out of the
  • house again, in as great a hurry as he had entered it.
  • “Marnoo, Marnoo,” cogitated I, “I have never heard that name before. Some
  • distinguished character, I presume, from the prodigious riot the natives
  • are making”; the tumultuous noise drawing nearer and nearer every moment,
  • while “Marnoo!—Marnoo!” was shouted by every tongue.
  • I made up my mind that some savage warrior of consequence, who had not yet
  • enjoyed the honour of an audience, was desirous of paying his respects on
  • the present occasion. So vain had I become by the lavish attention to
  • which I had been accustomed, that I felt half inclined, as a punishment
  • for such neglect, to give this Marnoo a cold reception, when the excited
  • throng came within view, convoying one of the most striking specimens of
  • humanity that I ever beheld.
  • The stranger could not have been more than twenty-five years of age, and
  • was a little above the ordinary height; had he been a single hair’s
  • breadth taller, the matchless symmetry of his form would have been
  • destroyed. His unclad limbs were beautifully formed; whilst the elegant
  • outline of his figure, together with his beardless cheeks, might have
  • entitled him to the distinction of standing for the statue of the
  • Polynesian Apollo; and indeed the oval of his countenance and the
  • regularity of every feature reminded me of an antique bust. But the marble
  • repose of art was supplied by a warmth and liveliness of expression only
  • to be seen in the South Sea islander under the most favourable
  • developments of nature. The hair of Marnoo was a rich curling brown, and
  • twined about his temples and neck in little close curling ringlets, which
  • danced up and down continually when he was animated in conversation. His
  • cheek was of a feminine softness, and his face was free from the least
  • blemish of tattooing, although the rest of his body was drawn all over
  • with fanciful figures, which—unlike the unconnected sketching usual among
  • these natives—appeared to have been executed in conformity with some
  • general design.
  • The tattooing on his back in particular attracted my attention. The artist
  • employed must indeed have excelled in his profession. Traced along the
  • course of the spine was accurately delineated the slender, tapering, and
  • diamond-checkered shaft of the beautiful “artu” tree. Branching from the
  • stem on either side, and disposed alternately, were the graceful branches
  • drooping with leaves all correctly drawn, and elaborately finished.
  • Indeed, this piece of tattooing was the best specimen of the Fine Arts I
  • had yet seen in Typee. A rear view of the stranger might have suggested
  • the idea of a spreading vine tacked against a garden wall. Upon his
  • breast, arms, and legs, were exhibited an infinite variety of figures;
  • every one of which, however, appeared to have reference to the general
  • effect sought to be produced. The tattooing I have described was of the
  • brightest blue, and when contrasted with the light olive-colour of the
  • skin, produced an unique and even elegant effect. A slight girdle of white
  • tappa, scarcely two inches in width, but hanging before and behind in
  • spreading tassels, composed the entire costume of the stranger.
  • He advanced surrounded by the islanders, carrying under one arm a small
  • roll of the native cloth, and grasping in his other hand a long and
  • richly-decorated spear. His manner was that of a traveller conscious that
  • he is approaching a comfortable stage in his journey. Every moment he
  • turned good-humouredly to the throng around him, and gave some dashing
  • sort of reply to their incessant queries, which appeared to convulse them
  • with uncontrollable mirth.
  • Struck by his demeanour, and the peculiarity of his appearance, so unlike
  • that of the shaven-crowned and face-tattooed natives in general, I
  • involuntarily rose as he entered the house, and proffered him a seat on
  • the mats beside me. But without deigning to notice the civility, or even
  • the more incontrovertible fact of my existence, the stranger passed on,
  • utterly regardless of me, and flung himself upon the farther end of the
  • long couch that traversed the sole apartment of Marheyo’s habitation.
  • Had the belle of the season, in the pride of her beauty and power, been
  • cut in a place of public resort by some supercilious exquisite, she could
  • not have felt greater indignation than I did at this unexpected slight.
  • I was thrown into utter astonishment. The conduct of the savages had
  • prepared me to anticipate from every new-comer the same extravagant
  • expression of curiosity and regard. The singularity of his conduct,
  • however, only roused my desire to discover who this remarkable personage
  • might be, who now engrossed the attention of every one.
  • Tinor placed before him a calabash of poee-poee, from which the stranger
  • regaled himself, alternating every mouthful with some rapid exclamation,
  • which was eagerly caught up and echoed by the crowd that completely filled
  • the house. When I observed the striking devotion of the natives to him,
  • and their temporary withdrawal of all attention from myself, I felt not a
  • little piqued. The glory of Tommo is departed, thought I, and the sooner
  • he removes from the valley the better. These were my feelings at the
  • moment, and they were prompted by that glorious principle inherent in all
  • heroic natures—the strong-rooted determination to have the biggest share
  • of the pudding or to go without any of it.
  • Marnoo, this all-attractive personage, having satisfied his hunger, and
  • inhaled a few whiffs from a pipe which was handed to him, launched out
  • into an harangue which completely enchained the attention of his auditors.
  • Little as I understood of the language, yet from his animated gestures and
  • the varying expression of his features—reflected as from so many mirrors
  • in the countenances around him—I could easily discover the nature of those
  • passions which he sought to arouse. From the frequent recurrence of the
  • words, “Nukuheva” and “Franee” (French), and some others with the meaning
  • of which I was acquainted, he appeared to be rehearsing to his auditors
  • events which had recently occurred in the neighboring bays. But how he had
  • gained the knowledge of these matters, I could not understand, unless it
  • were that he had just come from Nukuheva,—a supposition which his
  • travel-stained appearance not a little supported. But, if a native of that
  • region, I could not account for his friendly reception at the hands of the
  • Typees.
  • Never, certainly, had I beheld so powerful an exhibition of natural
  • eloquence as Marnoo displayed during the course of his oration. The grace
  • of the attitudes into which he threw his flexible figure, the striking
  • gestures of his naked arms, and above all, the fire which shot from his
  • brilliant eyes, imparted an effect to the continually-changing accents of
  • his voice, of which the most accomplished orator might have been proud. At
  • one moment reclining sideways upon the mat, and leaning calmly upon his
  • bended arm, he related circumstantially the aggressions of the
  • French—their hostile visit to the surrounding bays, enumerating each one
  • in succession—Happar, Puerka, Nukuheva, Tior,—and then starting to his
  • feet, and precipitating himself forward with clenched hands and a
  • countenance distorted with passion, he poured out a tide of invectives.
  • Falling back into an attitude of lofty command, he exhorted the Typees to
  • resist these encroachments; reminding them, with a fierce glance of
  • exultation, that as yet the terror of their name had preserved them from
  • attack; and with a scornful sneer, he sketched in ironical terms the
  • wondrous intrepidity of the French, who, with five war-canoes and hundreds
  • of men, had not dared to assail the naked warriors of their valley.
  • The effect he produced upon his audience was electric; one and all they
  • stood regarding him with sparkling eyes and trembling limbs, as though
  • they were listening to the inspired voice of a prophet.
  • But it soon appeared that Marnoo’s powers were as versatile as they were
  • extraordinary. As soon as he had finished his vehement harangue, he threw
  • himself again upon the mats, and, singling out individuals in the crowd,
  • addressed them by name, in a sort of bantering style, the humour of which,
  • though nearly hidden from me, filled the whole assembly with uproarious
  • delight.
  • He had a word for everybody; and, turning rapidly from one to another,
  • gave utterance to some hasty witticism, which was sure to be followed by
  • peals of laughter. To the females, as well as to the men, he addressed his
  • discourse. Heaven only knows what he said to them, but he caused smiles
  • and blushes to mantle their ingenuous faces. I am, indeed, very much
  • inclined to believe that Marnoo, with his handsome person and captivating
  • manners, was a sad deceiver among the simple maidens of the island.
  • During all this time, he had never for one moment deigned to regard me. He
  • appeared, indeed, to be altogether unconscious of my presence. I was
  • utterly at a loss how to account for this extraordinary conduct, I easily
  • perceived that he was a man of no little consequence among the islanders;
  • that he possessed uncommon talents; and was gifted with a higher degree of
  • knowledge than the inmates of the valley. For these reasons, I therefore
  • greatly feared lest, having, from some cause or other, unfriendly feelings
  • towards me, he might exert his powerful influence to do me mischief.
  • It seemed evident that he was not a permanent resident of the vale, and
  • yet, whence could he have come? On all sides the Typees were girt in by
  • hostile tribes, and how could he possibly, if belonging to any of these,
  • be received with so much cordiality?
  • The personal appearance of the enigmatical stranger suggested additional
  • perplexities. The face, free from tattooing, and the unshaven crown, were
  • peculiarities I had never before remarked in any part of the island, and I
  • had always heard that the contrary were considered the indispensable
  • distinctions of a Marquesan warrior. Altogether the matter was perfectly
  • incomprehensible to me, and I awaited its solution with no small degree of
  • anxiety.
  • At length, from certain indications, I suspected that he was making me the
  • subject of his remarks, although he appeared cautiously to avoid either
  • pronouncing my name, or looking in the direction where I lay. All at once
  • he rose from the mats where he had been reclining, and, still conversing,
  • moved towards me, his eye purposely evading mine, and seated himself
  • within less than a yard of me. I had hardly recovered from my surprise,
  • when he suddenly turned round, and with a most benignant countenance,
  • extended his right hand gracefully towards me. Of course I accepted the
  • courteous challenge, and, as soon as our palms met, he bent towards me,
  • and murmured in musical accents,—“How you do? How long have you been in
  • this bay? You like this bay?”
  • Had I been pierced simultaneously by three Happar spears, I could not have
  • started more than I did at hearing these simple questions. For a moment I
  • was overwhelmed with astonishment, and then answered something, I know not
  • what; but as soon as I regained my self-possession, the thought darted
  • through my mind that from this individual I might obtain that information
  • regarding Toby which I suspected the natives had purposely withheld from
  • me. Accordingly, I questioned him concerning the disappearance of my
  • companion, but he denied all knowledge of the matter. I then inquired from
  • whence he had come? He replied, from Nukuheva. When I expressed my
  • surprise, he looked at me for a moment, as if enjoying my perplexity, and
  • then, with his strange vivacity, exclaimed,—“Ah! me taboo,—me go
  • Nukuheva,—me go Tior,—me go Typee,—me go everywhere,—nobody harm
  • me,—taboo.”
  • This explanation would have been altogether unintelligible to me, had it
  • not recalled to my mind something I had previously heard concerning a
  • singular custom among these islanders. Though the country is possessed by
  • various tribes, whose mutual hostilities almost wholly preclude any
  • intercourse between them, yet there are instances where a person having
  • ratified friendly relations with some individual belonging to the valley,
  • whose inmates are at war with his own, may, under particular restrictions,
  • venture with impunity into the country of his friend, where, under other
  • circumstances, he would have been treated as an enemy. In this light are
  • personal friendships regarded among them, and the individual so protected
  • is said to be “taboo” and his person, to a certain extent, is held as
  • sacred. Thus the stranger informed me he had access to all the valleys in
  • the island.
  • Curious to know how he had acquired his knowledge of English, I questioned
  • him on the subject. At first, for some reason or other, he evaded the
  • inquiry, but afterwards told me that, when a boy, he had been carried to
  • sea by the captain of a trading vessel, with whom he had stayed three
  • years, living part of the time with him at Sydney, in Australia, and that,
  • at a subsequent visit to the island, the captain had, at his own request,
  • permitted him to remain among his countrymen. The natural quickness of the
  • savage had been wonderfully improved by his intercourse with the white
  • men, and his partial knowledge of a foreign language gave him a great
  • ascendancy over his less accomplished countrymen.
  • When I asked the now affable Marnoo why it was that he had not previously
  • spoken to me, he eagerly inquired what I had been led to think of him from
  • his conduct in that respect. I replied, that I had supposed him to be some
  • great chief or warrior, who had seen plenty of white men before, and did
  • not think it worth while to notice a poor sailor. At this declaration of
  • the exalted opinion I had formed of him, he appeared vastly gratified, and
  • gave me to understand that he had purposely behaved in that manner, in
  • order to increase my astonishment, as soon as he should see proper to
  • address me.
  • Marnoo now sought to learn my version of the story as to how I came to be
  • an inmate of the Typee valley. When I related to him the circumstances
  • under which Toby and I had entered it, he listened with evident interest;
  • but as soon as I alluded to the absence, yet unaccounted for, of my
  • comrade, he endeavoured to change the subject, as if it were something he
  • desired not to agitate. It seemed, indeed, as if everything connected with
  • Toby was destined to beget distrust and anxiety in my bosom.
  • Notwithstanding Marnoo’s denial of any knowledge of his fate, I could not
  • avoid suspecting that he was deceiving me; and this suspicion revived
  • those frightful apprehensions with regard to my own fate, which, for a
  • short time past, had subsided in my breast.
  • Influenced by these feelings, I now felt a strong desire to avail myself
  • of the stranger’s protection, and under his safeguard to return to
  • Nukuheva. But as soon as I hinted at this, he unhesitatingly pronounced it
  • to be entirely impracticable; assuring me that the Typees would never
  • consent to my leaving the valley. Although what he said merely confirmed
  • the impression which I had before entertained, still it increased my
  • anxiety to escape from a captivity, which, however endurable, nay,
  • delightful it might be in some respects, involved in its issues a fate
  • marked by the most frightful contingencies.
  • I could not conceal from my mind that Toby had been treated in the same
  • friendly manner as I had been, and yet all their kindness terminated with
  • his mysterious disappearance. Might not the same fate await me?—a fate too
  • dreadful to think of. Stimulated by these considerations, I urged anew my
  • request to Marnoo; but he only set forth in stronger colours the
  • impossibility of my escape, and repeated his previous declaration, that
  • the Typees would never be brought to consent to my departure.
  • When I endeavoured to learn from him the motives which prompted them to
  • hold me a prisoner, Marnoo again assumed that mysterious tone which had
  • tormented me with apprehensions when I had questioned him with regard to
  • the fate of my companion.
  • Thus repulsed, in a manner which only served, by arousing the most
  • dreadful forebodings, to excite me to renewed attempts, I conjured him to
  • intercede for me with the natives, and endeavour to procure their consent
  • to my leaving them. To this he appeared strongly averse; but, yielding at
  • last to my importunities, he addressed several of the chiefs, who with the
  • rest had been eyeing us intently during the whole of our conversation. His
  • petition, however, was at once met with the most violent disapprobation,
  • manifesting itself in angry glances and gestures, and a perfect torrent of
  • passionate words, directed to both him and myself. Marnoo, evidently
  • repenting the step he had taken, earnestly deprecated the resentment of
  • the crowd, and in a few moments succeeded in pacifying, to some extent,
  • the clamours which had broken out as soon as his proposition had been
  • understood.
  • With the most intense interest had I watched the reception his
  • intercession might receive; and a bitter pang shot through my heart at the
  • additional evidence, now furnished, of the unchangeable determination of
  • the islanders. Marnoo told me, with evident alarm in his countenance, that
  • although admitted into the bay on a friendly footing with its inhabitants,
  • he could not presume to meddle with their concerns, as such a procedure,
  • if persisted in, would at once absolve the Typees from the restraints of
  • the “taboo,” although so long as he refrained from any such conduct, it
  • screened him effectually from the consequences of the enmity they bore his
  • tribe.
  • At this moment, Mehevi, who was present, angrily interrupted him; and the
  • words which he uttered, in a commanding tone, evidently meant that he must
  • at once cease talking to me, and withdraw to the other part of the house.
  • Marnoo immediately started up, hurriedly enjoining me not to address him
  • again, and, as I valued my safety, to refrain from all further allusion to
  • the subject of my departure; and then, in compliance with the order of the
  • determined chief, but not before it had again been angrily repeated, he
  • withdrew to a distance.
  • I now perceived, with no small degree of apprehension, the same savage
  • expression in the countenances of the natives which had startled me during
  • the scene at the Ti. They glanced their eyes suspiciously from Marnoo to
  • me, as if distrusting the nature of an intercourse carried on, as it was,
  • in a language they could not understand, and they seemed to harbour the
  • belief that already we had concerted measures calculated to elude their
  • vigilance.
  • The lively countenances of these people are wonderfully indicative of the
  • emotions of the soul, and the imperfections of their oral language are
  • more than compensated for by the nervous eloquence of their looks and
  • gestures. I could plainly trace, in every varying expression of their
  • faces, all those passions which had been thus unexpectedly aroused in
  • their bosoms.
  • It required no reflection to convince me, from what was going on, that the
  • injunction of Marnoo was not to be rashly slighted; and accordingly, great
  • as was the effort to suppress my feelings, I accosted Mehevi in a
  • good-humoured tone, with a view of dissipating any ill impression he might
  • have received. But the ireful, angry chief was not so easily mollified. He
  • rejected my advances with that peculiarly stern expression I have before
  • described, and took care by the whole of his behaviour towards me to show
  • the displeasure and resentment which he felt.
  • Marnoo, at the other extremity of the house, apparently desirous of making
  • a diversion in my favour, exerted himself to amuse with his pleasantries
  • the crowd about him; but his lively attempts were not so successful as
  • they had previously been, and, foiled in his efforts, he rose gravely to
  • depart. No one expressed any regret at this movement, so seizing his roll
  • of tappa, and grasping his spear, he advanced to the front of the pi-pi,
  • and waving his hand in adieu to the now silent throng, cast upon me a
  • glance of mingled pity and reproach, and flung himself into the path which
  • led from the house. I watched his receding figure until it was lost in the
  • obscurity of the grove, and then gave myself up to the most desponding
  • reflections.
  • CHAPTER XVIII
  • Reflection after Marnoo’s departure—Battle of the pop-guns—Strange
  • conceit of Marheyo—Process of making tappa.
  • The knowledge I had now obtained as to the intention of the savages deeply
  • affected me.
  • Marnoo, I perceived, was a man who, by reason of his superior
  • acquirements, and the knowledge he possessed of the events which were
  • taking place in the different bays of the island, was held in no little
  • estimation by the inhabitants of the valley. He had been received with the
  • most cordial welcome and respect. The natives had hung upon the accents of
  • his voice, and had manifested the highest gratification at being
  • individually noticed by him. And yet, despite all this, a few words urged
  • in my behalf, with the intent of obtaining my release from captivity, had
  • sufficed not only to banish all harmony and good-will, but, if I could
  • believe what he told me, had gone nigh to endanger his own personal
  • safety.
  • How strongly rooted, then, must be the determination of the Typees with
  • regard to me, and how suddenly could they display the strangest passions!
  • The mere suggestion of my departure had estranged from me, for the time at
  • least, Mehevi, who was the most influential of all the chiefs, and who had
  • previously exhibited so many instances of his friendly sentiments. The
  • rest of the natives had likewise evinced their strong repugnance to my
  • wishes, and even Kory-Kory himself seemed to share in the general
  • disapprobation bestowed upon me.
  • In vain I racked my invention to find out some motive for the strange
  • desire these people manifested to retain me among them; but I could
  • discover none.
  • But however this might be, the scene which had just occurred admonished me
  • of the danger of trifling with the wayward and passionate spirits against
  • whom it was vain to struggle, and might even be fatal to do so. My only
  • hope was to induce the natives to believe that I was reconciled to my
  • detention in the valley, and by assuming a tranquil and cheerful
  • demeanour, to allay the suspicions which I had so unfortunately aroused.
  • Their confidence revived, they might in a short time remit in some degree
  • their watchfulness over my movements, and I should then be the better
  • enabled to avail myself of any opportunity which presented itself for
  • escape. I determined, therefore, to make the best of a bad bargain, and to
  • bear up manfully against whatever might betide. In this endeavour I
  • succeeded beyond my own expectations. At the period of Marnoo’s visit, I
  • had been in the valley, as nearly as I could conjecture, some two months.
  • Although not completely recovered from my strange illness, which still
  • lingered about me, I was free from pain and able to take exercise. In
  • short, I had every reason to anticipate a perfect recovery. Freed from
  • apprehensions on this point, and resolved to regard the future without
  • flinching, I flung myself anew into all the social pleasures of the
  • valley, and sought to bury all regrets, and all remembrances of my
  • previous existence, in the wild enjoyments it afforded.
  • In my various wanderings through the vale, and as I became better
  • acquainted with the character of its inhabitants, I was more and more
  • struck with the light-hearted joyousness that everywhere prevailed. The
  • minds of these simple savages, unoccupied by matters of graver moment,
  • were capable of deriving the utmost delight from circumstances which would
  • have passed unnoticed in more intelligent communities. All their
  • enjoyment, indeed, seemed to be made up of the little trifling incidents
  • of the passing hour; but these diminutive items swelled altogether to an
  • amount of happiness seldom experienced by more enlightened individuals,
  • whose pleasures are drawn from more elevated but rarer sources.
  • What community, for instance, of refined and intellectual mortals would
  • derive the least satisfaction from shooting pop-guns? The mere supposition
  • of such a thing being possible would excite their indignation, and yet the
  • whole population of Typee did little else for ten days but occupy
  • themselves with that childish amusement, fairly screaming, too, with the
  • delight it afforded them.
  • One day I was frolicking with a little spirited urchin, some six years
  • old, who chased me with a piece of bamboo about three feet long, with
  • which he occasionally belaboured me. Seizing the stick from him, the idea
  • happened to suggest itself, that I might make for the youngster, out of
  • the slender tube, one of those nursery muskets with which I had sometimes
  • seen children playing. Accordingly, with my knife, I made two parallel
  • slits in the cane several inches in length, and cutting loose at one end
  • the elastic strip between them, bent it back and slipped the point into a
  • little notch made for the purpose. Any small substance placed against this
  • would be projected with considerable force through the tube by merely
  • springing the bent strip out of the notch.
  • Had I possessed the remotest idea of the sensation this piece of ordnance
  • was destined to produce, I should certainly have taken out a patent for
  • the invention. The boy scampered away with it, half delirious with
  • ecstasy, and twenty minutes afterwards I might have been seen surrounded
  • by a noisy crowd—venerable old greybeards—responsible fathers of
  • families—valiant warriors—matrons—young men—girls and children, all
  • holding in their hands bits of bamboo, and each clamouring to be served
  • first.
  • For three or four hours I was engaged in manufacturing pop-guns, but at
  • last made over my good-will and interests in the concern to a lad of
  • remarkably quick parts, whom I soon initiated into the art and mystery.
  • Pop, Pop, Pop, Pop, now resounded all over the valley. Duels, skirmishes,
  • pitched battles, and general engagements were to be seen on every side.
  • Here, as you walked along a path which led through a thicket, you fell
  • into a cunningly-laid ambush, and became a target for a body of
  • musketeers, whose tattooed limbs you could just see peeping into view
  • through the foliage. There, you were assailed by the intrepid garrison of
  • a house, who levelled their bamboo rifles at you from between the upright
  • canes which composed its sides. Farther on, you were fired upon by a
  • detachment of sharpshooters, mounted upon the top of a pi-pi.
  • Pop, Pop, Pop, Pop! green guavas, seeds, and berries were flying about in
  • every direction, and during this dangerous state of affairs, I was half
  • afraid that, like the man and his brazen bull, I should fall a victim to
  • my own ingenuity. Like everything else, however, the excitement gradually
  • wore away, though ever after occasionally pop-guns might be heard at all
  • hours of the day.
  • It was towards the close of the pop-gun war, that I was infinitely
  • diverted with a strange freak of Marheyo’s.
  • I had worn, when I quitted the ship, a pair of thick pumps, which, from
  • the rough usage they had received in scaling precipices and sliding down
  • gorges, were so dilapidated as to be altogether unfit for use—so, at
  • least, would have thought the generality of people, and so they most
  • certainly were, when considered in the light of shoes. But things
  • unserviceable in one way, may with advantage be applied in another—that
  • is, if one has genius enough for the purpose. This genius Marheyo
  • possessed in a superlative degree, as he abundantly evinced by the use to
  • which he put these sorely bruised and battered old shoes.
  • Every article, however trivial, which belonged to me, the natives appeared
  • to regard as sacred; and I observed that for several days after becoming
  • an inmate of the house, my pumps were suffered to remain, untouched, where
  • I had first happened to throw them. I remembered, however, that after
  • awhile I had missed them from their accustomed place; but the matter gave
  • me no concern, supposing that Tinor—like any other tidy housewife, having
  • come across them in some of her domestic occupations—had pitched the
  • useless things out of the house. But I was soon undeceived.
  • One day I observed old Marheyo bustling about me with unusual activity,
  • and to such a degree as almost to supersede Kory-Kory in the functions of
  • his office. One moment he volunteered to trot off with me on his back to
  • the stream; and when I refused, noways daunted by the repulse, he
  • continued to frisk about me like a superannuated house-dog. I could not
  • for the life of me conjecture what possessed the old gentleman, until all
  • at once, availing himself of the temporary absence of the household, he
  • went through a variety of uncouth gestures, pointing eagerly down to my
  • feet, and then up to a little bundle which swung from the ridge-pole
  • overhead. At last I caught a faint idea of his meaning, and motioned him
  • to lower the package. He executed the order in the twinkling of an eye,
  • and unrolling a piece of tappa, displayed to my astonished gaze the
  • identical pumps which I thought had been destroyed long before.
  • I immediately comprehended his desire, and very generously gave him the
  • shoes, which had become quite mouldy, wondering for what earthly purpose
  • he could want them.
  • The same afternoon I descried the venerable warrior approaching the house,
  • with a slow, stately gait, earrings in ears, and spear in hand, with this
  • highly ornamental pair of shoes suspended from his neck by a strip of
  • bark, and swinging backwards and forwards on his capacious chest. In the
  • gala costume of the tasteful Marheyo, these calf-skin pendants ever after
  • formed the most striking feature.
  • But to turn to something a little more important. Although the whole
  • existence of the inhabitants of the valley seemed to pass away exempt from
  • toil, yet there were some light employments which, although amusing rather
  • than labourious as occupations, contributed to their comfort and luxury.
  • Among these, the most important was the manufacture of the native
  • cloth—“tappa”—so well known, under various modifications, throughout the
  • whole Polynesian Archipelago. As is generally understood, this useful and
  • sometimes elegant article is fabricated from the bark of different trees.
  • But, as I believe that no description of its manufacture has ever been
  • given, I shall state what I know regarding it.
  • In the manufacture of the beautiful white tappa generally worn on the
  • Marquesan Islands, the preliminary operation consists in gathering a
  • certain quantity of the young branches of the cloth-tree. The exterior
  • green bark being pulled off as worthless, there remains a slender fibrous
  • substance, which is carefully stripped from the stick, to which it closely
  • adheres. When a sufficient quantity of it has been collected, the various
  • strips are enveloped in a covering of large leaves, which the natives use
  • precisely as we do wrapping-paper, and which are secured by a few turns of
  • a line passed round them. The package is then laid in the bed of some
  • running stream, with a heavy stone placed over it, to prevent its being
  • swept away. After it has remained for two or three days in this state, it
  • is drawn out, and exposed for a short time to the action of the air, every
  • distinct piece being attentively inspected, with a view of ascertaining
  • whether it has yet been sufficiently affected by the operation. This is
  • repeated again and again, until the desired result is obtained.
  • When the substance is in a proper state for the next process, it betrays
  • evidences of incipient decomposition; the fibres are relaxed and softened,
  • and rendered perfectly malleable. The different strips are now extended,
  • one by one, in successive layers, upon some smooth surface—generally the
  • prostrate trunk of a cocoa-nut tree—and the heap thus formed is subjected,
  • at every new increase, to a moderate beating, with a sort of wooden
  • mallet, leisurely applied. The mallet is made of a hard heavy wood
  • resembling ebony, is about twelve inches in length, and perhaps two in
  • breadth, with a rounded handle at one end, and in shape is the exact
  • counterpart of one of our four-sided razor-strops. The flat surfaces of
  • the implement are marked with shallow parallel indentations, varying in
  • depth on the different sides, so as to be adapted to the several stages of
  • the operation. These marks produce the corduroy sort of stripes
  • descernible in the tappa in its finished state. After being beaten in the
  • manner I have described, the material soon becomes blended in one mass,
  • which, moistened occasionally with water, is at intervals hammered out, by
  • a kind of gold-beating process, to any degree of thinness required. In
  • this way the cloth is easily made to vary in strength and thickness, so as
  • to suit the numerous purposes to which it is applied.
  • When the operation last described has been concluded, the new-made tappa
  • is spread out on the grass to bleach and dry, and soon becomes of a
  • dazzling whiteness. Sometimes, in the first stages of the manufacture, the
  • substance is impregnated with a vegetable juice, which gives it a
  • permanent colour. A rich brown and a bright yellow are occasionally seen,
  • but the simple taste of the Typee people inclines them to prefer the
  • natural tint.
  • The notable wife of Kammahammaha, the renowned conqueror and king of the
  • Sandwich Islands, used to pride herself in the skill she displayed in
  • dyeing her tappa with contrasting colours disposed in regular figures;
  • and, in the midst of the innovations of the times, was regarded, towards
  • the decline of her life, as a lady of the old school, clinging as she did
  • to the national cloth, in preference to the frippery of the European
  • calicoes. But the art of printing the tappa is unknown upon the Marquesan
  • Islands.
  • In passing along the valley, I was often attracted by the noise of the
  • mallet, which, when employed in the manufacture of the cloth, produces at
  • every stroke of its hard, heavy wood, a clear, ringing, and musical sound,
  • capable of being heard at a great distance. When several of these
  • implements happen to be in operation at the same time, and near one
  • another, the effect upon the ear of a person, at a little distance, is
  • really charming.
  • CHAPTER XIX
  • History of a day as usually spent in the Typee valley—Dances of
  • the Marquesan girls.
  • Nothing can be more uniform and undiversified than the life of the Typees;
  • one tranquil day of ease and happiness follows another in quiet
  • succession; and with these unsophisticated savages the history of a day is
  • the history of a life. I will therefore, as briefly as I can, describe one
  • of our days in the valley.
  • To begin with the morning. We were not very early risers—the sun would be
  • shooting his golden spikes above the Happar mountain, ere I threw aside my
  • tappa robe, and girding my long tunic about my waist, sallied out with
  • Fayaway and Kory-Kory, and the rest of the household, and bent my steps
  • towards the stream. Here we found congregated all those who dwelt in our
  • section of the valley; and here we bathed with them. The fresh morning air
  • and the cool flowing waters put both soul and body in a glow, and after a
  • half-hour employed in this recreation, we sauntered back to the
  • house—Tinor and Marheyo gathering dry sticks by the way for firewood; some
  • of the young men laying the cocoa-nut trees under contribution as they
  • passed beneath them; while Kory-Kory played his outlandish pranks for my
  • particular diversion, and Fayaway and I, not arm in arm to be sure, but
  • sometimes hand in hand, strolled along, with feelings of perfect charity
  • for all the world, and especial good-will towards each other.
  • Our morning meal was soon prepared. The islanders are somewhat abstemious
  • at this repast; reserving the more powerful efforts of their appetite to a
  • later period of the day. For my own part, with the assistance of my valet,
  • who, as I have before stated, always officiated as spoon on these
  • occasions, I ate sparingly from one of Tinor’s trenchers of poee-poee;
  • which was devoted exclusively for my own use, being mixed with the milky
  • meat of ripe cocoa-nut. A section of a roasted bread-fruit, a small cake
  • of “Amar,” or a mess of “Kokoo,” two or three bananas, or a Mawmee apple;
  • an annuee, or some other agreeable and nutritious fruit, served from day
  • to day to diversify the meal, which was finished by tossing off the liquid
  • contents of a young cocoa-nut or two.
  • While partaking of this simple repast, the inmates of Marheyo’s house,
  • after the style of the ancient Romans, reclined in sociable groups upon
  • the divan of mats, and digestion was promoted by cheerful conversation.
  • After the morning meal was concluded, pipes were lighted; and among them
  • my own special pipe, a present from the noble Mehevi. The islanders, who
  • only smoke a whiff or two at a time, and at long intervals, and who keep
  • their pipes going from hand to hand continually, regarded my systematic
  • smoking of four or five pipefuls of tobacco in succession as something
  • quite wonderful. When two or three pipes had circulated freely, the
  • company gradually broke up. Marheyo went to the little hut he was for ever
  • building. Tinor began to inspect her rolls of tappa, or employed her busy
  • fingers in plaiting grass-mats. The girls anointed themselves with their
  • fragrant oils, dressed their hair, or looked over their curious finery,
  • and compared together their ivory trinkets, fashioned out of boar’s tusks
  • or whale’s teeth. The young men and warriors produced their spears,
  • paddles, canoe-gear, battle-clubs, and war-conchs, and occupied themselves
  • in carving all sorts of figures upon them with pointed bits of shell or
  • flint, and adorning them, especially the war-conchs, with tassels of
  • braided bark and tufts of human hair. Some, immediately after eating,
  • threw themselves once more upon the inviting mats, and resumed the
  • employment of the previous night, sleeping as soundly as if they had not
  • closed their eyes for a week. Others sallied out into the groves, for the
  • purpose of gathering fruit or fibres of bark and leaves; the last two
  • being in constant requisition, and applied to a hundred uses. A few,
  • perhaps, among the girls, would slip into the woods after flowers, or
  • repair to the stream with small calabashes and cocoa-nut shells, in order
  • to polish them by friction with a smooth stone in the water. In truth
  • these innocent people seemed to be at no loss for something to occupy
  • their time; and it would be no light task to enumerate all their
  • employments, or rather pleasures.
  • My own mornings I spent in a variety of ways. Sometimes I rambled about
  • from house to house, sure of receiving a cordial welcome wherever I went;
  • or, from grove to grove, and from one shady place to another, in company
  • with Kory-Kory and Fayaway, and a rabble rout of merry young idlers.
  • Sometimes I was too indolent for exercise, and, accepting one of the many
  • invitations I was continually receiving, stretched myself out on the mats
  • of some hospitable dwelling, and occupied myself pleasantly either in
  • watching the proceedings of those around me, or taking part in them
  • myself. Whenever I chose to do the latter, the delight of the islanders
  • was boundless; and there was always a throng of competitors for the honor
  • of instructing me in any particular craft. I soon became quite an
  • accomplished hand at making tappa—could braid a grass sling as well as the
  • best of them—and once, with my knife, carved the handle of a javelin so
  • exquisitely that I have no doubt, to this day, Karnoonoo, its owner,
  • preserves it as a surprising specimen of my skill. As noon approached, all
  • those who had wandered forth from our habitation began to return; and when
  • mid-day was fairly come, scarcely a sound was to be heard in the valley—a
  • deep sleep fell upon all. The luxurious siesta was hardly ever omitted,
  • except by old Marheyo, who was so eccentric a character, that he seemed to
  • be governed by no fixed principles whatever; but acting just according to
  • the humour of the moment, slept, eat, or tinkered away at his little hut,
  • without regard to the proprieties of time or place. Frequently he might
  • have been seen taking a nap in the sun at noon-day, or a bath in the
  • stream at midnight. Once I beheld him perched eighty feet from the ground,
  • in the tuft of a cocoa-nut tree, smoking; and often I saw him standing up
  • to the waist in water, engaged in plucking out the stray hairs of his
  • beard, using a piece of muscle-shell for tweezers.
  • The noontide slumber lasted generally an hour and a half, very often
  • longer; and after the sleepers had arisen from their mats they again had
  • recourse to their pipes, and then made preparations for the most important
  • meal of the day.
  • I, however, like those gentlemen of leisure who breakfast at home and dine
  • at their club, almost invariably, during my intervals of health, enjoyed
  • the afternoon repast with the bachelor chiefs of the Ti, who were always
  • rejoiced to see me, and lavishly spread before me all the good things
  • which their larder afforded. Mehevi generally produced, among other
  • dainties, a baked pig, an article which, I have every reason to suppose,
  • was provided for my sole gratification.
  • The Ti was a right jovial place. It did my heart, as well as my body, good
  • to visit it. Secure from female intrusion, there was no restraint upon the
  • hilarity of the warriors, who, like the gentlemen of Europe after the
  • cloth is drawn, and the ladies retire, freely indulged their mirth.
  • After spending a considerable portion of the afternoon at the Ti, I
  • usually found myself, as the cool of the evening came on, either sailing
  • on the little lake with Fayaway, or bathing in the waters of the stream
  • with a number of the savages, who, at this hour, always repaired thither.
  • As the shadows of night approached, Marheyo’s household were once more
  • assembled under his roof; tapers were lit, long and curious chants were
  • raised, interminable stories were told (for which one present was little
  • the wiser), and all sorts of social festivities served to while away the
  • time.
  • The young girls very often danced by moonlight in front of their
  • dwellings. There are a great variety of these dances, in which, however, I
  • never saw the men take part. They all consist of active, romping,
  • mischievous evolutions, in which every limb is brought into requisition.
  • Indeed, the Marquesan girls dance all over, as it were; not only do their
  • feet dance, but their arms, hands, fingers, ay, their very eyes seem to
  • dance in their heads.
  • The damsels wear nothing but flowers and their compendious gala tunics;
  • and when they plume themselves for the dance, one would almost think that
  • they were about to take wing.
  • Unless some particular festivity was going forward, the inmates of
  • Marheyo’s house retired to their mats rather early in the evening; but not
  • for the night, since after slumbering lightly for awhile, they rose again,
  • relit their tapers, partook of the third and last meal of the day, at
  • which poee-poee alone was eaten, and then, after inhaling a narcotic whiff
  • from a pipe of tobacco, disposed themselves for the great business of the
  • night—sleep. With the Marquesans it might almost be styled the great
  • business of life, for they pass a large portion of their time in the arms
  • of Somnus. The native strength of their constitution is no way shown more
  • emphatically than in the quantity of sleep they can endure. To many of
  • them, indeed, life is little else than an often interrupted and luxurious
  • nap.
  • CHAPTER XX
  • The spring of Arva Wai—Remarkable monumental remains—Some ideas
  • with regard to the history of the pi-pis found in the valley.
  • Almost every country has its medicinal springs famed for their healing
  • virtues. The Cheltenham of Typee is embosomed in the deepest solitude, and
  • but seldom receives a visitor. It is situated remote from any dwelling, a
  • little way up the mountain, near the head of the valley; and you approach
  • it by a pathway shaded by the most beautiful foliage, and adorned with a
  • thousand fragrant plants.
  • The mineral waters of Arva Wai(2) ooze forth from the crevices of a rock,
  • and gliding down its mossy side, fall at last, in many clustering drops,
  • into a natural basin of stone, fringed round with grass and dewy-looking
  • little violet-coloured flowers, as fresh and beautiful as the perpetual
  • moisture they enjoy can make them.
  • The water is held in high estimation by the islanders, some of whom
  • consider it an agreeable as well as a medicinal beverage; they bring it
  • from the mountain in their calabashes, and store it away beneath heaps of
  • leaves in some shady nook near the house. Old Marheyo had a great love for
  • the waters of the spring. Every now and then he lugged off to the mountain
  • a great round demijohn of a calabash, and, panting with his exertions,
  • brought it back filled with his darling fluid.
  • The water tasted like a solution of a dozen disagreeable things, and was
  • sufficiently nauseous to have made the fortune of the proprietor, had the
  • spa been situated in the midst of any civilized community.
  • As I am no chemist, I cannot give a scientific analysis of the water. All
  • I know about the matter is, that one day Marheyo in my presence poured out
  • the last drop from his huge calabash, and I observed at the bottom of the
  • vessel a small quantity of gravelly sediment very much resembling our
  • common sand. Whether this is always found in the water, and gives it its
  • peculiar flavour and virtues, or whether its presence was merely
  • incidental, I was not able to ascertain.
  • One day in returning from this spring by a circuitous path, I came upon a
  • scene which reminded me of Stonehenge and the architectural labours of the
  • Druid.
  • At the base of one of the mountains, and surrounded on all sides by dense
  • groves, a series of vast terraces of stone rises, step by step, for a
  • considerable distance up the hillside. These terraces cannot be less than
  • one hundred yards in length and twenty in width. Their magnitude, however,
  • is less striking than the immense size of the blocks composing them. Some
  • of the stones, of an oblong shape, are from ten to fifteen feet in length,
  • and five or six feet thick. Their sides are quite smooth, but though
  • square, and of pretty regular formation, they bear no mark of the chisel.
  • They are laid together without cement, and here and there show gaps
  • between. The topmost terrace and the lower one are somewhat peculiar in
  • their construction. They have both a quadrangular depression in the
  • centre, leaving the rest of the terrace elevated several feet above it. In
  • the intervals of the stones immense trees have taken root, and their broad
  • boughs stretching far over, and interlacing together, support a canopy
  • almost impenetrable to the sun. Overgrowing the greater part of them, and
  • climbing from one to another, is a wilderness of vines, in whose sinewy
  • embrace many of the stones lie half-hidden, while in some places a thick
  • growth of bushes entirely covers them. There is a wild pathway which
  • obliquely crosses two of these terraces; and so profound is the shade, so
  • dense the vegetation, that a stranger to the place might pass along it
  • without being aware of its existence.
  • These structures bear every indication of a very high antiquity, and
  • Kory-Kory, who was my authority in all matters of scientific research,
  • gave me to understand that they were coeval with the creation of the
  • world; that the great gods themselves were the builders; and that they
  • would endure until time shall be no more. Kory-Kory’s prompt explanation,
  • and his attributing the work to a divine origin, at once convinced me that
  • neither he nor the rest of his countrymen knew anything about them.
  • As I gazed upon this monument, doubtless the work of an extinct and
  • forgotten race, thus buried in the green nook of an island at the end of
  • the earth, the existence of which was yesterday unknown, a stronger
  • feeling of awe came over me than if I had stood musing at the mighty base
  • of the Pyramid of Cheops. There are no inscriptions, no sculpture, no
  • clue, by which to conjecture its history: nothing but the dumb stones. How
  • many generations of those majestic trees which overshadow them have grown
  • and flourished and decayed since first they were erected!
  • These remains naturally suggest many interesting reflections. They
  • establish the great age of the island, an opinion which the builders of
  • theories concerning the creation of the various groups in the South Seas
  • are not always inclined to admit. For my own part I think it just as
  • probable that human beings were living in the valleys of the Marquesas
  • three thousand years ago as that they were inhabiting the land of Egypt.
  • The origin of the island of Nukuheva cannot be imputed to the coral
  • insect: for indefatigable as that wonderful creature is, it would be
  • hardly muscular enough to pile rocks one upon the other more than three
  • thousand feet above the level of the sea. That the land may have been
  • thrown up by a submarine volcano is as possible as anything else. No one
  • can make an affidavit to the contrary, and therefore I will say nothing
  • against the supposition: indeed, were geologists to assert that the whole
  • continent of America had in like manner been formed by the simultaneous
  • explosion of a train of Etnas, laid under the water all the way from the
  • North Pole to the parallel of Cape Horn, I am the last man in the world to
  • contradict them.
  • I have already mentioned that the dwellings of the islanders were almost
  • invariably built upon massive stone foundations, which they call pi-pis.
  • The dimensions of these, however, as well as of the stones composing them,
  • are comparatively small: but there are other and larger erections of a
  • similar description comprising the “morais,” or burying-grounds, and
  • festival-places, in nearly all the valleys of the island. Some of these
  • piles are so extensive, and so great a degree of labour and skill must
  • have been requisite in constructing them, that I can scarcely believe they
  • were built by the ancestors of the present inhabitants. If indeed they
  • were, the race has sadly deteriorated in their knowledge of the mechanic
  • arts. To say nothing of their habitual indolence, by what contrivance
  • within the reach of so simple a people could such enormous masses have
  • been moved or fixed in their places? and how could they with their rude
  • implements have chiselled and hammered them into shape?
  • All of these larger pi-pis—like that of the Hoolah Hoolah ground in the
  • Typee valley—bore incontestable marks of great age; and I am disposed to
  • believe that their erection may be ascribed to the same race of men who
  • were the builders of the still more ancient remains I have just described.
  • According to Kory-Kory’s account, the pi-pi, upon which stands the Hoolah
  • Hoolah ground, was built a great many moons ago, under the direction of
  • Monoo, a great chief and warrior, and, as it would appear, master-mason
  • among the Typees. It was erected for the express purpose to which it is at
  • present devoted, in the incredibly short period of one sun; and was
  • dedicated to the immortal wooden idols by a grand festival, which lasted
  • ten days and nights.
  • Among the smaller pi-pis, upon which stand the dwelling-houses of the
  • natives, I never observed any which intimated a recent erection. There are
  • in every part of the valley a great many of these massive stone
  • foundations which have no houses upon them. This is vastly convenient, for
  • whenever an enterprising islander chooses to emigrate a few hundred yards
  • from the place where he was born, all he has to do in order to establish
  • himself in some new locality, is to select one of the many unappropriated
  • pi-pis, and without further ceremony pitch his bamboo tent upon it.
  • CHAPTER XXI
  • Preparations for a grand festival in the valley—Strange doings in
  • the Taboo Groves—Monument of Calabashes—Gala costume of the Typee
  • damsels—Departure for the festival.
  • From the time that my lameness had decreased I had made a daily practice
  • of visiting Mehevi at the Ti, who invariably gave me a most cordial
  • reception. I was always accompanied in these excursions by Fayaway and the
  • ever-present Kory-Kory. The former, as soon as we reached the vicinity of
  • the Ti—which was rigorously tabooed to the whole female sex—withdrew to a
  • neighbouring hut, as if her feminine delicacy restrained her from
  • approaching a habitation which might be regarded as a sort of Bachelor’s
  • Hall.
  • And in good truth it might well have been so considered. Although it was
  • the permanent residence of several distinguished chiefs, and of the noble
  • Mehevi in particular, it was still at certain seasons the favourite haunt
  • of all the jolly, talkative, and elderly savages of the vale, who resorted
  • thither in the same way that similar characters frequent a tavern in
  • civilized countries. There they would remain hour after hour, chatting,
  • smoking, eating poee-poee, or busily engaged in sleeping for the good of
  • their constitutions.
  • This building appeared to be the headquarters of the valley, where all
  • flying rumours concentrated; and to have seen it filled with a crowd of
  • the natives, all males, conversing in animated clusters, while multitudes
  • were continually coming and going, one would have thought it a kind of
  • savage exchange, where the rise and fall of Polynesian Stock was
  • discussed.
  • Mehevi acted as supreme lord over the place, spending the greater portion
  • of his time there: and often when, at particular hours of the day, it was
  • deserted by nearly every one else except the verd-antique looking
  • centenarians, who were fixtures in the building, the chief himself was
  • sure to be found enjoying his “otium cum dignitate” upon the luxurious
  • mats which covered the floor. Whenever I made my appearance he invariably
  • rose, and, like a gentleman doing the honours of his mansion, invited me
  • to repose myself wherever I pleased, and calling out “tammaree!” (boy), a
  • little fellow would appear, and then retiring for an instant, return with
  • some savoury mess, from which the chief would press me to regale myself.
  • To tell the truth, Mehevi was indebted to the excellence of his viands for
  • the honour of my repeated visits,—a matter which cannot appear singular,
  • when it is borne in mind that bachelors, all the world over, are famous
  • for serving up unexceptional repasts.
  • One day, on drawing near to the Ti, I observed that extensive preparations
  • were going forward, plainly betokening some approaching festival. Some of
  • the symptoms reminded me of the stir produced among the scullions of a
  • large hotel, where a grand jubilee dinner is about to be given. The
  • natives were hurrying about hither and thither, engaged in various duties;
  • some lugging off to the stream enormous hollow bamboos, for the purpose of
  • filling them with water; others chasing furious-looking hogs through the
  • bushes, in their endeavours to capture them; and numbers employed in
  • kneading great mountains of poee-poee heaped up in huge wooden vessels.
  • After observing these lively indications for awhile, I was attracted to a
  • neighbouring grove by a prodigious squeaking which I heard there. On
  • reaching the spot I found it proceeded from a large hog which a number of
  • natives were forcibly holding to the earth, while a muscular fellow, armed
  • with a bludgeon, was ineffectually aiming murderous blows at the skull of
  • the unfortunate porker. Again and again he missed his writhing and
  • struggling victim, but though puffing and panting with his exertions, he
  • still continued them; and after striking a sufficient number of blows to
  • have demolished an entire drove of oxen, with one crashing stroke he laid
  • him dead at his feet.
  • Without letting any blood from the body, it was immediately carried to a
  • fire which had been kindled near at hand, and four savages taking hold of
  • the carcass by its legs, passed it rapidly to and fro in the flames. In a
  • moment the smell of burning bristles betrayed the object of this
  • procedure. Having got thus far in the matter, the body was removed to a
  • little distance; and, being disembowelled, the entrails were laid aside as
  • choice parts, and the whole carcass thoroughly washed with water. An ample
  • thick green cloth, composed of the long thick leaves of a species of palm
  • tree, ingeniously tacked together with little pins of bamboo, was now
  • spread upon the ground, in which the body being carefully rolled, it was
  • borne to an oven previously prepared to receive it. Here it was at once
  • laid upon the heated stones at the bottom, and covered with thick layers
  • of leaves, the whole being quickly hidden from sight by a mound of earth
  • raised over it.
  • Such is the summary style in which the Typees convert perverse-minded and
  • rebellious hogs into the most docile and amiable pork; a morsel of which
  • placed on the tongue melts like a soft smile from the lips of beauty.
  • I commend their peculiar mode of proceeding to the consideration of all
  • butchers, cooks, and housewives. The hapless porker whose fate I have just
  • rehearsed, was not the only one who suffered on that memorable day. Many a
  • dismal grunt, many an imploring squeak, proclaimed what was going on
  • throughout the whole extent of the valley: and I verily believe the
  • first-born of every litter perished before the setting of that fatal sun.
  • The scene around the Ti was now most animated. Hogs and poee-poee were
  • baking in numerous ovens, which, heaped up with fresh earth into slight
  • elevations, looked like so many ant-hills. Scores of the savages were
  • vigorously plying their stone pestles in preparing masses of poee-poee,
  • and numbers were gathering green bread-fruit and young cocoa-nuts in the
  • surrounding groves; while an exceeding great multitude, with a view of
  • encouraging the rest in their labours, stood still, and kept shouting most
  • lustily without intermission.
  • It is a peculiarity among these people, that when engaged in any
  • employment they always make a prodigious fuss about it. So seldom do they
  • ever exert themselves, that when they do work they seem determined that so
  • meritorious an action shall not escape the observation of those around.
  • If, for example, they have occasion to remove a stone to a little
  • distance, which perhaps might be carried by two able-bodied men, a whole
  • swarm gather about it, and, after a vast deal of palavering, lift it up
  • among them, every one struggling to get hold of it, and bear it off
  • yelling and panting as if accomplishing some mighty achievement. Seeing
  • them on these occasions, one is reminded of an infinity of black ants
  • clustering about and dragging away to some hole the leg of a deceased fly.
  • Having for some time attentively observed these demonstrations of good
  • cheer, I entered the Ti, where Mehevi sat complacently looking out upon
  • the busy scene, and occasionally issuing his orders. The chief appeared to
  • be in an extraordinary flow of spirits, and gave me to understand that on
  • the morrow there would be grand doings in the groves generally, and at the
  • Ti in particular; and urged me by no means to absent himself. In
  • commemoration of what event, however, or in honour of what distinguished
  • personage, the feast was to be given, altogether passed my comprehension.
  • Mehevi sought to enlighten my ignorance, but he failed as signally as when
  • he had endeavoured to initiate me into the perplexing arcana of the taboo.
  • On leaving the Ti, Kory-Kory, who had, as a matter of course, accompanied
  • me, observing that my curiosity remained unabated, resolved to make
  • everything plain and satisfactory. With this intent, he escorted me
  • through the Taboo Groves, pointing out to my notice a variety of objects,
  • and endeavoured to explain them in such an indescribable jargon of words,
  • that it almost put me in bodily pain to listen to him. In particular, he
  • led me to a remarkable pyramidical structure some three yards square at
  • the base, and perhaps ten feet in height, which had lately been thrown up,
  • and occupied a very conspicuous position. It was composed principally of
  • large empty calabashes, with a few polished cocoa-nut shells, and looked
  • not unlike a cenotaph of skulls. My cicerone perceived the astonishment
  • with which I gazed at this monument of savage crockery, and immediately
  • addressed himself to the task of enlightening me: but all in vain; and to
  • this hour the nature of the monument remains a complete mystery to me. As,
  • however, it formed so prominent a feature in the approaching revels, I
  • bestowed upon the latter, in my own mind, the title of the “Feast of
  • Calabashes.”
  • [Illustration: THUS ARRAYED, I WOULD HAVE MATCHED THE CHARMING FAYAWAY
  • AGAINST ANY BEAUTY IN THE WORLD]
  • The following morning, awakening rather late, I perceived the whole of
  • Marheyo’s family busily engaged in preparing for the festival. The old
  • warrior himself was arranging in round balls the two grey locks of hair
  • that were suffered to grow from the crown of his head; his earrings and
  • spear, both well polished, lay beside him, while the highly decorative
  • pair of shoes hung suspended from a projecting cane against the side of
  • the house. The young men were similarly employed; and the fair damsels,
  • including Fayaway, were anointing themselves with “aka,” arranging their
  • long tresses, and performing other matters connected with the duties of
  • the toilet.
  • Having completed their preparations, the girls now exhibited themselves in
  • gala costume; the most conspicuous feature of which was a necklace of
  • beautiful white flowers, with the stems removed, and strung closely
  • together upon a single fibre of tappa. Corresponding ornaments were
  • inserted in their ears, and woven garlands upon their heads. About their
  • waist they wore a short tunic of spotless white tappa, and some of them
  • superadded to this a mantle of the same material, tied in an elaborate bow
  • upon the left shoulder, and falling about the figure in picturesque folds.
  • Thus arrayed, I would have matched the charming Fayaway against any beauty
  • in the world.
  • People may say what they will about the taste evinced by our fashionable
  • ladies in dress. Their jewels, their feathers, their silks and their
  • furbelows would have sunk into utter insignificance beside the exquisite
  • simplicity of attire adopted by the nymphs of the vale on this festive
  • occasion. I should like to have seen a gallery of coronation beauties, at
  • Westminster Abbey, confronted for a moment by this band of Island girls;
  • their stiffness, formality, and affectation contrasted with the artless
  • vivacity and unconcealed natural graces of these savage maidens. It would
  • be the Venus de Medici placed beside a milliner’s doll.
  • It was not long before Kory-Kory and myself were left alone in the house,
  • the rest of its inmates having departed for the Taboo Groves. My valet was
  • all impatience to follow them; and was as fidgety about my dilatory
  • movements as a diner out waiting hat in hand at the bottom of the stairs
  • for some lagging companion. At last, yielding to his importunities, I set
  • out for the Ti. As we passed the houses peeping out from the groves
  • through which our route lay, I noticed that they were entirely deserted by
  • their inhabitants.
  • When we reached the rock that abruptly terminated the path, and concealed
  • from us the festive scene, wild shouts and a confused blending of voices
  • assured me that the occasion, whatever it might be, had drawn together a
  • great multitude. Kory-Kory, previous to mounting the elevation, paused for
  • a moment, like a dandy at a ball-room door, to put a hasty finish to his
  • toilet. During this short interval, the thought struck me that I ought
  • myself perhaps to be taking some little pains with my appearance. But as I
  • had no holiday raiment, I was not a little puzzled to devise some means of
  • decorating myself. However, as I felt desirous to create a sensation, I
  • determined to do all that lay in my power; and knowing that I could not
  • delight the savages more than by conforming to their style of dress, I
  • removed from my person the large robe of tappa which I was accustomed to
  • wear over my shoulders whenever I sallied into the open air, and remained
  • merely girt about with a short tunic descending from my waist to my knees.
  • My quick-witted attendant fully appreciated the compliment I was paying to
  • the costume of his race, and began more sedulously to arrange the folds of
  • the one only garment which remained to me. Whilst he was doing this, I
  • caught sight of a knot of young girls, who were sitting near us on the
  • grass surrounded by heaps of flowers, which they were forming into
  • garlands. I motioned to them to bring some of their handy-work to me; and
  • in an instant a dozen wreaths were at my disposal. One of them I put round
  • the apology for a hat which I had been forced to construct for myself out
  • of palmetto-leaves, and some of the others I converted into a splendid
  • girdle. These operations finished, with a slow and dignified step of a
  • full-dressed beau I ascended the rock.
  • CHAPTER XXII
  • The Feast of Calabashes.
  • The whole population of the valley seemed to be gathered within the
  • precincts of the grove. In the distance could be seen the long front of
  • the Ti, its immense piazza swarming with men, arrayed in every variety of
  • fantastic costume, and all vociferating with animated gestures; while the
  • whole interval between it and the place where I stood was enlivened by
  • groups of females fancifully decorated, dancing, capering, and uttering
  • wild exclamations. As soon as they descried me they set up a shout of
  • welcome; and a band of them came dancing towards me, chanting as they
  • approached some wild recitative. The change in my garb seemed to transport
  • them with delight, and clustering about me on all sides, they accompanied
  • me towards the Ti. When, however, we drew near it, these joyous nymphs
  • paused in their career, and parting on either side, permitted me to pass
  • on to the now densely thronged building.
  • So soon as I mounted to the pi-pi I saw at a glance that the revels were
  • fairly under way.
  • What lavish plenty reigned around!—Warwick feasting his retainers with
  • beef and ale, was a niggard to the noble Mehevi!—All along the piazza of
  • the Ti were arranged elaborately-carved canoe-shaped vessels, some twenty
  • feet in length, filled with newly-made poee-poee, and sheltered from the
  • sun by the broad leaves of the banana. At intervals were heaps of green
  • bread-fruit, raised in pyramidical stacks, resembling the regular piles of
  • heavy shot to be seen in the yard of an arsenal. Inserted into the
  • interstices of the huge stones which formed the pi-pi were large boughs of
  • trees; hanging from the branches of which, and screened from the sun by
  • their foliage, were innumerable little packages with leafy coverings
  • containing the meat of the numerous hogs which had been slain, done up in
  • this manner to make it more accessible to the crowd. Leaning against the
  • railing of the piazza were an immense number of long, heavy bamboos,
  • plugged at the lower end, and with their projecting muzzles stuffed with a
  • wad of leaves. These were filled with water from the stream, and each of
  • them might hold from four to five gallons.
  • The banquet being thus spread, nought remained but for every one to help
  • himself at his pleasure. Accordingly, not a moment passed but the
  • transplanted boughs I have mentioned were rifled by the throng of the
  • fruit they certainly had never borne before. Calabashes of poee-poee were
  • continually being replenished from the extensive receptacle in which that
  • article was stored, and multitudes of little fires were kindled about the
  • Ti for the purpose of roasting the bread-fruit.
  • Within the building itself was presented a most extraordinary scene. The
  • immense lounge of mats lying between the parallel rows of the trunks of
  • cocoa-nut trees, and extending the entire length of the house, at least
  • two hundred feet, was covered by the reclining forms of a host of chiefs
  • and warriors, who were eating at a great rate, or soothing the cares of
  • Polynesian life in the sedative fumes of tobacco. The smoke was inhaled
  • from large pipes, the bowls of which, made out of small cocoa-nut shells,
  • were curiously carved in strange heathenish devices. These were passed
  • from mouth to mouth by the recumbent smokers, each of whom, taking two or
  • three prodigious whiffs, handed the pipe to his neighbour; sometimes for
  • that purpose stretching indolently across the body of some dozing
  • individual whose exertions at the dinner-table had already induced sleep.
  • The tobacco used among the Typees was of a very mild and pleasing flavour,
  • and as I always saw it in leaves, and the natives appeared pretty well
  • supplied with it, I was led to believe that it must have been the growth
  • of the valley. Indeed Kory-Kory gave me to understand that this was the
  • case; but I never saw a single plant growing on the island. At Nukuheva,
  • and I believe, in all the other valleys, the weed is very scarce, being
  • only obtained in small quantities from foreigners, and smoking is
  • consequently with the inhabitants of these places a very great luxury. How
  • it was that the Typees were so well furnished with it I cannot divine. I
  • should think them too indolent to devote any attention to its culture;
  • and, indeed, as far as my observation extended not a single atom of the
  • soil was under any other cultivation than that of shower and sunshine. The
  • tobacco-plant, however, like the sugar-cane, may grow wild in some remote
  • part of the vale.
  • There were many in the Ti for whom the tobacco did not furnish a
  • sufficient stimulus, and who accordingly had recourse to “arva,” as a more
  • powerful agent in producing the desired effect.
  • “Arva” is a root very generally dispersed over the South Seas, and from it
  • is extracted a juice, the effects of which upon the system are at first
  • stimulating in a moderate degree; but it soon relaxes the muscles, and,
  • exerting a narcotic influence, produces a luxurious sleep. In the valley
  • this beverage was universally prepared in the following way:—Some
  • half-dozen young boys seated themselves in a circle around an empty wooden
  • vessel, each one of them being supplied with a certain quantity of the
  • roots of the “arva,” broken into small bits and laid by his side. A
  • cocoa-nut goblet of water was passed around the juvenile company, who
  • rinsing their mouth with its contents, proceeded to the business before
  • them. This merely consisted in thoroughly masticating the “arva,” and
  • throwing it mouthful after mouthful into the receptacle provided. When a
  • sufficient quantity had been thus obtained, water was poured upon the
  • mass, and being stirred about with the forefinger of the right hand, the
  • preparation was soon in readiness for use. The “arva” has medicinal
  • qualities.
  • Upon the Sandwich Islands it has been employed with no small success in
  • the treatment of scrofulous affections, and in combating the ravages of a
  • disease which for so many years has been gradually depopulating those fine
  • and interesting islands. But the tenants of the Typee valley, as yet
  • exempt from these inflictions, generally employ the “arva” as a minister
  • to social enjoyment, and a calabash of the liquid circulates among them as
  • the bottle with us.
  • Mehevi, who was greatly delighted with the change in my costume, gave me a
  • cordial welcome. He had reserved for me a most delectable mess of
  • “cockoo,” well knowing my partiality for that dish; and had likewise
  • selected three or four young cocoa-nuts, several roasted bread-fruit, and
  • a magnificent bunch of bananas, for my especial comfort and gratification.
  • These various matters were at once placed before me; but Kory-Kory deemed
  • the banquet entirely insufficient for my wants until he had supplied me
  • with one of the leafy packages of pork, which, notwithstanding the
  • somewhat hasty manner in which it had been prepared, possessed a most
  • excellent flavour, and was surprisingly sweet and tender.
  • Pork is not a staple article of food among the people of the Marquesas,
  • consequently they pay little attention to the breeding of the swine. The
  • hogs are permitted to roam at large in the groves, where they obtain no
  • small portion of their nourishment from the cocoa-nuts which continually
  • fall from the trees. But it is only after infinite labour and difficulty,
  • that the hungry animal can pierce the husk and shell so as to get at the
  • meat. I have frequently been amused at seeing one of them, after crunching
  • the obstinate nut with his teeth for a long time unsuccessfully, get into
  • a violent passion with it. He would then root furiously under the
  • cocoa-nut, and, with a fling of his snout, toss it before him on the
  • ground. Following it up, he would crunch at it again savagely for a
  • moment, and the next knock it on one side, pausing immediately after, as
  • if wondering how it could so suddenly have disappeared. In this way the
  • persecuted cocoa-nuts were often chased half across the valley.
  • The second day of the Feast of Calabashes was ushered in by still more
  • uproarious noises than the first. The skins of innumerable sheep seemed to
  • be resounding to the blows of an army of drummers. Startled from my
  • slumbers by the din, I leaped up, and found the whole household engaged in
  • making preparations for immediate departure. Curious to discover of what
  • strange events these novel sounds might be the precursors, and not a
  • little desirous to catch a sight of the instruments which produced the
  • terrific noise, I accompanied the natives as soon as they were in
  • readiness to depart for the Taboo Groves.
  • The comparatively open space that extended from the Ti toward the rock, to
  • which I have before alluded as forming the ascent to the place, was, with
  • the building itself, now altogether deserted by the men; the whole
  • distance being filled by bands of females, shouting and dancing under the
  • influence of some strange excitement.
  • I was amused at the appearance of four or five old women, who in a state
  • of utter nudity, with their arms extended flatly down their side, and
  • holding themselves perfectly erect, were leaping stiffly into the air,
  • like so many sticks bobbing to the surface, after being pressed
  • perpendicularly into the water. They preserved the utmost gravity of
  • countenance, and continued their extraordinary movements without a single
  • moment’s cessation. They did not appear to attract the observation of the
  • crowd around them, but I must candidly confess that, for my own part, I
  • stared at them most pertinaciously.
  • Desirous of being enlightened in regard to the meaning of this peculiar
  • diversion, I turned inquiringly to Kory-Kory: that learned Typee
  • immediately proceeded to explain the whole matter thoroughly. But all that
  • I could comprehend from what he said was, that the leaping figures before
  • me were bereaved widows, whose partners had been slain in battle many
  • moons previously; and who, at every festival, gave public evidence in this
  • manner of their calamities. It was evident that Kory-Kory considered this
  • an all-sufficient reason for so indecorous a custom; but I must say that
  • it did not satisfy me as to its propriety.
  • Leaving these afflicted females, we passed on to the Hoolah Hoolah ground.
  • Within the spacious quadrangle, the whole population of the valley seemed
  • to be assembled, and the sight presented was truly remarkable. Beneath the
  • sheds of bamboo which opened towards the interior of the square, reclined
  • the principal chiefs and warriors, while a miscellaneous throng lay at
  • their ease under the enormous trees, which spread a majestic canopy
  • overhead. Upon the terraces of the gigantic altars, at either end, were
  • deposited green bread-fruit in baskets of cocoa-nut leaves, large rolls of
  • tappa, bunches of white bananas, clusters of mammee-apples, the
  • golden-hued fruit of the artu tree, and baked hogs, laid out in large
  • wooden trenchers, fancifully decorated with freshly-plucked leaves, whilst
  • a variety of rude implements of war were piled in confused heaps before
  • the ranks of hideous idols. Fruits of various kinds were likewise
  • suspended in leafen baskets, from the tops of poles planted uprightly, and
  • at regular intervals, along the lower terraces of both altars. At their
  • base were arranged two parallel rows of cumbersome drums, standing at
  • least fifteen feet in height, and formed from the hollow trunks of large
  • trees. Their heads were covered with shark skins, and their barrels were
  • elaborately carved with various quaint figures and devices. At regular
  • intervals, they were bound round by a species of sinnate of various
  • colours, and strips of native cloth flattened upon them here and there.
  • Behind these instruments were built slight platforms, upon which stood a
  • number of young men, who, beating violently with the palms of their hands
  • upon the drum-heads, produced those outrageous sounds which had awakened
  • me in the morning. Every few minutes these musical performers hopped down
  • from their elevation into the crowd below, and their places were
  • immediately supplied by fresh recruits. Thus an incessant din was kept up
  • that might have startled Pandemonium.
  • Precisely in the middle of the quadrangle were placed perpendicularly in
  • the ground a hundred or more slender, fresh-cut poles, stripped of their
  • bark, and decorated at the end with a floating pennon of white tappa, the
  • whole being fenced about with a little picket of canes. For what purpose
  • these singular ornaments were intended, I in vain endeavoured to discover.
  • Another most striking feature of the performance was exhibited by a score
  • of old men, who sat cross-legged in the little pulpits, which encircled
  • the trunks of the immense trees growing in the middle of the enclosure.
  • These venerable gentlemen, who I presume were the priests, kept up an
  • uninterrupted monotonous chant, which was nearly drowned in the roar of
  • drums. In the right hand they held a finely-woven grass fan, with a heavy
  • black wooden handle, curiously chased: these fans they kept in continual
  • motion.
  • But no attention whatever seemed to be paid to the drummers or to the old
  • priests, the individuals who composed the vast crowd present being
  • entirely taken up in chatting and laughing with one another, smoking,
  • drinking arva, and eating. For all the observation it attracted, or the
  • good it achieved, the whole savage orchestra might, with great advantage
  • to its own members and the company in general, have ceased the prodigious
  • uproar they were making.
  • In vain I questioned Kory-Kory and others of the natives, as to the
  • meaning of the strange things that were going on; all their explanations
  • were conveyed in such a mass of outlandish gibberish and gesticulation
  • that I gave up the attempt in despair. All that day the drums resounded,
  • the priests chanted, and the multitude feasted and roared till sunset,
  • when the throng dispersed, and the Taboo Groves were again abandoned to
  • quiet and repose. The next day the same scene was repeated until night,
  • when this singular festival terminated.
  • CHAPTER XXIII
  • Ideas suggested by the Feast of Calabashes—Effigy of a dead
  • warrior—A singular superstition—The priest Kolory and the god Moa
  • Artua—Amazing religious observance—A dilapidated shrine—Kory-Kory
  • and the idol—An inference.
  • Although I had been baffled in my attempts to learn the origin of the
  • Feast of Calabashes, yet it seemed very plain to me that it was
  • principally, if not wholly, of a religious character.
  • Yet, notwithstanding all I observed on this occasion, I am free to confess
  • my almost entire inability to gratify any curiosity that may be felt with
  • regard to the theology of the valley. I doubt whether the inhabitants
  • themselves could do so. They are either too lazy or too sensible to worry
  • themselves about abstract points of religious belief. While I was among
  • them, they never held any synods or councils to settle the principles of
  • their faith by agitating them. An unbounded liberty of conscience seemed
  • to prevail. Those who pleased to do so were allowed to repose implicit
  • faith in an ill-favoured god, with a large bottle-nose, and fat shapeless
  • arms crossed upon his breast; whilst others worshipped an image which,
  • having no likeness either in heaven or on earth, could hardly be called an
  • idol. As the islanders always maintained a discreet reserve with regard to
  • my own peculiar views on religion, I thought it would be excessively
  • ill-bred in me to pry into theirs.
  • But, although my knowledge of the religious faith of the Typees was
  • unavoidably limited, one of their superstitious observances with which I
  • became acquainted interested me greatly.
  • In one of the most secluded portions of the valley, within a stone’s cast
  • of Fayaway’s lake—for so I christened the scene of our island yachting—and
  • hard by a growth of palms, which stood ranged in order along both banks of
  • the stream, waving their green arms as if to do honour to its passage, was
  • the mausoleum of a deceased warrior-chief. Like all the other edifices of
  • any note, it was raised upon a small pi-pi of stones, which, being of
  • unusual height, was a conspicuous object from a distance. A light
  • thatching of bleached palmetto-leaves hung over it like a self-supported
  • canopy; for it was not until you came very near that you saw it was
  • supported by four slender columns of bamboo, rising at each corner to a
  • little more than the height of a man. A clear area of a few yards
  • surrounded the pi-pi, and was enclosed by four trunks of cocoa-nut trees,
  • resting at the angles on massive blocks of stone. The place was sacred.
  • The sign of the inscrutable Taboo was seen, in the shape of a mystic roll
  • of white tappa, suspended by a twisted cord of the same material from the
  • top of a slight pole planted within the enclosure.(3) The sanctity of the
  • spot appeared never to have been violated. The stillness of the grave was
  • there, and the calm solitude around was beautiful and touching. The soft
  • shadows of those lofty palm trees—I can see them now—hanging over the
  • little temple, as if to keep out the intrusive sun.
  • On all sides, as you approached this silent spot, you caught sight of the
  • dead chief’s effigy, seated in the stern of a canoe, which was raised on a
  • light frame a few inches above the level of the pi-pi. The canoe was about
  • seven feet in length; of a rich, dark-coloured wood, handsomely carved,
  • and adorned in many places with variegated bindings of stained sinnate,
  • into which were ingeniously wrought a number of sparkling sea-shells, and
  • a belt of the same shells ran all round it. The body of the figure—of
  • whatever material it might have been made—was effectually concealed in a
  • heavy robe of brown tappa, revealing only the hands and head; the latter
  • skilfully carved in wood, and surmounted by a superb arch of plumes. These
  • plumes, in the subdued and gentle gales which found access to this
  • sequestered spot, were never for one moment at rest, but kept nodding and
  • waving over the chief’s brow. The long leaves of the palmetto dropped over
  • the eaves, and through them you saw the warrior, holding his paddle with
  • both hands in the act of rowing, leaning forward and inclining his head,
  • as if eager to hurry on his voyage. Glaring at him for ever, and face to
  • face, was a polished human skull, which crowned the prow of the canoe. The
  • spectral figure-head, reversed in its position, glancing backwards, seemed
  • to mock the impatient attitude of the warrior.
  • When I first visited this singular place with Kory-Kory, he told me—or, at
  • least, I so understood him—that the chief was paddling his way to the
  • realms of bliss and bread-fruit—the Polynesian heaven—where every moment
  • the bread-fruit trees dropped their ripened spheres to the ground, and
  • where there was no end to the cocoa-nuts and bananas; there they reposed
  • through the live-long eternity upon mats much finer than those of Typee;
  • and every day bathed their glowing limbs in rivers of cocoa-nut oil. In
  • that happy land there were plenty of plumes and feathers, and boars’-tusks
  • and sperm-whale teeth, far preferable to all the shining trinkets and gay
  • tappa of the white men; and, best of all, women, far lovelier than the
  • daughters of earth, were there in abundance. “A very pleasant place,”
  • Kory-Kory said it was; “but, after all, not much pleasanter, he thought,
  • than Typee.” “Did he not, then,” I asked him, “wish to accompany the
  • warrior?” “Oh, no; he was very happy where he was; but supposed that some
  • time or other he would go in his own canoe.”
  • Thus far, I think, I clearly comprehended Kory-Kory. But there was a
  • singular expression he made use of at the time, enforced by as singular a
  • gesture, the meaning of which I would have given much to penetrate. I am
  • inclined to believe it must have been a proverb he uttered; for I
  • afterwards heard him repeat the same words several times, and in what
  • appeared to me to be a somewhat similar sense. Indeed, Kory-Kory had a
  • great variety of short, smart-sounding sentences, with which he frequently
  • enlivened his discourse; and he introduced them with an air which plainly
  • intimated, that, in his opinion, they settled the matter in question,
  • whatever it might be.
  • Could it have been, then, that when I asked him whether he desired to go
  • to this heaven of bread-fruit, cocoa-nuts, and young ladies, which he had
  • been describing, he answered by saying something equivalent to our old
  • adage—“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush!”—if he did, Kory-Kory
  • was a discreet and sensible fellow, and I cannot sufficiently admire his
  • shrewdness.
  • Whenever, in the course of my rambles through the valley, I happened to be
  • near the chief’s mausoleum, I always turned aside to visit it. The place
  • had a peculiar charm for me; I hardly know why, but so it was. As I leaned
  • over the railing and gazed upon the strange effigy, and watched the play
  • of the feathery head-dress, stirred by the same breeze which in low tones
  • breathed amidst the lofty palm trees, I loved to yield myself up to the
  • fanciful superstition of the islanders, and could almost believe that the
  • grim warrior was bound heavenward. In this mood, when I turned to depart,
  • I bade him, “God speed, and a pleasant voyage.” Ay, paddle away, brave
  • chieftain, to the land of spirits! To the material eye thou makest but
  • little progress, but, with the eye of faith, I see thy canoe cleaving the
  • bright waves, which die away on those dimly looming shores of Paradise.
  • This strange superstition affords another evidence of the fact, that
  • however ignorant man may be, he still feels within him his immortal spirit
  • yearning after the unknown future.
  • Although the religious theories of the islands were a complete mystery to
  • me, their practical every-day operation could not be concealed. I
  • frequently passed the little temples reposing in the shadows of the Taboo
  • Groves, and beheld the offerings—mouldy fruit spread out upon a rude
  • altar, or hanging in half-decayed baskets around some uncouth,
  • jolly-looking images. I was present during the continuance of the
  • festival. I daily beheld the grinning idols marshalled rank and file in
  • the Hoolah Hoolah ground, and was often in the habit of meeting those whom
  • I supposed to be the priests. But the temples seemed to be abandoned to
  • solitude; the festival had been nothing more than a jovial mingling of the
  • tribe; the idols were quite as harmless as any other logs of wood; and the
  • priests were the merriest dogs in the valley.
  • In fact, religious affairs in Typee were at a very low ebb. All such
  • matters sat very lightly upon the thoughtless inhabitants; and, in the
  • celebration of many of their strange rites, they appeared merely to seek a
  • sort of childish amusement.
  • A curious evidence of this was given in a remarkable ceremony, in which I
  • frequently saw Mehevi and several other chiefs and warriors of note take
  • part; but never a single female.
  • Among those whom I looked upon as forming the priesthood of the valley,
  • there was one in particular who often attracted my notice, and whom I
  • could not help regarding as the head of the order. He was a noble-looking
  • man, in the prime of his life, and of a most benignant aspect. The
  • authority this man, whose name was Kolory, seemed to exercise over the
  • rest, the episcopal part he took in the Feast of Calabashes, his sleek and
  • complacent appearance, the mystic characters which were tattooed upon his
  • chest, and, above all, the mitre he frequently wore, in the shape of a
  • towering head-dress, consisting of part of a cocoa-nut branch, the stalk
  • planted uprightly on his brow, and the leaflets gathered together and
  • passed round the temples and behind the ears, all these pointed him out as
  • Lord Primate of Typee. Kolory was a sort of Knight Templar—a
  • soldier-priest; for he often wore the dress of a Marquesan warrior, and
  • always carried a long spear, which, instead of terminating in a paddle at
  • the lower end, after the general fashion of these weapons, was curved into
  • a heathenish-looking little image. This instrument, however, might perhaps
  • have been emblematic of his double functions. With one end, in carnal
  • combat he tranfixed the enemies of his tribe; and with the other, as a
  • pastoral crook, he kept in order his spiritual flock. But this is not all
  • I have to about Kolory. His martial grace very often carried about with
  • him what seemed to me the half of a broken war-club. It was swathed round
  • with ragged bits of white tappa, and the upper part, which was intended to
  • represent a human head, was embellished with a strip of scarlet cloth of
  • European manufacture. It required little observation to discover that this
  • strange object was revered as a god. By the side of the big and lusty
  • images standing sentinel over the altars of the Hoolah Hoolah ground, it
  • seemed a mere pigmy in tatters. But appearances all the world over are
  • deceptive. Little men are sometimes very potent, and rags sometimes cover
  • very extensive pretensions. In fact, this funny little image was the
  • “crack” god of the island; lording it over all the wooden lubbers who
  • looked so grim and dreadful; its name was Moa Artua.(4) And it was in
  • honour of Moa Artua, and for the entertainment of those who believe in
  • him, that the curious ceremony I am about to describe was observed.
  • Mehevi and the chieftains of the Ti have just risen from their noontide
  • slumbers. There are no affairs of state to dispose of; and having eaten
  • two or three breakfasts in the course of the morning, the magnates of the
  • valley feel no appetite as yet for dinner. How are their leisure moments
  • to be occupied? They smoke, they chat, and at last one of their number
  • makes a proposition to the rest, who joyfully acquiescing, he darts out of
  • the house, leaps from the pi-pi, and disappears in the grove. Soon you see
  • him returning with Kolory, who bears the god Moa Artua in his arms, and
  • carries in one hand a small trough, hollowed out in the likeness of a
  • canoe. The priest comes along dangling his charge as if it were a
  • lachrymose infant he was endeavouring to put into a good humour.
  • Presently, entering the Ti, he seats himself on the mats as composedly as
  • a juggler about to perform his sleight-of-hand tricks; and, with the
  • chiefs disposed in a circle around him, commences his ceremony.
  • In the first place he gives Moa Artua an affectionate hug, then
  • caressingly lays him to his breast, and, finally, whispers something in
  • his ear, the rest of the company listening eagerly for a reply. But the
  • baby-god is deaf or dumb,—perhaps both, for never a word does he utter. At
  • last Kolory speaks a little louder, and soon growing angry, comes boldly
  • out with what he has to say, and bawls to him. He put me in mind of a
  • choleric fellow, who, after trying in vain to communicate a secret to a
  • deaf man, all at once flies into a passion and screams it out so that
  • every one may hear. Still Moa Artua remains as quiet as ever, and Kolory,
  • seemingly losing his temper, fetches him a box over the head, strips him
  • of his tappa and red cloth, and, laying him in a state of nudity in a
  • little trough, covers him from sight. At this proceeding all present
  • loudly applaud, and signify their approval by uttering the adjective
  • “motarkee” with violent emphasis. Kolory, however, is so desirous his
  • conduct should meet with unqualified approbation, that he inquires of each
  • individual separately whether, under existing circumstances, he has not
  • done perfectly right in shutting up Moa Artua. The invariable response is
  • “Aa, Aa” (yes, yes), repeated over again and again in a manner which ought
  • to quiet the scruples of the most conscientious. After a few moments
  • Kolory brings forth his doll again, and, while arraying it very carefully
  • in the tappa and red cloth, alternately fondles and chides it. The toilet
  • being completed, he once more speaks to it aloud. The whole company
  • hereupon show the greatest interest; while the priest, holding Moa Artua
  • to his ear, interprets to them what he pretends the god is confidentially
  • communicating to him. Some items of intelligence appear to tickle all
  • present amazingly; for one claps his hands in a rapture; another shouts
  • with merriment; and a third leaps to his feet and capers about like a
  • madman.
  • What under the sun Moa Artua on these occasions had to say to Kolory I
  • never could find out; but I could not help thinking that the former showed
  • a sad want of spirit in being disciplined into making those disclosures,
  • which at first he seemed bent on withholding. Whether the priest honestly
  • interpreted what he believed the divinity said to him, or whether he was
  • not all the while guilty of a vile humbug, I shall not presume to decide.
  • At any rate, whatever, as coming from the god, was imparted to those
  • present, seemed to be generally of a complimentary nature—a fact which
  • illustrates the sagacity of Kolory, or else the time-serving disposition
  • of this hardly-used deity.
  • Moa Artua having nothing more to say, his bearer goes to nursing him
  • again, in which occupation, however, he is soon interrupted by a question
  • put by one of the warriors to the god. Kolory hereupon snatches it up to
  • his ear again, and after listening attentively, once more officiates as
  • the organ of communication. A multitude of questions and answers having
  • passed between the parties, much to the satisfaction of those who propose
  • them, the god is put tenderly to bed in the trough, and the whole company
  • unite in a long chant, led off by Kolory. This ended, the ceremony is
  • over; the chiefs rise to their feet in high good humour, and my Lord
  • Archbishop, after chatting awhile, and regaling himself with a whiff or
  • two from a pipe of tobacco, tucks the canoe under his arm and marches off
  • with it.
  • The whole of these proceedings were like those of a parcel of children
  • playing with dolls and baby-houses.
  • For a youngster scarcely ten inches high, and with so few early advantages
  • as he doubtless had had, Moa Artua was certainly a precocious little
  • fellow, if he really said all that was imputed to him; but for what reason
  • this poor devil of a deity, thus cuffed about, cajoled, and shut up in a
  • box, was held in greater estimation than the full-grown and dignified
  • personages of the Taboo Groves, I cannot divine. And yet Mehevi, and other
  • chiefs of unquestionable veracity—to say nothing of the Primate
  • himself—assured me over and over again that Moa Artua was the tutelary
  • deity of Typee, and was more to be held in honour than a whole battalion
  • of the clumsy idols in the Hoolah Hoolah grounds. Kory-Kory—who seemed to
  • have devoted considerable attention to the study of theology, as he knew
  • the names of all the graven images in the valley, and often repeated them
  • over to me—likewise entertained some rather enlarged ideas with regard to
  • the character and pretensions of Moa Artua. He once gave me to understand,
  • with a gesture there was no misconceiving, that if he (Moa Artua) were so
  • minded, he could cause a cocoa-nut tree to sprout out of his (Kory-Kory’s)
  • head; and that it would be the easiest thing in life for him (Moa Artua)
  • to take the whole island of Nukuheva in his mouth, and dive down to the
  • bottom of the sea with it.
  • But, in sober seriousness, I hardly knew what to make of the religion of
  • the valley. There was nothing that so much perplexed the illustrious Cook,
  • in his intercourse with the South Sea islanders, as their sacred rites.
  • Although this prince of navigators was in many instances assisted by
  • interpreters in the prosecution of his researches, he still frankly
  • acknowledges that he was at a loss to obtain anything like a clear insight
  • into the puzzling arcana of their faith. A similar admission has been made
  • by other eminent voyagers,—by Carteret, Byron, Kotzebue, and Vancouver.
  • For my own part, although hardly a day passed while I remained upon the
  • island that I did not witness some religious ceremony or other, it was
  • very much like seeing a parcel of “Freemasons” making secret signs to each
  • other: I saw everything, but could comprehend nothing.
  • On the whole, I am inclined to believe that the islanders in the Pacific
  • have no fixed and definite ideas whatever on the subject of religion. I am
  • persuaded that Kolory himself would be effectually posed were he called
  • upon to draw up the articles of his faith, and pronounce the creed by
  • which he hoped to be saved. In truth, the Typees, so far as their actions
  • evince, submitted to no laws, human or divine—always excepting the thrice
  • mysterious Taboo. The “independent electors” of the valley were not to be
  • browbeaten by chiefs, priests, idols, or devils. As for the luckless
  • idols, they received more hard knocks than supplications. I do not wonder
  • that some of them looked so grim, and stood so bolt upright, as if fearful
  • of looking to the right or the left, lest they should give any one
  • offence. The fact is, they had to carry themselves “_pretty straight_,” or
  • suffer the consequences. Their worshippers were such a precious set of
  • fickle-minded and irreverent heathens, that there was no telling when they
  • might topple one of them over, break it to pieces, and making a fire with
  • it on the very altar itself, fall to roasting the offerings of
  • bread-fruit, and eat them in spite of its teeth.
  • In how little reverence these unfortunate deities were held by the
  • natives, was on one occasion most convincingly proved to me. Walking with
  • Kory-Kory through the deepest recesses of the groves, I perceived a
  • curious-looking image about six feet in height, which originally had been
  • placed upright against a low pi-pi, surmounted by a ruinous bamboo temple,
  • but having become fatigued and weak in the knees, was now carelessly
  • leaning against it. The idol was partly concealed by the foliage of a tree
  • which stood near, and whose leafy boughs drooped over the pile of stones,
  • as if to protect the rude fane from the decay to which it was rapidly
  • hastening. The image itself was nothing more than a grotesquely-shaped
  • log, carved in the likeness of a portly naked man, with the arms clasped
  • over the head, the jaws thrown wide apart, and its thick shapeless legs
  • bowed into an arch. It was much decayed. The lower part was overgrown with
  • a bright silky moss. Thin spears of grass sprouted from the distended
  • mouth, and fringed the outline of the head and arms. His godship had
  • literally attained a green old age. All its prominent points were bruised
  • and battered or entirely rotted away. The nose had taken its departure,
  • and from the general appearance of the head, it might have been supposed
  • that the wooden divinity, in despair at the neglect of its worshippers,
  • had been trying to beat its own brains out against the surrounding trees.
  • I drew near, to inspect more closely this strange object of idolatry, but
  • halted reverently at the distance of two or three paces, out of regard of
  • the religious prejudices of my valet. As soon, however, as Kory-Kory
  • perceived that I was in one of my inquiring, scientific moods, to my
  • astonishment he sprang to the side of the idol, and pushing it away from
  • the stones against which it rested, endeavoured to make it stand upon its
  • legs. But the divinity had lost the use of them altogether; and while
  • Kory-Kory was trying to prop it up, by placing a stick between it and
  • pi-pi, the monster fell clumsily to the ground, and would infallibly have
  • broken its neck had not Kory-Kory providentially broken its fall, by
  • receiving its whole weight on his own half-crushed back. I never saw the
  • honest fellow in such a rage before. He leaped furiously to his feet, and,
  • seizing the stick, began beating the poor image, every moment or two
  • pausing and talking to it in the most violent manner, as if upbraiding it
  • for the accident. When his indignation had subsided a little, he whirled
  • the idol about most profanely, so as to give me an opportunity of
  • examining it on all sides. I am quite sure I never should have presumed to
  • have taken such liberties with the god myself, and I was not a little
  • shocked at Kory-Kory’s impiety.
  • CHAPTER XXIV
  • General information gathered at the festival—Personal beauty of
  • the Typees—Their superiority over the inhabitants of the other
  • islands—Diversity of complexion—A vegetable cosmetic and
  • ointment—Testimony of voyagers to the uncommon beauty of the
  • Marquesans—Few evidences of intercourse with civilized
  • beings—Dilapidated musket—Primitive simplicity of government—Regal
  • dignity of Mehevi.
  • Although I had been unable during the late festival to obtain information
  • on many interesting subjects which had much excited my curiosity, still
  • that important event had not passed by without adding materially to my
  • general knowledge of the islanders.
  • I was especially struck by the physical strength and beauty which they
  • displayed, by their great superiority in these respects over the
  • inhabitants of the neighbouring bay of Nukuheva, and by the singular
  • contrasts they presented among themselves in their various shades of
  • complexion.
  • In beauty of form they surpassed anything I had ever seen. Not a single
  • instance of natural deformity was observable in all the throng attending
  • the revels. Occasionally I noticed among the men the scars of wounds they
  • had received in battle; and sometimes, though very seldom, the loss of a
  • finger, an eye, or an arm, attributable to the same cause. With these
  • exceptions, every individual appeared free from those blemishes which
  • sometimes mar the effect of an otherwise perfect form. But their physical
  • excellence did not merely consist in an exemption from these evils; nearly
  • every individual of their number might have been taken for a sculptor’s
  • model.
  • When I remembered that these islanders derived no advantage from dress,
  • but appeared in all the naked simplicity of nature, I could not avoid
  • comparing them with the fine gentlemen and dandies who promenade such
  • unexceptional figures in our frequented thoroughfares. Stripped of the
  • cunning artifices of the tailor, and standing forth in the garb of
  • Eden,—what a sorry set of round-shouldered, spindle-shanked, crane-necked
  • varlets would civilized men appear! Stuffed calves, padded breasts, and
  • scientifically cut pantaloons would then avail them nothing, and the
  • effect would be truly deplorable.
  • Nothing in the appearance of the islanders struck me more forcibly than
  • the whiteness of their teeth. The novelist always compares the masticators
  • of his heroine to ivory; but I boldly pronounce the teeth of the Typees to
  • be far more beautiful than ivory itself. The jaws of the oldest greybeards
  • among them were much better garnished than those of the youths of
  • civilized countries; while the teeth of the young and middle-aged, in
  • their purity and whiteness, were actually dazzling to the eye. This
  • marvellous whiteness of the teeth is to be ascribed to the pure vegetable
  • diet of these people, and the uninterrupted healthfulness of their natural
  • mode of life.
  • The men, in almost every instance, are of lofty stature, scarcely ever
  • less than six feet in height, while the other sex are uncommonly
  • diminutive. The early period of life at which the human form arrives at
  • maturity in this generous tropical climate likewise deserves to be
  • mentioned. A little creature, not more than thirteen years of age, who in
  • other particulars might be regarded as a mere child, is often seen nursing
  • her own baby; whilst lads who, under less ripening skies, would be still
  • at school, are here responsible fathers of families.
  • On first entering the Typee valley, I had been struck with the marked
  • contrast presented by its inhabitants with those of the bay I had
  • previously left. In the latter place, I had not been favourably impressed
  • with the personal appearance of the male portion of the population;
  • although with the females, excepting in some truly melancholy instances, I
  • had been wonderfully pleased.
  • Apart, however, from these considerations, I am inclined to believe that
  • there exists a radical difference between the two tribes, if indeed they
  • are not distinct races of men. To those who have merely touched at
  • Nukuheva Bay, without visiting other portions of the island, would hardly
  • appear credible the diversities presented between the various small clans
  • inhabiting so diminutive a spot. But the hereditary hostility which has
  • existed between them for ages fully accounts for this.
  • Not so easy, however, is it to assign an adequate cause for the endless
  • variety of complexions to be seen in the Typee valley. During the
  • festival, I had noticed several young females whose skins were almost as
  • white as any Saxon damsel’s, a slight dash of the mantling brown being all
  • that marked the difference. This comparative fairness of complexion,
  • though in a great degree perfectly natural, is partly the result of an
  • artificial process, and of an entire exclusion from the sun. The juice of
  • the “papa” root, found in great abundance at the head of the valley, is
  • held in great esteem as a cosmetic, with which many of the females daily
  • anoint their whole person. The habitual use of it whitens and beautifies
  • the skin. Those of the young girls who resort to this method of
  • heightening their charms, never expose themselves to the rays of the sun;
  • an observance, however, that produces little or no inconvenience, since
  • there are but few of the inhabited portions of the vale which are not
  • shaded over with a spreading canopy of boughs, so that one may journey
  • from house to house, scarcely deviating from the direct course, and yet
  • never once see his shadow cast upon the ground.
  • The “papa,” when used, is suffered to remain upon the skin for several
  • hours; being of a light green colour, it consequently imparts for the time
  • a similar hue to the complexion. Nothing, therefore, can be imagined more
  • singular than the appearance of these nearly naked damsels immediately
  • after the application of the cosmetic. To look at one of them you would
  • almost suppose she was some vegetable in an unripe state; and that,
  • instead of living in the shade for ever, she ought to be placed out in the
  • sun to ripen.
  • All the islanders are more or less in the habit of anointing themselves;
  • the women preferring the “aker” or “papa,” and the men using the oil of
  • the cocoa-nut. Mehevi was remarkably fond of mollifying his entire cuticle
  • with this ointment. Sometimes he might be seen with his whole body fairly
  • reeking with the perfumed oil of the nut, looking as if he had just
  • emerged from a soap-boiler’s vat, or had undergone the process of dipping
  • in a tallow-chandlery. To this cause, perhaps, united to their frequent
  • bathing, and extreme cleanliness, is ascribable, in a great measure, the
  • marvellous purity and smoothness of skin exhibited by the natives in
  • general.
  • The prevailing tint among the women of the valley was a light olive, and
  • of this style of complexion Fayaway afforded the most beautiful example.
  • Others were still darker, while not a few were of a genuine golden colour,
  • and some of a swarthy hue.
  • As agreeing with much previously mentioned in this narrative, I may here
  • observe, that Mendanna, their discoverer, in his account of the Marquesas,
  • described the natives as wondrously beautiful to behold, and as nearly
  • resembling the people of Southern Europe. The first of these islands seen
  • by Mendanna was La Madelena, which is not far distant from Nukuheva; and
  • its inhabitants in every respect resemble those dwelling on that and the
  • other islands of the group. Figueroa, the chronicler of Mendanna’s voyage,
  • says, that on the morning the land was descried, when the Spaniards drew
  • near the shore, there sallied forth, in rude procession, about seventy
  • canoes, and at the same time many of the inhabitants (females, I presume)
  • made towards the ships by swimming. He adds, that “in complexion they were
  • nearly white, of good stature, and finely formed; and on their faces and
  • bodies were delineated representations of fishes and other devices.” The
  • old Don then goes on to say, “There came, among others, two lads paddling
  • their canoe, whose eyes were fixed on the ship; they had beautiful faces,
  • and the most promising animation of countenance, and were in all things so
  • becoming, that the pilot-mayor, Quiros, affirmed, nothing in his life ever
  • caused him so much regret as the leaving such fine creatures to be lost in
  • that country.”
  • Some of the natives present at the Feast of Calabashes had displayed a few
  • articles of European dress, disposed, however, about their persons after
  • their own peculiar fashion. Among these I perceived the two pieces of
  • cotton cloth which poor Toby and myself had bestowed upon our youthful
  • guides the afternoon we entered the valley. They were evidently reserved
  • for gala days; and during those of the festival they rendered the young
  • islanders who wore them very distinguished characters. The small number
  • who were similarly adorned, and the great value they appeared to place
  • upon the most common and most trivial articles, furnished ample evidence
  • of the very restricted intercourse they held with vessels touching at the
  • island. A few cotton handkerchiefs of a gay pattern, tied about the neck,
  • and suffered to fall over the shoulders, strips of fanciful calico,
  • swathed about the loins, were nearly all I saw.
  • Indeed, throughout the valley, there were few things of any kind to be
  • seen of European origin. All I ever saw, besides the articles just alluded
  • to, were the six muskets preserved in the Ti, and three or four similar
  • implements of warfare hung up in other houses, some small canvas bags,
  • partly filled with bullets and powder, and half a dozen old hatchet-heads,
  • with the edges blunted and battered to such a degree as to render them
  • utterly worthless. These last seemed to be regarded as nearly worthless by
  • the natives; and several times they held up one of them before me, and
  • throwing it aside with a gesture of disgust, manifested their contempt for
  • anything that could so soon become unserviceable.
  • But the muskets, the powder, and the bullets, were held in most
  • extravagant esteem. The former, from their great age and the peculiarities
  • they exhibited, were well worthy a place in any antiquarian’s armoury. I
  • remember, in particular, one that hung in the Ti, and which
  • Mehevi—supposing as a matter of course that I was able to repair it—had
  • put into my hands for that purpose. It was one of those clumsy,
  • old-fashioned English pieces known generally as Tower Hill muskets, and,
  • for aught I know, might have been left on the island by Wallace, Carteret,
  • Cook, or Vancouver. The stock was half-rotten and worm-eaten; the lock was
  • as rusty and about as well adapted to its ostensible purpose as an old
  • door-hinge; the threading of the screws about the trigger was completely
  • worn away; while the barrel shook in the wood. Such was the weapon the
  • chief desired me to restore to its original condition. As I did not
  • possess the accomplishments of a gunsmith, and was likewise destitute of
  • the necessary tools, I was reluctantly obliged to signify my inability to
  • perform the task. At this unexpected communication Mehevi regarded me, for
  • a moment, as if he half suspected I was some inferior sort of white man,
  • who after all did not know much more than a Typee. However, after a most
  • laboured explanation of the matter, I succeeded in making him understand
  • the extreme difficulty of the task. Scarcely satisfied with my apologies,
  • however, he marched off with the superannuated musket in something of a
  • huff, as if he would no longer expose it to the indignity of being
  • manipulated by such unskilful fingers.
  • [Illustration: MEHEVI]
  • During the festival, I had not failed to remark the simplicity of manner,
  • the freedom from all restraint, and, to a certain degree, the equality of
  • condition manifested by the natives in general. No one appeared to assume
  • any arrogant pretensions. There was little more than a slight difference
  • in costume to distinguish the chiefs from the other natives. All appeared
  • to mix together freely, and without any reserve; although I noticed that
  • the wishes of a chief, even when delivered in the mildest tone, received
  • the same immediate obedience which elsewhere would have been only accorded
  • to a peremptory command. What may be the extent of the authority of the
  • chiefs over the rest of the tribe, I will not venture to assert; but from
  • all I saw during my stay in the valley, I was induced to believe that in
  • matters concerning the general welfare it was very limited. The required
  • degree of deference towards them, however, was willingly and cheerfully
  • yielded; and as all authority is transmitted from father to son, I have no
  • doubt that one of the effects here, as elsewhere, of high birth, is to
  • induce respect and obedience.
  • The particular grades of rank existing among the chiefs of Typee, I could
  • not in all cases determine. Previous to the Feast of Calabashes, I had
  • been puzzled what particular station to assign to Mehevi. But the
  • important part he took upon that occasion convinced me that he had no
  • superior among the inhabitants of the valley. I had invariably noticed a
  • certain degree of deference paid to him by all with whom I had ever seen
  • him brought in contact; but when I remembered that my wanderings had been
  • confined to a limited portion of the valley, and that towards the sea a
  • number of distinguished chiefs resided, some of whom had separately
  • visited me at Marheyo’s house, and whom, until the festival, I had never
  • seen in the company of Mehevi, I felt disposed to believe that his rank,
  • after all, might not be particularly elevated.
  • The revels, however, had brought together all the warriors whom I had seen
  • individually and in groups at different times and places. Among them
  • Mehevi moved with an easy air of superiority which was not to be mistaken;
  • and he whom I had only looked at as the hospitable host of the Ti, and one
  • of the military leaders of the tribe, now assumed in my eyes the dignity
  • of royal station. His striking costume, no less than his naturally
  • commanding figure, seemed indeed to give him pre-eminence over the rest.
  • The towering helmet of feathers that he wore raised him in height above
  • all who surrounded him; and though some others were similarly adorned, the
  • length and luxuriance of their plumes were far inferior to his.
  • Mehevi was in fact the greatest of the chiefs—the head of his clan—the
  • sovereign of the valley; and the simplicity of the social institutions of
  • the people could not have been more completely proved than by the fact,
  • that after having been several weeks in the valley, and almost in daily
  • intercourse with Mehevi, I should have remained until the time of the
  • festival ignorant of his regal character. But a new light had now broken
  • in upon me. The Ti was the palace—and Mehevi the king. Both the one and
  • the other of a most simple and patriarchal nature it must be allowed, and
  • wholly unattended by the ceremonious pomp which usually surrounds the
  • purple.
  • After having made this discovery I could not avoid congratulating myself
  • that Mehevi had from the first taken me as it were under his royal
  • protection, and that he still continued to entertain for me the warmest
  • regard, as far at least as I was enabled to judge from appearances. For
  • the future I determined to pay most assiduous court to him, hoping that
  • eventually through his kindness I might obtain my liberty.
  • CHAPTER XXV
  • King Mehevi—Conduct of Marheyo and Mehevi in certain delicate
  • matters—Peculiar system of marriage—Number of
  • population—Uniformity—Embalming—Places of sepulture—Funeral
  • obsequies at Nukuheva—Number of inhabitants in Typee—Location of
  • the dwellings—Happiness enjoyed in the valley.
  • King Mehevi!—A goodly sounding title!—and why should I not bestow it upon
  • the foremost man in the valley? All hail, therefore, Mehevi, king over all
  • the Typees! and long life and prosperity to his tropical majesty! But to
  • be sober again after this loyal burst.
  • Previously to seeing the Dancing Widows I had little idea that there were
  • any matrimonial relations subsisting in Typee, and I should as soon have
  • thought of a Platonic affection being cultivated between the sexes, as of
  • the solemn connexion of man and wife. To be sure, there were old Marheyo
  • and Tinor, who seemed to live together quite sociably; but for all that, I
  • had sometimes observed a comical-looking old gentleman, dressed in a suit
  • of shabby tattooing, who appeared to be equally at home. This behaviour,
  • until subsequent discoveries enlightened me, puzzled me more than anything
  • else I witnessed in Typee.
  • As for Mehevi, I had supposed him a confirmed bachelor, as well as most of
  • the principal chiefs. At any rate, if they had wives and families, they
  • ought to have been ashamed of themselves; for sure I am, they never
  • troubled themselves about any domestic affairs. In truth, Mehevi seemed to
  • be the president of a club of hearty fellows who kept “Bachelor’s Hall” in
  • fine style at the Ti. I had no doubt but that they regarded children as
  • odious incumbrances; and their ideas of domestic felicity were
  • sufficiently shown in the fact, that they allowed no meddlesome
  • housekeepers to turn topsy-turvy those snug little arrangements they had
  • made in their comfortable dwelling. I strongly suspected, however, that
  • some of those jolly bachelors were carrying on love intrigues with the
  • maidens of the tribe, although they did not appear publicly to acknowledge
  • them. I happened to pop upon Mehevi three or four times when he was
  • romping—in a most undignified manner for a warrior king—with one of the
  • prettiest little witches in the valley. She lived with an old woman and a
  • young man, in a house near Marheyo’s; and although in appearance a mere
  • child herself, had a noble boy about a year old, who bore a marvellous
  • resemblance to Mehevi, whom I should certainly have believed to have been
  • the father, were it not that the little fellow had no triangle on his
  • face. Mehevi, however, was not the only person upon whom the damsel
  • Moonoony smiled—the young fellow of fifteen, who permanently resided in
  • the house with her, was decidedly in her good graces. This too was a
  • mystery which, with others of the same kind, was afterwards satisfactorily
  • explained.
  • During the second day of the Feast of Calabashes, Kory-Kory—being
  • determined that I should have some understanding on these matters—had, in
  • the course of his explanations, directed my attention to a peculiarity I
  • had frequently marked among many of the females,—principally those of a
  • mature age and rather matronly appearance. This consisted in having the
  • right hand and the left foot most elaborately tattooed; while the rest of
  • the body was wholly free from the operation of the art, with the exception
  • of the minutely dotted lips and slight marks on the shoulders, to which I
  • have previously referred as comprising the sole tattooing exhibited by
  • Fayaway, in common with other young girls of her age. The hand and foot
  • thus embellished, were, according to Kory-Kory, the distinguishing badge
  • of wedlock, so far as that social and highly commendable institution is
  • known among these people. It answers, indeed, the same purpose as the
  • plain gold ring worn by our fairer spouses.
  • After Kory-Kory’s explanation of the subject, I was for some time
  • studiously respectful in the presence of all females thus distinguished,
  • and never ventured to indulge in the slightest approach to flirtation with
  • any of their number.
  • A further insight, however, into the peculiar domestic customs of the
  • inmates of the valley did away in a measure with the severity of my
  • scruples, and convinced me that I was deceived in some at least of my
  • conclusions. A regular system of polygamy exists among the islanders, but
  • of a most extraordinary nature,—a plurality of husbands, instead of wives;
  • and this solitary fact speaks volumes for the gentle disposition of the
  • male population.
  • I was not able to learn what particular ceremony was observed in forming
  • the marriage contract, but am inclined to think that it must have been of
  • a very simple nature. Perhaps the mere “popping the question,” as it is
  • termed with us, might have been followed by an immediate nuptial alliance.
  • At any rate, tedious courtships are unknown in the valley of Typee.
  • The males considerably outnumber the females. This holds true of many of
  • the islands of Polynesia, although the reverse of what is the case in most
  • civilized countries. The girls are first wooed and won, at a very tender
  • age, by some stripling in the household in which they reside. This,
  • however, is a mere frolic of the affections, and no formal engagement is
  • contracted. By the time this first love has a little subsided, a second
  • suitor presents himself, of graver years, and carries both boy and girl
  • away to his own habitation. This disinterested and generous-hearted fellow
  • now weds the young couple—marrying damsel and lover at the same time—and
  • all three thenceforth live together as harmoniously as so many turtles. I
  • have heard of some men who in civilized countries rashly marry large
  • families with their wives, but had no idea that there was any place where
  • people married supplementary husbands with them. Infidelity on either side
  • is very rare. No man has more than one wife, and no wife of mature years
  • has less than two husbands,—sometimes she has three, but such instances
  • are not frequent. The marriage tie, whatever it may be, does not appear to
  • be indissoluble; for separations occasionally happen. These, however, when
  • they do take place, produce no unhappiness, and are preceded by no
  • bickerings: for the simple reason, that an ill-used wife or a hen-pecked
  • husband is not obliged to file a bill in chancery to obtain a divorce. As
  • nothing stands in the way of a separation, the matrimonial yoke sits
  • easily and lightly, and a Typee wife lives on very pleasant and sociable
  • terms with her husbands. On the whole, wedlock, as known among these
  • Typees, seems to be of a more distinct and enduring nature than is usually
  • the case with barbarous people.
  • But, notwithstanding its existence among them, the scriptural injunction
  • to increase and multiply seems to be but indifferently attended to. I
  • never saw any of those large families, in arithmetical or step-ladder
  • progression, which one often meets with at home. I never knew of more than
  • two youngsters living together in the same home, and but seldom even that
  • number. As for the women, it was very plain that the anxieties of the
  • nursery but seldom disturbed the serenity of their souls; and they were
  • never seen going about the valley with half a score of little ones tagging
  • at their apron-strings, or rather at the bread-fruit leaf they usually
  • wore in the rear.
  • I have before had occasion to remark that I never saw any of the ordinary
  • signs of a place of sepulture in the valley, a circumstance which I
  • attributed, at the time, to my living in a particular part of it, and
  • being forbidden to extend my ramble to any considerable distance towards
  • the sea. I have since thought it probable, however, that the Typees,
  • either desirous of removing from their sight the evidences of mortality,
  • or prompted by a taste for rural beauty, may have some charming cemetery
  • situated in the shadowy recesses along the base of the mountains. At
  • Nukuheva, two or three large quadrangular “pi-pis,” heavily flagged,
  • enclosed with regular stone walls, and shaded over and almost hidden from
  • view by the interlacing branches of enormous trees, were pointed out to me
  • as burial-places. The bodies, I understood, were deposited in rude vaults
  • beneath the flagging, and were suffered to remain there without being
  • disinterred. Although nothing could be more strange and gloomy than the
  • aspect of these places, where the lofty trees threw their dark shadows
  • over rude blocks of stone, a stranger looking at them would have discerned
  • none of the ordinary evidences of a place of sepulture.
  • During my stay in the valley, as none of its inmates were so accommodating
  • as to die and be buried in order to gratify my curiosity with regard to
  • their funeral rites, I was reluctantly obliged to remain in ignorance of
  • them. As I have reason to believe, however, that the observances of the
  • Typees in these matters are the same with those of all other tribes on the
  • island, I will here relate a scene I chanced to witness at Nukuheva.
  • A young man had died, about daybreak, in a house near the beach. I had
  • been sent ashore that morning, and saw a good deal of the preparations
  • they were making for his obsequies. The body, neatly wrapped in new white
  • tappa, was laid out in an open shed of cocoa-nut boughs, upon a bier
  • constructed of elastic bamboos ingeniously twisted together. This was
  • supported, about two feet from the ground, by large canes planted
  • uprightly in the earth. Two females, of a dejected appearance, watched by
  • its side, plaintively chanting, and beating the air with large grass fans
  • whitened with pipe-clay. In the dwelling-house adjoining a numerous
  • company were assembled, and various articles of food were being prepared
  • for consumption. Two or three individuals, distinguished by head-dresses
  • of beautiful tappa, and wearing a great number of ornaments, appeared to
  • officiate as masters of the ceremonies. By noon the entertainment had
  • fairly begun, and we were told that it would last during the whole of the
  • two following days. With the exception of those who mourned by the corpse,
  • every one seemed disposed to drown the sense of the late bereavement in
  • convivial indulgence. The girls, decked out in their savage finery,
  • danced; the old men chanted; the warriors smoked and chatted; and the
  • young and lusty, of both sexes, feasted plentifully, and seemed to enjoy
  • themselves as pleasantly as they could have done had it been a wedding.
  • The islanders understand the art of embalming, and practice it with such
  • success, that the bodies of their great chiefs are frequently preserved
  • for many years in the very houses where they died. I saw three of these in
  • my visit to the bay of Tior. One was enveloped in immense folds of tappa,
  • with only the face exposed, and hung erect against the side of the
  • dwelling. The others were stretched out upon biers of bamboo, in open,
  • elevated temples, which seemed consecrated to their memory. The heads of
  • enemies killed in battle are invariably preserved, and hung up as trophies
  • in the house of the conqueror. I am not acquainted with the process which
  • is in use, but believe that fumigation is the principal agency employed.
  • All the remains which I saw presented the appearance of a ham after being
  • suspended for some time in a smoky chimney.
  • But to return from the dead to the living. The late festival had drawn
  • together, as I had every reason to believe, the whole population of the
  • vale, and consequently I was enabled to make some estimate with regard to
  • its numbers. I should imagine that there were about two thousand
  • inhabitants in Typee; and no number could have been better adapted to the
  • extent of the valley. The valley is some nine miles in length, and may
  • average one in breadth, the houses being distributed at wide intervals
  • throughout its whole extent, principally, however, towards the head of the
  • vale. There are no villages. The houses stand here and there in the shadow
  • of the groves, or are scattered along the banks of the winding stream;
  • their golden-hued bamboo sides and gleaming white thatch, forming a
  • beautiful contrast to the perpetual verdure in which they are embowered.
  • There are no roads of any kind in the valley. Nothing but a labyrinth of
  • footpaths, twisting and turning among the thickets without end.
  • CHAPTER XXVI
  • The social condition and general character of the Typees.
  • There seemed to be no rogues of any kind in Typee. In the darkest nights
  • the natives slept securely, with all their worldly wealth around them, in
  • houses the doors of which were never fastened. The disquieting ideas of
  • theft or assassination never disturbed them. Each islander reposed beneath
  • his own palmetto-thatching, or sat under his own bread-fruit, with none to
  • molest or alarm him. There was not a padlock in the valley, nor anything
  • that answered the purpose of one: still there was no community of goods.
  • This long spear, so elegantly carved and highly polished, belongs to
  • Warmoonoo—it is far handsomer than the one which old Marheyo so greatly
  • prizes—it is the most valuable article belonging to its owner. And yet I
  • have seen it leaning against a cocoa-nut tree in the grove, and there it
  • was found when sought for. Here is a sperm-whale tooth, graven all over
  • with cunning devices—it is the property of Kurluna. It is the most
  • precious of the damsel’s ornaments. In her estimation, its price is far
  • above rubies; and yet there hangs the dental jewel, by its cord of braided
  • bark, in the girl’s house, which is far back in the valley; the door is
  • left open, and all the inmates have gone off to bathe in the stream.(5)
  • So much for the respect in which such matters are held in Typee. As to the
  • land of the valley, whether it was the joint property of its inhabitants,
  • or whether it was parcelled out among a certain number of landed
  • proprietors, who allowed everybody to roam over it as much as they
  • pleased, I never could ascertain. At any rate, musty parchments and
  • title-deeds there were none in the island; and I am half inclined to
  • believe that its inhabitants hold their broad valleys in fee simple from
  • nature herself.
  • Yesterday I saw Kory-Kory hie him away, armed with a long pole, with
  • which, standing on the ground, he knocked down the fruit from the topmost
  • boughs of the trees, and brought them home in his basket of cocoa-nut
  • leaves. To-day I see an islander, whom I know to reside in a distant part
  • of the valley, doing the self-same thing. On the sloping bank of the
  • stream were a number of banana trees. I have often seen a score or two of
  • young people making a merry foray on the great golden clusters, and
  • bearing them off, one after another, to different parts of the vale,
  • shouting and tramping as they went. No churlish old curmudgeon could have
  • been the owner of that grove of bread-fruit trees, or of these gloriously
  • yellow bunches of bananas.
  • From what I have said, it will be perceived that there is a vast
  • difference between “personal property” and “real estate” in the valley of
  • Typee. Some individuals, of course, are more wealthy than others. For
  • example: the ridge-pole of Marheyo’s house bends under the weight of many
  • a huge packet of tappa; his long couch is laid with mats placed one upon
  • the other seven deep. Outside, Tinor has ranged along in her bamboo
  • cupboard—or whatever the place may be called—a goodly array of calabashes
  • and wooden trenchers. Now, the house just beyond the grove, and next to
  • Marheyo’s, occupied by Ruaruga, is not quite so well furnished. There are
  • only three moderate-sized packages swinging overhead; there are only two
  • layers of mats beneath; and the calabashes and trenchers are not so
  • numerous, nor so tastefully stained and carved. But then, Ruaruga has a
  • house—not so pretty a one, to be sure—but just as commodious as Marheyo’s;
  • and, I suppose, if he wished to vie with his neighbour’s establishment, he
  • could do so with very little trouble. These, in short, constitute the
  • chief differences perceivable in the relative wealth of the people in
  • Typee.
  • They lived in great harmony with each other. I will give an instance of
  • their fraternal feeling.
  • One day, in returning with Kory-Kory from my accustomed visit to the Ti,
  • we passed by a little opening in the grove; on one side of which, my
  • attendant informed me, was that afternoon to be built a dwelling of
  • bamboo. At least a hundred of the natives were bringing materials to the
  • ground, some carrying in their hands one or two of the canes which were to
  • form the sides, others slender rods of the Habiscus, strung with palmetto
  • leaves, for the roof. Every one contributed something to the work; and by
  • the united, but easy, and even indolent, labours of all, the entire work
  • was completed before sunset. The islanders, while employed in erecting
  • this tenement, reminded me of a colony of beavers at work. To be sure,
  • they were hardly as silent and demure as those wonderful creatures, nor
  • were they by any means as diligent. To tell the truth, they were somewhat
  • inclined to be lazy, but a perfect tumult of hilarity prevailed; and they
  • worked together so unitedly, and seemed actuated by such an instinct of
  • friendliness, that it was truly beautiful to behold.
  • Not a single female took part in this employment: and if the degree of
  • consideration in which the ever-adorable sex is held by the men be—as the
  • philosophers affirm—a just criterion of the degree of refinement among a
  • people, then I may truly pronounce the Typees to be as polished a
  • community as ever the sun shone upon. The religious restrictions of the
  • taboo alone excepted, the women of the valley were allowed every possible
  • indulgence. Nowhere are the ladies more assiduously courted; nowhere are
  • they better appreciated as the contributors to our highest enjoyments; and
  • nowhere are they more sensible of their power. Far different from their
  • condition among many rude nations, where the women are made to perform all
  • the work, while their ungallant lords and masters lie buried in sloth, the
  • gentle sex in the valley of Typee were exempt from toil—if toil it might
  • be called—that, even in that tropical climate, never distilled one drop of
  • perspiration. Their light household occupations, together with the
  • manufacture of tappa, the platting of mats, and the polishing of
  • drinking-vessels, were the only employments pertaining to the women. And
  • even these resembled those pleasant avocations which fill up the elegant
  • morning leisure of our fashionable ladies at home. But in these
  • occupations, slight and agreeable though they were, the giddy young girls
  • very seldom engaged. Indeed, these wilful, care-killing damsels were
  • averse to all useful employment. Like so many spoiled beauties, they
  • ranged through the groves—bathed in the stream—danced—flirted—played all
  • manner of mischievous pranks, and passed their days in one merry round of
  • thoughtless happiness.
  • During my whole stay on the island I never witnessed a single quarrel, nor
  • anything that in the slightest degree approached even to a dispute. The
  • natives appeared to form one household, whose members were bound together
  • by the ties of strong affection. The love of kindred I did not so much
  • perceive, for it seemed blended in the general love; and where all were
  • treated as brothers and sisters, it was hard to tell who were actually
  • related to each other by blood.
  • Let it not be supposed that I have overdrawn this picture. I have not done
  • so. Nor let it be urged, that the hostility of this tribe to foreigners,
  • and the hereditary feuds they carry on against their fellow-islanders
  • beyond the mountains, are facts which contradict me. Not so; these
  • apparent discrepancies are easily reconciled. By many a legendary tale of
  • violence and wrong, as well as by events which have passed before their
  • eyes, these people have been taught to look upon white men with
  • abhorrence. The cruel invasion of their country by Porter has alone
  • furnished them with ample provocation; and I can sympathize in the spirit
  • which prompts the Typee warrior to guard all the passes to his valley with
  • the point of his levelled spear, and, standing upon the beach, with his
  • back turned upon his green home, to hold at bay the intruding European.
  • As to the origin of the enmity of this particular clan towards the
  • neighbouring tribes, I cannot so confidently speak. I will not say that
  • their foes are the aggressors, nor will I endeavour to palliate their
  • conduct. But surely, if our evil passions must find vent, it is far better
  • to expend them on strangers and aliens, than in the bosom of the community
  • in which we dwell. In many polished countries civil contentions, as well
  • as domestic enmities, are prevalent, at the same time that the most
  • atrocious foreign wars are waged. How much less guilty, then, are our
  • islanders, who of these three sins are only chargeable with one, and that
  • the least criminal!
  • The reader will, ere long, have reason to suspect that the Typees are not
  • free from the guilt of cannibalism; and he will then, perhaps, charge me
  • with admiring a people against whom so odious a crime is chargeable. But
  • this only enormity in their character is not half so horrible as it is
  • usually described. According to the popular fictions, the crews of
  • vessels, shipwrecked on some barbarous coast, are eaten alive like so many
  • dainty joints by the uncivil inhabitants; and unfortunate voyagers are
  • lured into smiling and treacherous bays; knocked on the head with
  • outlandish war-clubs; and served up without any preliminary dressing. In
  • truth, so horrific and improbable are these accounts, that many sensible
  • and well-informed people will not believe that any cannibals exist; and
  • place every book of voyages which purports to give any account of them, on
  • the same shelf with Blue Beard and Jack the Giant-killer. While others,
  • implicitly crediting the most extravagant fictions, firmly believe that
  • there are people in the world with tastes so depraved, that they would
  • infinitely prefer a single mouthful of material humanity to a good dinner
  • of roast beef and plum pudding. But here, Truth, who loves to be centrally
  • located, is again found between the two extremes; for cannibalism to a
  • certain moderate extent is practised among several of the primitive tribes
  • in the Pacific, but it is upon the bodies of slain enemies alone; and
  • horrible and fearful as the custom is, immeasurably as it is to be
  • abhorred and condemned, still I assert that those who indulge in it are in
  • other respects humane and virtuous.
  • CHAPTER XXVII
  • Fishing parties—Mode of distributing the fish—Midnight
  • banquet—Timekeeping tapers—Unceremonious style of eating the fish.
  • There was no instance in which the social and kindly dispositions of the
  • Typees were more forcibly evinced than in the manner they conducted their
  • great fishing parties. Four times during my stay in the valley the young
  • men assembled near the full of the moon, and went together on these
  • excursions. As they were generally absent about forty-eight hours, I was
  • led to believe that they went out towards the open sea, some distance from
  • the bay. The Polynesians seldom use a hook and line, almost always
  • employing large, well-made nets, most ingeniously fabricated from the
  • twisted fibres of a certain bark. I examined several of them which had
  • been spread to dry upon the beach at Nukuheva. They resembled very much
  • our own seines, and I should think they were very nearly as durable.
  • All the South Sea islanders are passionately fond of fish; but none of
  • them can be more so than the inhabitants of Typee. I could not comprehend,
  • therefore, why they so seldom sought it in their waters; for it was only
  • at stated times that the fishing parties were formed, and these occasions
  • were always looked forward to with no small degree of interest.
  • During their absence, the whole population of the place were in a ferment,
  • and nothing was talked of but “pehee, pehee” (fish, fish). Towards the
  • time when they were expected to return, the vocal telegraph was put into
  • operation—the inhabitants, who were scattered throughout the length of the
  • valley, leaped upon rocks and into trees, shouting with delight at the
  • thoughts of the anticipated treat. As soon as the approach of the party
  • was announced, there was a general rush of the men towards the beach; some
  • of them remaining, however, about the Ti, in order to get matters in
  • readiness for the reception of the fish, which were brought to the Taboo
  • Groves in immense packages of leaves, each one of them being suspended
  • from a pole carried on the shoulders of two men.
  • I was present at the Ti on one of these occasions, and the sight was most
  • interesting. After all the packages had arrived, they were laid in a row
  • under the verandah of the building, and opened. The fish were all quite
  • small, generally about the size of a herring, and of every variety of
  • colour. About one-eighth of the whole being reserved for the use of the Ti
  • itself, the remainder was divided into numerous smaller packages, which
  • were immediately despatched in every direction to the remotest part of the
  • valley. Arrived at their destination, these were in turn portioned out,
  • and equally distributed among the various houses of each particular
  • district. The fish were under a strict Taboo, until the distribution was
  • completed, which seemed to be effected in the most impartial manner. By
  • the operation of this system every man, woman, and child in the vale, were
  • at one and the same time partaking of this favourite article of food.
  • Once, I remember, the party arrived at midnight; but the unseasonableness
  • of the hour did not repress the impatience of the islanders. The carriers
  • despatched from the Ti were to be seen hurrying in all directions through
  • the deep groves; each individual preceded by a boy bearing a flaming torch
  • of dried cocoa-nut boughs, which from time to time was replenished from
  • the materials scattered along the path. The wild glare of these enormous
  • flambeaux, lighting up with a startling brilliancy the innermost recesses
  • of the vale, and seen moving rapidly along beneath the canopy of leaves,
  • the savage shout of the excited messengers sounding the news of their
  • approach, which was answered on all sides, and the strange appearance of
  • their naked bodies, seen against the gloomy background, produced
  • altogether an effect upon my mind that I shall long remember.
  • It was on this same occasion that Kory-Kory awakened me at the dead hour
  • of night, and in a sort of transport communicated the intelligence
  • contained in the words “pehee perni” (fish come). As I happened to have
  • been in a remarkably sound and refreshing slumber, I could not imagine why
  • the information had not been deferred until morning; indeed, I felt very
  • much inclined to fly into a passion and box my valet’s ears; but on second
  • thoughts I got quietly up, and on going outside the house was not a little
  • interested by the moving illumination which I beheld.
  • When old Marheyo received his share of the spoils, immediate preparations
  • were made for a midnight banquet; calabashes of poee-poee were filled to
  • the brim; green bread-fruit were roasted; and a huge cake of “amar” was
  • cut up with a sliver of bamboo, and laid out on an immense banana leaf.
  • At this supper we were lighted by several of the native tapers, held in
  • the hands of young girls. These tapers are most ingeniously made. There is
  • a nut abounding in the valley, called by the Typees “armor,” closely
  • resembling our common horse-chestnut. The shell is broken, and the
  • contents extracted whole. Any number of these are strung at pleasure upon
  • the long elastic fibre that traverses the branches of the cocoa-nut tree.
  • Some of these tapers are eight or ten feet in length; but being perfectly
  • flexible, one end is held in a coil, while the other is lighted. The nut
  • burns with a fitful bluish flame, and the oil that it contains is
  • exhausted in about ten minutes. As one burns down, the next becomes
  • ignited, and the ashes of the former are knocked into a cocoa-nut shell
  • kept for the purpose. This primitive candle requires continual attention,
  • and must be constantly held in the hand. The person so employed marks the
  • lapse of time by the number of nuts consumed, which is easily learned by
  • counting the bits of tappa distributed at regular intervals along the
  • string.
  • I grieve to state so distressing a fact, but the inhabitants of Typee were
  • in the habit of devouring fish much in the same way that a civilized being
  • would eat a radish, and without any more previous preparation. They eat it
  • raw; scales, bones, gills, and all the inside. The fish is held by the
  • tail, and the head being introduced into the mouth, the animal disappears
  • with a rapidity that would at first nearly lead one to imagine it had been
  • launched bodily down the throat.
  • Raw fish! Shall I ever forget my sensation when I first saw my island
  • beauty devour one? Oh, heavens! Fayaway, how could you ever have
  • contracted so vile a habit? However, after the first shock had subsided,
  • the custom grew less odious in my eyes, and I soon accustomed myself to
  • the sight. Let no one imagine, however, that the lovely Fayaway was in the
  • habit of swallowing great vulgar-looking fishes: oh, no; with her
  • beautiful small hand she would clasp a delicate, little, golden-hued love
  • of a fish, and eat it as elegantly and as innocently as though it were a
  • Naples biscuit. But, alas! it was after all a raw fish; and all I can say
  • is, that Fayaway ate it in a more ladylike manner than any other girl of
  • the valley.
  • When at Rome do as the Romans do, I held to be so good a proverb, that
  • being in Typee, I made a point of doing as the Typees did. Thus I ate
  • poee-poee as they did; I walked about in a garb striking for its
  • simplicity; and I reposed on a community of couches; besides doing many
  • other things in conformity with their peculiar habits; but the farthest I
  • ever went in the way of conformity, was on several occasions to regale
  • myself with raw fish. These being remarkably tender, and quite small, the
  • undertaking was not so disagreeable in the main, and after a few trials I
  • positively began to relish them: however, I subjected them to a slight
  • operation with my knife previously to making my repast.
  • CHAPTER XXVIII
  • Natural history of the valley—Golden lizards—Tameness of the
  • birds—Mosquitoes—Flies—Dogs—A solitary cat—The climate—The
  • cocoa-nut tree—Singular modes of climbing it—An agile young
  • chief—Fearlessness of the children—Too-too and the cocoa-nut
  • tree—The birds of the valley.
  • There were some curious-looking dogs in the valley. Dogs!—big, hairless
  • rats rather; all with smooth, shining, speckled hides—fat sides, and very
  • disagreeable faces. Whence could they have come? That they were not the
  • indigenous production of the region, I am firmly convinced. Indeed, they
  • seemed aware of their being interlopers, looking fairly ashamed, and
  • always trying to hide themselves in some dark corner. It was plain enough
  • they did not feel at home in the vale—that they wished themselves well out
  • of it, and back to the ugly country from which they must have come.
  • Scurvy curs! they were my abhorrence; I should have liked nothing better
  • than to have been the death of every one of them. In fact, on one
  • occasion, I intimated the propriety of a canine crusade to Mehevi but the
  • benevolent king would not consent to it. He heard me very patiently; but
  • when I had finished, shook his head, and told me in confidence, that they
  • were “taboo.”
  • As for the animal that made the fortune of my lord mayor Whittington, I
  • shall never forget the day that I was lying in the house about noon,
  • everybody else being fast asleep; and happening to raise my eyes, met
  • those of a big black spectral cat, which sat erect in the doorway, looking
  • at me with its frightful goggling green orbs, like one of those monstrous
  • imps that tormented some of the olden saints! I am one of those
  • unfortunate persons, to whom the sight of these animals is at any time an
  • insufferable annoyance.
  • Thus constitutionally averse to cats in general, the unexpected apparition
  • of this one in particular utterly confounded me. When I had a little
  • recovered from the fascination of its glance, I started up; the cat fled,
  • and emboldened by this, I rushed out of the house in pursuit; but it had
  • disappeared. It was the only time I ever saw one in the valley, and how it
  • got there I cannot imagine. It is just possible that it might have escaped
  • from one of the ships at Nukuheva. It was in vain to seek information on
  • the subject from the natives, since none of them had seen the animal, the
  • appearance of which remains a mystery to me to this day.
  • Among the few animals which are to be met with in Typee, there was none
  • which I looked upon with more interest than a beautiful golden-hued
  • species of lizard. It measured perhaps five inches from head to tail, and
  • was most gracefully proportioned. Numbers of those creatures were to be
  • seen basking in the sunshine upon the thatching of the houses, and
  • multitudes at all hours of the day showed their glittering sides as they
  • ran frolicking between the spears of grass, or raced in troops up and down
  • the tall shafts of the cocoa-nut trees. But the remarkable beauty of these
  • little animals and their lively ways were not their only claims upon my
  • admiration. They were perfectly tame and insensible to fear. Frequently,
  • after seating myself upon the ground in some shady place during the heat
  • of the day, I would be completely overrun with them. If I brushed one off
  • my arm, it would leap perhaps into my hair: when I tried to frighten it
  • away by gently pinching its leg, it would turn for protection to the very
  • hand that attacked it.
  • The birds are also remarkably tame. If you happened to see one perched
  • upon a branch within reach of your arm, and advanced towards it, it did
  • not fly away immediately, but waited quietly looking at you, until you
  • could almost touch it, and then took wing slowly, less alarmed at your
  • presence, it would seem, than desirous of removing itself from your path.
  • Had salt been less scarce in the valley than it was, this was the very
  • place to have gone birding with it.
  • I remember that once, on an uninhabited island of the Gallipagos, a bird
  • alighted on my outstretched arm, while its mate chirped from an adjoining
  • tree. Its tameness, far from shocking me, as a similar occurrence did
  • Selkirk, imparted to me the most exquisite thrill of delight I ever
  • experienced; and with somewhat of the same pleasure did I afterwards
  • behold the birds and lizards of the valley show their confidence in the
  • kindliness of man.
  • Among the numerous afflictions which the Europeans have entailed upon some
  • of the natives of the South Seas, is the accidental introduction among
  • them of that enemy of all repose and ruffler of even tempers—the mosquito.
  • At the Sandwich Islands, and at two or three of the Society group, there
  • are now thriving colonies of these insects, who promise ere long to
  • supplant altogether the aboriginal sand-flies. They sting, buzz, and
  • torment, from one end of the year to the other, and by incessantly
  • exasperating the natives, materially obstruct the benevolent labours of
  • the missionaries.
  • From this grievous visitation, however, the Typees are as yet wholly
  • exempt; but its place is unfortunately in some degree supplied by the
  • occasional presence of a minute species of fly, which, without stinging,
  • is nevertheless productive of no little annoyance. The tameness of the
  • birds and lizards is as nothing when compared to the fearless confidence
  • of this insect. He will perch upon one of your eye-lashes, and go to roost
  • there, if you do not disturb him, or force his way through your hair, or
  • along the cavity of the nostril, till you almost fancy he is resolved to
  • explore the very brain itself. On one occasion I was so inconsiderate as
  • to yawn while a number of them were hovering around me. I never repeated
  • the act. Some half-dozen darted into the open compartment, and began
  • walking about its ceiling; the sensation was dreadful. I involuntarily
  • closed my mouth, and the poor creatures, being enveloped in inner
  • darkness, must in their consternation have stumbled over my palate, and
  • been precipitated into the gulf beneath. At any rate, though I afterwards
  • charitably held my mouth open for at least five minutes, with a view of
  • affording egress to the stragglers, none of them ever availed themselves
  • of the opportunity.
  • There are no wild animals of any kind on the island, unless it be decided
  • that the natives themselves are such. The mountains and the interior
  • present to the eye nothing but silent solitudes, unbroken by the roar of
  • beasts of prey, and enlivened by few tokens even of minute animated
  • existence. There are no venomous reptiles, and no snakes of any
  • description to be found in any of the valleys.
  • In a company of Marquesan natives the weather affords no topic of
  • conversation. It can hardly be said to have any vicissitudes. The rainy
  • season, it is true, brings frequent showers, but they are intermitting and
  • refreshing. When an islander, bound on some expedition, rises from his
  • couch in the morning, he is never solicitous to peep out and see how the
  • sky looks, or ascertain from what quarter the wind blows. He is always
  • sure of a “fine day,” and the promise of a few genial showers he hails
  • with pleasure. There is never any of that “remarkable weather” on the
  • islands which from time immemorial has been experienced in America, and
  • still continues to call forth the wondering conversational exclamations of
  • its elderly citizens. Nor do there even occur any of those eccentric
  • meteorological changes which elsewhere surprise us. In the valley of Typee
  • ice-creams would never be rendered less acceptable by sudden frosts, nor
  • would picnic parties be deferred on account of inauspicious snowstorms:
  • for there day follows day in one unvarying round of summer and sunshine,
  • and the whole year is one long tropical month of June just melting into
  • July.
  • It is this genial climate which causes the cocoa-nuts to flourish as they
  • do. This invaluable fruit, brought to perfection by the rich soil of the
  • Marquesas, and borne aloft on a stately column more than a hundred feet
  • from the ground, would seem at first almost inaccessible to the simple
  • natives. Indeed, the slender, smooth, and soaring shaft, without a single
  • limb or protuberance of any kind to assist one in mounting it, presents an
  • obstacle only to be overcome by the surprising agility and ingenuity of
  • the islanders. It might be supposed that their indolence would lead them
  • patiently to await the period when the ripened nuts, slowly parting from
  • their stems, fall one by one to the ground. This certainly would be the
  • case, were it not that the young fruit, encased in a soft green husk, with
  • the incipient meat adhering in a jelly-like pellicle to its sides, and
  • containing a bumper of the most delicious nectar, is what they chiefly
  • prize. They have at least twenty different terms to express as many
  • progressive stages in the growth of the nut. Many of them reject the fruit
  • altogether except at a particular period of its growth, which, incredible
  • as it may appear, they seemed to me to be able to ascertain within an hour
  • or two. Others are still more capricious in their tastes; and after
  • gathering together a heap of the nuts of all ages, and ingeniously tapping
  • them, will first sip from one and then from another, as fastidiously as
  • some delicate wine-bibber experimenting, glass in hand, among his dusty
  • demijohns of different vintages.
  • Some of the young men, with more flexible frames than their comrades, and
  • perhaps with more courageous souls, had a way of walking up the trunk of
  • the cocoa-nut trees which to me seemed little less than miraculous; and
  • when looking at them in the act, I experienced that curious perplexity a
  • child feels when he beholds a fly moving feet uppermost along a ceiling.
  • I will endeavour to describe the way in which Narnee, a noble young chief,
  • sometimes performed this feat for my particular gratification; but his
  • preliminary performances must also be recorded. Upon my signifying my
  • desire that he should pluck me the young fruit of some particular tree,
  • the handsome savage, throwing himself into a sudden attitude of surprise,
  • feigns astonishment at the apparent absurdity of the request. Maintaining
  • this position for a moment, the strange emotions depicted on his
  • countenance soften down into one of humorous resignation to my will, and
  • then, looking wistfully up to the tufted top of the tree, he stands on
  • tip-toe, straining his neck and elevating his arms, as though endeavouring
  • to reach the fruit from the ground where he stands. As if defeated in this
  • childish attempt, he now sinks to the earth despondingly, beating his
  • breast in well-acted despair; and then, starting to his feet all at once,
  • and throwing back his head, raises both hands, like a schoolboy about to
  • catch a falling ball. After continuing this for a moment or two, as if in
  • expectation that the fruit was going to be tossed down to him by some good
  • spirit in the tree-top, he turns wildly round in another fit of despair,
  • and scampers off to the distance of thirty or forty yards. Here he remains
  • awhile, eyeing the tree, the very picture of misery; but the next moment,
  • receiving, as it were, a flash of inspiration, he rushes again towards it,
  • and clasping both arms about the trunk, with one elevated a little above
  • the other, he presses the soles of his feet close together against the
  • tree, extending his legs from it until they are nearly horizontal, and his
  • body becomes doubled into an arch; then, hand over hand and foot after
  • foot, he rises from the earth with steady rapidity, and almost before you
  • are aware of it, has gained the cradled and embowered nest of nuts, and
  • with boisterous glee flings the fruit to the ground.
  • This mode of walking the tree is only practicable where the trunk declines
  • considerably from the perpendicular. This, however, is almost always the
  • case; some of the perfectly straight shafts of the trees leaning at an
  • angle of thirty degrees.
  • The less active among the men, and many of the children of the valley,
  • have another method of climbing. They take a broad and stout piece of
  • bark, and secure either end of it to their ankles: so that when the feet
  • thus confined are extended apart, a space of little more than twelve
  • inches is left between them. This contrivance greatly facilitates the act
  • of climbing. The band pressed against the tree, and closely embracing it,
  • yields a pretty firm support; while with the arms clasped about the trunk,
  • and at regular intervals sustaining the body, the feet are drawn up nearly
  • a yard at a time, and a corresponding elevation of the hands immediately
  • succeeds. In this way I have seen little children, scarcely five years of
  • age, fearlessly climbing the slender pole of a young cocoa-nut tree, and
  • while hanging perhaps fifty feet from the ground, receiving the plaudits
  • of their parents beneath, who clapped their hands, and encouraged them to
  • mount still higher.
  • What, thought I, on first witnessing one of these exhibitions, would the
  • nervous mothers of America and England say to a similar display of
  • hardihood in any of their children? The Lacedemonian nation might have
  • approved of it, but most modern dames would have gone into hysterics at
  • the sight.
  • At the top of the cocoa-nut tree the numerous branches, radiating on all
  • sides from a common centre, form a sort of green and waving basket,
  • between the leaflets of which you just discern the nuts thickly clustering
  • together, and on the loftier trees looking no bigger from the ground than
  • bunches of grapes. I remember one adventurous little fellow—Too-Too was
  • the rascal’s name—who had built himself a sort of aërial baby-house in the
  • picturesque tuft of a tree adjoining Marheyo’s habitation. He used to
  • spend hours there,—rustling among the branches, and shouting with delight
  • every time the strong gusts of wind, rushing down from the mountain side,
  • swayed to and fro the tall and flexible column on which he was perched.
  • Whenever I heard Too-Too’s musical voice sounding strangely to the ear
  • from so great a height, and beheld him peeping down upon me from out his
  • leafy covert, he always recalled to my mind Dibdin’s lines—
  • There’s a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft,
  • To look out for the life of poor Jack.
  • Birds—bright and beautiful birds—fly over the valley of Typee. You see
  • them perched aloft among the immovable boughs of the majestic bread-fruit
  • trees, or gently swaying on the elastic branches of the Omoo; skimming
  • over the palmetto-thatching of the bamboo huts; passing like spirits on
  • the wing through the shadows of the grove, and sometimes descending into
  • the bosom of the valley in gleaming flights from the mountains. Their
  • plumage is purple and azure, crimson and white, black and gold; with bills
  • of every tint;—bright bloody-red, jet black, and ivory white; and their
  • eyes are bright and sparkling; they go sailing through the air in starry
  • throngs; but, alas! the spell of dumbness is upon them all—there is not a
  • single warbler in the valley!
  • I know not why it was, but the sight of these birds, generally the
  • ministers of gladness, always oppressed me with melancholy. As in their
  • dumb beauty they hovered by me whilst I was walking, or looked down upon
  • me with steady curious eyes from out the foliage, I was almost inclined to
  • fancy that they knew they were gazing upon a stranger, and that they
  • commiserated his fate.
  • CHAPTER XXIX
  • A professor of the fine arts—His persecutions—Something about
  • tattooing and tabooing—Two anecdotes in illustration of the
  • latter—A few thoughts on the Typee dialect.
  • In one of my strolls with Kory-Kory, in passing along the border of a
  • thick growth of bushes, my attention was arrested by a singular noise. On
  • entering the thicket, I witnessed for the first time the operation of
  • tattooing as performed by these islanders.
  • I beheld a man extended flat upon his back, on the ground, and, despite
  • the forced composure of his countenance, it was evident that he was
  • suffering agony. His tormentor bent over him, working away for all the
  • world like a stone-cutter with mallet and chisel. In one hand he held a
  • short slender stick, pointed with a shark’s tooth, on the upright end of
  • which he tapped with a small hammer-like piece of wood, thus puncturing
  • the skin, and charging it with the colouring matter in which the
  • instrument was dipped. A cocoa-nut shell containing this fluid was placed
  • upon the ground. It is prepared by mixing with a vegetable juice the ashes
  • of the “armor,” or candle-nut, always preserved for the purpose. Beside
  • the savage, and spread out upon a piece of soiled tappa, were a great
  • number of curious black-looking little implements of bone and wood, used
  • in the various divisions of his art. A few terminated in a single fine
  • point, and, like very delicate pencils, were employed in giving the
  • finishing touches, or in operating upon the more sensitive portions of the
  • body, as was the case of the present instance. Others presented several
  • points distributed in a line, somewhat resembling the teeth of a saw.
  • These were employed in the coarser parts of the work, and particularly in
  • pricking in straight marks. Some presented their points disposed in small
  • figures, and being placed upon the body, were, by a single blow of the
  • hammer, made to leave their indelible impression. I observed a few, the
  • handles of which were mysteriously curved, as if intended to be introduced
  • into the orifice of the ear, with a view perhaps of beating the tattoo
  • upon the tympanum. Altogether, the sight of these strange instruments
  • recalled to mind that display of cruel-looking mother-of-pearl-handled
  • things which one sees in their velvet-lined cases at the elbow of a
  • dentist.
  • The artist was not at this time engaged on an original sketch, his subject
  • being a venerable savage, whose tattooing had become somewhat faded with
  • age and needed a few repairs, and accordingly he was merely employed in
  • touching up the works of some of the old masters of the Typee school, as
  • delineated upon the human canvas before him. The parts operated upon were
  • the eyelids, where a longitudinal streak, like the one which adorned
  • Kory-Kory, crossed the countenance of the victim.
  • In spite of all the efforts of the poor old man, sundry twitchings and
  • screwings of the muscles of the face denoted the exquisite sensibility of
  • these shutters to the windows of his soul, which he was now having
  • repainted. But the artist, with a heart as callous as that of an army
  • surgeon, continued his performance, enlivening his labours with a wild
  • chant, tapping away the while as merrily as a woodpecker.
  • So deeply engaged was he in his work, that he had not observed our
  • approach, until, after having enjoyed an unmolested view of the operation,
  • I chose to attract his attention. As soon as he perceived me, supposing
  • that I sought him in his professional capacity, he seized hold of me in a
  • paroxysm of delight, and was all eagerness to begin the work. When,
  • however, I gave him to understand that he had altogether mistaken my
  • views, nothing could exceed his grief and disappointment. But recovering
  • from this, he seemed determined not to credit my assertion, and grasping
  • his implements, he flourished them about in fearful vicinity to my face,
  • going through an imaginary performance of his art, and every moment
  • bursting into some admiring exclamation at the beauty of his designs.
  • Horrified at the bare thought of being rendered hideous for life if the
  • wretch were to execute his purpose upon me, I struggled to get away from
  • him, while Kory-Kory, turning traitor, stood by, and besought me to comply
  • with the outrageous request. On my reiterated refusals the excited artist
  • got half beside himself, and was overwhelmed with sorrow at losing so
  • noble an opportunity of distinguishing himself in his profession.
  • The idea of engrafting his tattooing upon my white skin filled him with
  • all a painter’s enthusiasm: again and again he gazed into my countenance,
  • and every fresh glimpse seemed to add to the vehemence of his ambition.
  • Not knowing to what extremities he might proceed, and shuddering at the
  • ruin he might inflict upon my figurehead, I now endeavoured to draw off
  • his attention from it, and holding out my arm in a fit of desperation,
  • signed to him to commence operations. But he rejected the compromise
  • indignantly, and still continued his attack on my face, as though nothing
  • short of that would satisfy him. When his forefinger swept across my
  • features, in laying out the borders of those parallel bands which were to
  • encircle my countenance, the flesh fairly crawled upon my bones. At last,
  • half wild with terror and indignation, I succeeded in breaking away from
  • the three savages, and fled towards old Marheyo’s house, pursued by the
  • indomitable artist, who ran after me, implements in hand. Kory-Kory,
  • however, at last interfered, and drew him off from the chase.
  • This incident opened my eyes to a new danger; and I now felt convinced
  • that in some luckless hour I should be disfigured in such a manner as
  • never more to have the _face_ to return to my countrymen, even should an
  • opportunity offer.
  • These apprehensions were greatly increased by the desire which King Mehevi
  • and several of the inferior chiefs now manifested that I should be
  • tattooed. The pleasure of the king was first signified to me some three
  • days after my casual encounter with Karky the artist. Heavens! what
  • imprecations I showered upon that Karky. Doubtless he had plotted a
  • conspiracy against me and my countenance, and would never rest until his
  • diabolical purpose was accomplished. Several times I met him in various
  • parts of the valley, and, invariably, whenever he descried me, he came
  • running after me with his mallet and chisel, flourishing them about my
  • face as if he longed to begin. What an object he would have made of me!
  • When the king first expressed his wish to me, I made known to him my utter
  • abhorrence of the measure, and worked myself into such a state of
  • excitement, that he absolutely stared at me in amazement. It evidently
  • surpassed his majesty’s comprehension how any sober-minded and sensible
  • individual could entertain the least possible objection to so beautifying
  • an operation.
  • Soon afterwards he repeated his suggestion, and meeting with a like
  • repulse, showed some symptoms of displeasure at my obduracy. On his a
  • third time renewing his request, I plainly perceived that something must
  • be done, or my visage was ruined for ever; I therefore screwed up my
  • courage to the sticking point, and declared my willingness to have both
  • arms tattooed from just above the wrist to the shoulder. His majesty was
  • greatly pleased at the proposition, and I was congratulating myself with
  • having thus compromised the matter, when he intimated that as a thing of
  • course my face was first to undergo the operation. I was fairly driven to
  • despair; nothing but the utter ruin of my “face divine,” as the poets call
  • it, would, I perceived, satisfy the inexorable Mehevi and his chiefs, or
  • rather that infernal Karky, for he was at the bottom of it all.
  • The only consolation afforded me was a choice of patterns: I was at
  • perfect liberty to have my face spanned by three horizontal bars, after
  • the fashion of my serving-man’s; or to have as many oblique stripes
  • slanting across it: or if, like a true courtier, I chose to model my style
  • on that of royalty, I might wear a sort of freemason badge upon my
  • countenance in the shape of a mystic triangle. However, I would have none
  • of these, though the king most earnestly impressed upon my mind that my
  • choice was wholly unrestricted. At last, seeing my unconquerable
  • repugnance, he ceased to importune me.
  • But not so some other of the savages. Hardly a day passed but I was
  • subjected to their annoying requests, until at last my existence became a
  • burden to me; the pleasures I had previously enjoyed no longer afforded me
  • delight, and all my former desire to escape from the valley now revived
  • with additional force.
  • A fact which I soon afterwards learned augmented my apprehension. The
  • whole system of tattooing was, I found, connected with their religion; and
  • it was evident, therefore, that they were resolved to make a convert of
  • me.
  • In the decoration of the chiefs, it seems to be necessary to exercise the
  • most elaborate pencilling; while some of the inferior natives looked as if
  • they had been daubed over indiscriminately with a house-painter’s brush. I
  • remember one fellow who prided himself hugely upon a great oblong patch,
  • placed high upon his back, and who always reminded me of a man with a
  • blister of Spanish flies stuck between his shoulders. Another whom I
  • frequently met had the hollow of his eyes tattooed in two regular squares,
  • and his visual organs being remarkably brilliant, they gleamed forth from
  • out this setting like a couple of diamonds inserted in ebony.
  • Although convinced that tattooing was a religious observance, still the
  • nature of the connection between it and the superstitious idolatry of the
  • people was a point upon which I could never obtain any information. Like
  • the still more important system of the “Taboo,” it always appeared
  • inexplicable to me.
  • There is a marked similarity, almost an identity, between the religious
  • institutions of most of the Polynesian islands, and in all exists the
  • mysterious “Taboo,” restricted in its uses to a greater or less extent. So
  • strange and complex in its arrangements is this remarkable system, that I
  • have in several cases met with individuals who, after residing for years
  • among the islands in the Pacific, and acquiring a considerable knowledge
  • of the language, have nevertheless been altogether unable to give any
  • satisfactory account of its operations. Situated as I was in the Typee
  • valley, I perceived every hour the effects of this all-controlling power,
  • without in the least comprehending it. Those effects were, indeed,
  • wide-spread and universal, pervading the most important as well as the
  • minutest transactions of life. The savage, in short, lives in the
  • continual observance of its dictates, which guide and control every action
  • of his being.
  • For several days after entering the valley I had been saluted at least
  • fifty times in the twenty-four hours with the talismanic word “Taboo”
  • shrieked in my ears, at some gross violation of its provisions, of which I
  • had unconsciously been guilty. The day after our arrival I happened to
  • hand some tobacco to Toby over the head of a native who sat between us. He
  • started up, as if stung by an adder; while the whole company, manifesting
  • an equal degree of horror, simultaneously screamed out “Taboo!” I never
  • again perpetrated a similar piece of ill-manners, which, indeed, was
  • forbidden by the canons of good breeding, as well as by the mandates of
  • the taboo. But it was not always so easy to perceive wherein you had
  • contravened the spirit of this institution. I was many times called to
  • order, if I may use the phrase, when I could not for the life of me
  • conjecture what particular offence I had committed.
  • One day I was strolling through a secluded portion of the valley, and
  • hearing the musical sound of the cloth-mallet at a little distance, I
  • turned down a path that conducted me in a few moments to a house where
  • there were some half-dozen girls employed in making tappa. This was an
  • operation I had frequently witnessed, and had handled the bark in all the
  • various stages of its preparation. On the present occasion the females
  • were intent upon their occupation, and after looking up and talking gaily
  • to me for a few moments, they resumed their employment. I regarded them
  • for awhile in silence, and then, carelessly picking up a handful of the
  • material that lay around, proceeded unconsciously to pick it apart. While
  • thus engaged, I was suddenly startled by a scream, like that of a whole
  • boarding-school of young ladies just on the point of going into hysterics.
  • Leaping up with the idea of seeing a score of Happar warriors about to
  • perform anew the Sabine atrocity, I found myself confronted by the company
  • of girls, who, having dropped their work, stood before me with starting
  • eyes, swelling bosoms, and fingers pointed in horror towards me.
  • Thinking that some venomous reptile must be concealed in the bark which I
  • held in my hand, I began cautiously to separate and examine it. Whilst I
  • did so the horrified girls redoubled their shrieks. Their wild cries and
  • frightened motions actually alarmed me, and throwing down the tappa, I was
  • about to rush from the house, when in the same instant their clamours
  • ceased, and one of them, seizing me by the arm, pointed to the broken
  • fibres that had just fallen from my grasp, and screamed in my ears the
  • fatal word “Taboo!”
  • I subsequently found out that the fabric they were engaged in making was
  • of a peculiar kind, destined to be worn on the heads of the females, and
  • through every stage of its manufacture was guarded by a vigorous taboo,
  • which interdicted the whole masculine gender from even so much as touching
  • it.
  • Frequently in walking through the groves I observed bread-fruit and
  • cocoa-nut trees, with a wreath of leaves twined in a peculiar fashion
  • about their trunks. This was the mark of the taboo. The trees themselves,
  • their fruit, and even the shadows they cast upon the ground, were
  • consecrated by its presence. In the same way a pipe, which the king had
  • bestowed upon me, was rendered sacred in the eyes of the natives, none of
  • whom could I ever prevail upon to smoke from it. The bowl was encircled by
  • a woven band of grass, somewhat resembling those Turks’ heads occasionally
  • worked in the handles of our whip-stalks.
  • A similar badge was once braided about my wrist by the royal hand of
  • Mehevi himself, who, as soon as he had concluded the operation, pronounced
  • me “Taboo.” This occurred shortly after Toby’s disappearance; and were it
  • not that from the first moment I had entered the valley the natives had
  • treated me with uniform kindness, I should have supposed that their
  • conduct afterwards was to be ascribed to the fact that I received this
  • sacred investiture.
  • The capricious operations of the taboo are not its least remarkable
  • feature: to enumerate them all would be impossible. Black hogs—infants to
  • a certain age—women in an interesting situation—young men while the
  • operation of tattooing their faces is going on—and certain parts of the
  • valley during the continuance of a shower—are alike fenced about by the
  • operation of the taboo.
  • I witnessed a striking instance of its effects in the bay of Tior, my
  • visit to which place occurred a few days before leaving the ship. On that
  • occasion our worthy captain formed one of the party. He was a most
  • insatiable sportsman. Outward bound, and off the pitch of Cape Horn, he
  • used to sit on the taffrail, and keep the steward loading three or four
  • old fowling-pieces, with which he would bring down albatrosses, Cape
  • pigeons, jays, petrels, and divers other marine fowl, who followed
  • chattering in our wake. The sailors were struck aghast at his impiety, and
  • one and all attributed our forty days’ beating about that horrid headland
  • to his sacrilegious slaughter of these inoffensive birds.
  • At Tior, he evinced the same disregard for the religious prejudices of the
  • islanders as he had previously shown for the superstitions of the sailors.
  • Having heard that there were a considerable number of fowls in the
  • valley—the progeny of some cocks and hens accidentally left there by an
  • English vessel, and which, being strictly tabooed, flew about almost in a
  • wild state—he determined to break through all restraints, and be the death
  • of them. Accordingly, he provided himself with a most formidable-looking
  • gun, and announced his landing on the beach by shooting down a noble cock,
  • that was crowing what proved to be his own funeral dirge on the limb of an
  • adjoining tree. “Taboo,” shrieked the affrighted savages. “Oh, hang your
  • taboo,” says the nautical sportsman; “talk taboo to the marines”; and bang
  • went the piece again, and down came another victim. At this the natives
  • ran scampering through the groves, horror-struck at the enormity of the
  • act.
  • All that afternoon the rocky sides of the valley rang with successive
  • reports, and the superb plumage of many a beautiful fowl was ruffled by
  • the fatal bullet. Had it not been that the French admiral, with a large
  • party, was then in the glen, I have no doubt that the natives, although
  • their tribe was small and dispirited, would have inflicted summary
  • vengeance upon the man who thus outraged their most sacred institutions;
  • as it was, they contrived to annoy him not a little.
  • Thirsting with his exertions, the skipper directed his steps to a stream;
  • but the savages, who had followed at a little distance, perceiving his
  • object, rushed towards him and forced him away from its bank—his lips
  • would have polluted it. Wearied at last, he sought to enter a house that
  • he might rest for awhile on the mats; its inmates gathered tumultuously
  • about the door and denied him admittance. He coaxed and blustered by
  • turns, but in vain; the natives were neither to be intimidated nor
  • appeased, and as a final resort he was obliged to call together his boat’s
  • crew, and pull away from what he termed the most infernal place he ever
  • stepped upon.
  • Lucky was it for him and for us that we were not honoured on our departure
  • by a salute of stones from the hands of the exasperated Tiors. In this
  • way, on the neighbouring island of Ropo, were killed, but a few weeks
  • previously, and for a nearly similar offence, the master and three of the
  • crew of the K——.
  • I cannot determine, with anything approaching to certainty, what power it
  • is that imposes the taboo. When I consider the slight disparity of
  • condition among the islanders—the very limited and inconsiderable
  • prerogatives of the king and chiefs—and the loose and indefinite functions
  • of the priesthood, most of whom were hardly to be distinguished from the
  • rest of their countrymen, I am wholly at a loss where to look for the
  • authority which regulates this potent institution. It is imposed upon
  • something to-day, and withdrawn to-morrow; while its operations in other
  • cases are perpetual. Sometimes its restrictions only affect a single
  • individual—sometimes a particular family—sometimes a whole tribe; and, in
  • a few instances, they extend not merely over the various clans on a single
  • island, but over all the inhabitants of an entire group. In illustration
  • of this latter peculiarity, I may cite the law which forbids a female to
  • enter a canoe—a prohibition which prevails upon all the northern Marquesas
  • Islands.
  • The word itself (taboo) is used in more than one signification. It is
  • sometimes used by a parent to his child, when, in the exercise of parental
  • authority, he forbids it to perform a particular action. Anything opposed
  • to the ordinary customs of the islanders, although not expressly
  • prohibited, is said to be “taboo.”
  • The Typee language is one very difficult to be acquired; it bears a close
  • resemblance to the other Polynesian dialects, all of which show a common
  • origin. The duplication of words, as “lumee lumee,” “poee poee,” “muee
  • muee,” is one of their peculiar features. But another, and a more annoying
  • one, is the different sense in which one and the same word is employed;
  • its various meanings all have a certain connection, which only makes the
  • matter more puzzling. So one brisk, lively little word is obliged, like a
  • servant in a poor family, to perform all sorts of duties. For instance—one
  • particular combination of syllables expresses the ideas of sleep, rest,
  • reclining, sitting, leaning, and all other things anyways analogous
  • thereto, the particular meaning being shown chiefly by a variety of
  • gestures, and the eloquent expression of the countenance.
  • CHAPTER XXX
  • Strange custom of the islanders—Their chanting, and the
  • peculiarity of their voice—Rapture of the king at first hearing a
  • song—A new dignity conferred on the author—Musical instruments in
  • the valley—Admiration of the savages at beholding a pugilistic
  • performance—Swimming infant—Beautiful tresses of the
  • girls—Ointment for the hair.
  • Sadly discursive as I have already been, I must still further entreat the
  • reader’s patience, as I am about to string together, without any attempt
  • at order, a few odds and ends of things not hitherto mentioned, but which
  • are either curious in themselves, or peculiar to the Typees.
  • There was one singular custom, observed in old Marheyo’s domestic
  • establishment, which often excited my surprise. Every night, before
  • retiring, the inmates of the house gathered together on the mats, and
  • squatting upon their haunches, after the universal practice of these
  • islanders, would commence a low, dismal, and monotonous chant,
  • accompanying the voice with the instrumental melody produced by two small
  • half-rotten sticks tapped slowly together, a pair of which were held in
  • the hands of each person present. Thus would they employ themselves for an
  • hour or two, sometimes longer. Lying in the gloom which wrapped the
  • farther end of the house, I could not avoid looking at them, although the
  • spectacle suggested nothing but unpleasant reflections. The flickering
  • rays of the “armor” nut just served to reveal their savage lineaments,
  • without dispelling the darkness that hovered about them.
  • Sometimes when, after falling into a kind of doze, and awaking suddenly in
  • the midst of these doleful chantings, my eye would fall upon the
  • wild-looking group engaged in their strange occupation, with their naked
  • tattooed limbs, and shaven heads disposed in a circle, I was almost
  • tempted to believe that I gazed upon a set of evil beings in the act of
  • working a frightful incantation.
  • What was the meaning or purpose of this custom, whether it was practised
  • merely as a diversion, or whether it was a religious exercise, a sort of
  • family prayers, I never could discover.
  • The sounds produced by the natives on these occasions were of a most
  • singular description; and had I not actually been present, I never would
  • have believed that such curious noises could have been produced by human
  • beings.
  • To savages, generally, is imputed a guttural articulation. This, however,
  • is not always the case, especially among the inhabitants of the Polynesian
  • Archipelago. The labial melody with which the Typee girls carry on an
  • ordinary conversation, giving a musical prolongation to the final syllable
  • of every sentence, and chirping out some of the words with a liquid,
  • bird-like accent, was singularly pleasing.
  • The men, however, are not quite so harmonious in their utterance; and when
  • excited upon any subject, would work themselves up into a sort of wordy
  • paroxysm, during which all descriptions of rough-sided sounds were
  • projected from their mouths, with a force and rapidity which was
  • absolutely astonishing.
  • * * * * * * * * * *
  • Although these savages are remarkably fond of chanting, still they appear
  • to have no idea whatever of singing, at least as the art is practised
  • among other nations.
  • I never shall forget the first time I happened to roar out a stave in the
  • presence of the noble Mehevi. It was a stanza from the “Bavarian
  • Broom-seller.” His Typean majesty, with all his court, gazed upon me in
  • amazement, as if I had displayed some preternatural faculty which Heaven
  • had denied to them. The king was delighted with the verse; but the chorus
  • fairly transported him. At his solicitation, I sang it again and again,
  • and nothing could be more ludicrous than his vain attempts to catch the
  • air and the words. The royal savage seemed to think that by screwing all
  • the features of his face into the end of his nose, he might possibly
  • succeed in the undertaking, but it failed to answer the purpose; and in
  • the end he gave it up, and consoled himself by listening to my repetition
  • of the sounds fifty times over.
  • Previous to Mehevi’s making the discovery, I had never been aware that
  • there was anything of the nightingale about me; but I was now promoted to
  • the place of court minstrel, in which capacity I was afterwards
  • perpetually called upon to officiate.
  • * * * * * * * * * *
  • Besides the sticks and the drums, there are no other musical instruments
  • among the Typees, except one which might appropriately be denominated a
  • nasal flute. It is somewhat longer than an ordinary fife, is made of a
  • beautiful scarlet-coloured reed, and has four or five stops, with a large
  • hole near one end, which latter is held just beneath the left nostril. The
  • other nostril being closed by a peculiar movement of the muscles about the
  • nose, the breath is forced into the tube, and produces a soft dulcet
  • sound, which is varied by the fingers running at random over the stops.
  • This is a favourite recreation with the females, and one in which Fayaway
  • greatly excelled. Awkward as such an instrument may appear, it was, in
  • Fayaway’s delicate little hands, one of the most graceful I have ever
  • seen. A young lady in the act of tormenting a guitar, strung about her
  • neck by a couple of yards of blue ribbon, is not half so engaging.
  • * * * * * * * * * *
  • Singing was not the only means I possessed of diverting the royal Mehevi
  • and his easy-going subjects. Nothing afforded them more pleasure than to
  • see me go through the attitudes of a pugilistic encounter. As not one of
  • the natives had soul enough in him to stand up like a man, and allow me to
  • hammer away at him, for my own personal gratification and that of the
  • king, I was necessitated to fight with an imaginary enemy, whom I
  • invariably made to knock under to my superior prowess. Sometimes, when
  • this sorely battered shadow retreated precipitately towards a group of the
  • savages, and, following him up, I rushed among them, dealing my blows
  • right and left, they would disperse in all directions, much to the
  • enjoyment of Mehevi, the chiefs, and themselves.
  • The noble art of self-defence appeared to be regarded by them as the
  • peculiar gift of the white man; and I make little doubt but that they
  • supposed armies of Europeans were drawn up provided with nothing else but
  • bony fists and stout hearts, with which they set to in column, and
  • pummelled one another at the word of command.
  • * * * * * * * * * *
  • One day, in company with Kory-Kory, I had repaired to the stream for the
  • purpose of bathing, when I observed a woman sitting upon a rock in the
  • midst of the current, and watching with the liveliest interest the gambols
  • of something, which at first I took to be an uncommonly large species of
  • frog that was sporting in the water near her. Attracted by the novelty of
  • the sight, I waded towards the spot where she sat, and could hardly credit
  • the evidence of my senses when I beheld a little infant, the period of
  • whose birth could not have extended back many days, paddling about as if
  • it had just risen to the surface, after being hatched into existence at
  • the bottom. Occasionally the delighted parent reached out her hand towards
  • it, when the little thing, uttering a faint cry, and striking out its tiny
  • limbs, would sidle for the rock, and the next moment be clasped to its
  • mother’s bosom. This was repeated again and again, the baby remaining in
  • the stream about a minute at a time. Once or twice it made wry faces at
  • swallowing a mouthful of water, and choked and spluttered as if on the
  • point of strangling. At such times, however, the mother snatched it up,
  • and by a process scarcely to be mentioned obliged it to eject the fluid.
  • For several weeks afterward I observed the woman bringing her child down
  • to the stream regularly every day, in the cool of the morning and evening,
  • and treating it to a bath. No wonder that the South Sea islanders are so
  • amphibious a race, when they are thus launched into the water as soon as
  • they see the light. I am convinced that it is as natural for a human being
  • to swim as it is for a duck. And yet, in civilized communities, how many
  • able-bodied individuals die, like so many drowning kittens, from the
  • occurrence of the most trivial accidents!
  • * * * * * * * * * *
  • The long, luxuriant, and glossy tresses of the Typee damsels often
  • attracted my admiration. A fine head of hair is the pride and joy of every
  • woman’s heart! Whether, against the express will of Providence, it is
  • twisted up on the crown of the head and there coiled away; whether it be
  • built up in a great tower, with combs and pins, or is plastered over the
  • head in sleek, shiny folds; or whether it be permitted to flow over the
  • shoulders in natural ringlets, it is always the pride of the owner, and
  • the glory of the toilette.
  • The Typee girls devote much of their time to the dressing of their hair
  • and redundant locks. After bathing, as they sometimes do five or six times
  • every day, the hair is carefully dried, and if they have been in the sea,
  • invariably washed in fresh water, and anointed with a highly-scented oil
  • extracted from the meat of the cocoa-nut. This oil is obtained in great
  • abundance, by the following very simple process:—
  • A large vessel of wood, with holes perforated in the bottom, is filled
  • with the pounded meat, and exposed to the rays of the sun. As the
  • oleaginous matter exudes, it falls in drops through the apertures into a
  • wide-mouthed calabash placed underneath. After a sufficient quantity has
  • thus been collected, the oil undergoes a purifying process, and is then
  • poured into the small spherical shells of the nuts of the moo-tree, which
  • are hollowed out to receive it. These nuts are then hermetically sealed
  • with a resinous gum, and the vegetable fragrance of their green rind soon
  • imparts to the oil a delightful odour. After a lapse of a few weeks, the
  • exterior shell of the nuts becomes quite dry and hard, and assumes a
  • beautiful carnation tint; and when opened they are found to be about
  • two-thirds full of an ointment of a light yellow colour, and diffusing the
  • sweetest perfume. This elegant little odorous globe would not be out of
  • place even upon the toilette of a queen. Its merits as a preparation for
  • the hair are undeniable,—it imparts to it a superb gloss and a silky
  • fineness.
  • CHAPTER XXXI
  • Apprehensions of evil—Frightful discovery—Some remarks on
  • cannibalism—Second battle with the Happars—Savage
  • spectacle—Mysterious feast—Subsequent disclosures.
  • From the time of my casual encounter with Karky the artist, my life was
  • one of absolute wretchedness. Not a day passed but I was persecuted by the
  • solicitations of some of the natives to subject myself to the odious
  • operation of tattooing. Their importunities drove me half wild, for I felt
  • how easily they might work their will upon me regarding this, or anything
  • else which they took into their heads. Still, however, the behaviour of
  • the islanders toward me was as kind as ever. Faraway was quite as
  • engaging; Kory-Kory as devoted; and Mehevi the king just as gracious and
  • condescending as before. But I had now been three months in their valley,
  • as nearly as I could estimate; I had grown familiar with the narrow limits
  • to which my wanderings had been confined; and I began bitterly to feel the
  • state of captivity in which I was held. There was no one with whom I could
  • freely converse; no one to whom I could communicate my thoughts; no one
  • who could sympathize with my sufferings. A thousand times I thought how
  • much more endurable would have been my lot had Toby still been with me.
  • But I was left alone, and the thought was terrible to me. Still, despite
  • my griefs, I did all in my power to appear composed and cheerful, well
  • knowing that by manifesting any uneasiness, or any desire to escape, I
  • should only frustrate my object.
  • It was during the period I was in this unhappy frame of mind, that the
  • painful malady under which I had been labouring—after having almost
  • completely subsided—began again to show itself, and with symptoms as
  • violent as ever. This added calamity nearly unmanned me; the recurrence of
  • the complaint proved that, without powerful remedial applications, all
  • hope of cure was futile; and when I reflected that just beyond the
  • elevations which bound me in, was the medical relief I needed, and that,
  • although so near, it was impossible for me to avail myself of it, the
  • thought was misery.
  • In this wretched situation, every circumstance which evinced the savage
  • nature of the beings at whose mercy I was, augmented the fearful
  • apprehensions that consumed me. An occurrence which happened about this
  • time affected me most powerfully.
  • I have already mentioned, that from the ridge-pole of Marheyo’s house were
  • suspended a number of packages enveloped in tappa. Many of these I had
  • often seen in the hands of the natives, and their contents had been
  • examined in my presence. But there were three packages hanging very nearly
  • over the place where I lay, which from their remarkable appearance had
  • often excited my curiosity. Several times I had asked Kory-Kory to show me
  • their contents; but my servitor, who in almost every other particular had
  • acceded to my wishes, always refused to gratify me in this.
  • One day, returning unexpectedly from the Ti, my arrival seemed to throw
  • the inmates of the house into the greatest confusion. They were seated
  • together on the mats, and by the lines which extended from the roof to the
  • floor I immediately perceived that the mysterious packages were, for some
  • purpose or other, under inspection. The evident alarm the savages betrayed
  • filled me with forebodings of evil, and with an uncontrollable desire to
  • penetrate the secret so jealously guarded. Despite the efforts of Marheyo
  • and Kory-Kory to restrain me, I forced my way into the midst of the
  • circle, and just caught a glimpse of three human heads, which others of
  • the party were hurriedly enveloping in the coverings from which they had
  • been taken.
  • One of the three I distinctly saw. It was in a state of perfect
  • preservation, and from the slight glimpse I had of it, seemed to have been
  • subjected to some smoking operation which had reduced it to the dry, hard,
  • and mummy-like appearance it presented. The two long scalp-locks were
  • twisted up into balls upon the crown of the head, in the same way that the
  • individual had worn them during life. The sunken cheeks were rendered yet
  • more ghastly by the rows of glistening teeth which protruded from between
  • the lips, while the sockets of the eyes—filled with oval bits of
  • mother-of-pearl shell, with a black spot in the centre—heightened the
  • hideousness of its aspect.
  • Two of the three were heads of the islanders; but the third, to my horror,
  • was that of a white man. Although it had been quickly removed from my
  • sight, still the glimpse I had of it was enough to convince me that I
  • could not be mistaken.
  • Gracious God! what dreadful thoughts entered my mind. In solving this
  • mystery, perhaps I had solved another, and the fate of my lost companion
  • might be revealed in the shocking spectacle I had just witnessed. I longed
  • to have torn off the folds of cloth, and satisfied the awful doubts under
  • which I laboured. But before I had recovered from the consternation into
  • which I had been thrown, the fatal packages were hoisted aloft and once
  • more swung over my head. The natives now gathered round me tumultuously,
  • and laboured to convince me that what I had just seen were the heads of
  • three Happar warriors, who had been slain in battle. This glaring
  • falsehood added to my alarm, and it was not until I reflected that I had
  • observed the packages swinging from their elevation before Toby’s
  • disappearance, that I could at all recover my composure.
  • But although this horrible apprehension had been dispelled, I had
  • discovered enough to fill me, in my present state of mind, with the most
  • bitter reflections. It was plain that I had seen the last relic of some
  • unfortunate wretch, who must have been massacred on the beach by the
  • savages, in one of those perilous trading adventures which I have before
  • described.
  • It was not, however, alone the murder of the stranger that overcame me
  • with gloom. I shuddered at the idea of the subsequent fate his inanimate
  • body might have met with. Was the same doom reserved for me? Was I
  • destined to perish like him—like him, perhaps, to be devoured, and my head
  • to be preserved as a fearful memento of the event? My imagination ran riot
  • in these horrid speculations, and I felt certain that the worst possible
  • evils would befall me. But whatever were my misgivings, I studiously
  • concealed them from the islanders, as well as the full extent of the
  • discovery I had made.
  • Although the assurances which the Typees had often given me, that they
  • never ate human flesh, had not convinced me that such was the case, yet,
  • having been so long a time in the valley without witnessing anything which
  • indicated the existence of the practice, I began to hope that it was an
  • event of very rare occurrence, and that I should be spared the horror of
  • witnessing it during my stay among them: but, alas! these hopes were soon
  • destroyed.
  • It is a singular fact, that in all our accounts of cannibal tribes we have
  • seldom received the testimony of an eye-witness to the revolting practice.
  • The horrible conclusion has almost always been derived from the
  • second-hand evidence of Europeans, or else from the admissions of the
  • savages themselves, after they have in some degree become civilized. The
  • Polynesians are aware of the detestation in which Europeans hold this
  • custom, and therefore invariably deny its existence, and, with the craft
  • peculiar to savages, endeavour to conceal every trace of it.
  • But to my story.
  • About a week after my discovery of the contents of the mysterious
  • packages, I happened to be at the Ti, when another war-alarm was sounded,
  • and the natives, rushing to their arms, sallied out to resist a second
  • incursion of the Happar invaders. The same scene was again repeated, only
  • that on this occasion I heard at least fifteen reports of muskets from the
  • mountains during the time that the skirmish lasted. An hour or two after
  • its termination, loud pæans chanted through the valley announced the
  • approach of the victors. I stood with Kory-Kory leaning against the
  • railing of the pi-pi, awaiting their advance, when a tumultuous crowd of
  • islanders emerged with wild clamours from the neighbouring groves. In the
  • midst of them marched four men, one preceding the other at regular
  • intervals of eight or ten feet, with poles of a corresponding length,
  • extending from shoulder to shoulder, to which were lashed with thongs of
  • bark three long narrow bundles, carefully wrapped in ample coverings of
  • freshly plucked palm-leaves, tacked together with slivers of bamboo. Here
  • and there upon these green winding-sheets might be seen the stains of
  • blood, while the warriors who carried the frightful burdens displayed upon
  • their naked limbs similar sanguinary marks. The shaven head of the
  • foremost had a deep gash upon it, and the clotted gore which had flowed
  • from the wound remained in dry patches around it. The savage seemed to be
  • sinking under the weight he bore. The bright tattooing upon his body was
  • covered with blood and dust; his inflamed eyes rolled in their sockets,
  • and his whole appearance denoted extraordinary suffering and exertion;
  • yet, sustained by some powerful impulse, he continued to advance, while
  • the throng around him with wild cheers sought to encourage him. The other
  • three men were marked about the arms and breasts with several slight
  • wounds, which they somewhat ostentatiously displayed.
  • These four individuals, having been the most active in the late encounter,
  • claimed the honour of bearing the bodies of their slain enemies to the Ti.
  • Such was the conclusion I drew from my own observations, and, as far as I
  • could understand, from the explanation which Kory-Kory gave me.
  • The royal Mehevi walked by the side of these heroes. He carried in one
  • hand a musket, from the barrel of which was suspended a small canvas pouch
  • of powder, and in the other he grasped a short javelin, which he held
  • before him and regarded with fierce exultation. This javelin he had
  • wrested from a celebrated champion of the Happars, who had ignominiously
  • fled, and was pursued by his foes beyond the summit of the mountain.
  • When within a short distance of the Ti, the warrior with the wounded head,
  • who proved to be Narmonee, tottered forward two or three steps, and fell
  • helplessly to the ground; but not before another had caught the end of the
  • pole from his shoulder, and placed it upon his own.
  • The excited throng of islanders, who surrounded the person of the king and
  • the dead bodies of the enemy, approached the spot where I stood,
  • brandishing their rude implements of warfare, many of which were bruised
  • and broken, and uttering continual shouts of triumph. When the crowd drew
  • up opposite the Ti, I set myself to watch their proceedings most
  • attentively; but scarcely had they halted when my servitor, who had left
  • my side for an instant, touched my arm, and proposed our returning to
  • Marheyo’s house. To this I objected; but, to my surprise, Kory-Kory
  • reiterated his request, and with an unusual vehemence of manner. Still,
  • however, I refused to comply, and was retreating before him, as in his
  • importunity he pressed upon me, when I felt a heavy hand laid upon my
  • shoulder, and turning round, encountered the bulky form of Mow-Mow, a
  • one-eyed chief, who had just detached himself from the crowd below, and
  • had mounted the rear of the pi-pi upon which we stood. His cheek had been
  • pierced by the point of a spear, and the wound imparted a still more
  • frightful expression to his hideously tattooed face, already deformed by
  • the loss of an eye. The warrior, without uttering a syllable, pointed
  • fiercely in the direction of Marheyo’s house, while Kory-Kory, at the same
  • time presenting his back, desired me to mount.
  • I declined this offer, but intimated my willingness to withdraw, and moved
  • slowly along the piazza, wondering what could be the cause of this unusual
  • treatment. A few minutes’ consideration convinced me that the savages were
  • about to celebrate some hideous rite in connexion with their peculiar
  • customs, and at which they were determined I should not be present. I
  • descended from the pi-pi, and attended by Kory-Kory, who on this occasion
  • did not show his usual commiseration for my lameness, but seemed only
  • anxious to hurry me on, walked away from the place. As I passed through
  • the noisy throng, which by this time completely environed the Ti, I looked
  • with fearful curiosity at the three packages, which now were deposited
  • upon the ground; but although I had no doubt as to their contents, still
  • their thick coverings prevented my actually detecting the form of a human
  • body.
  • The next morning, shortly after sunrise, the same thundering sounds which
  • had awakened me from sleep on the second day of the Feast of Calabashes,
  • assured me that the savages were on the eve of celebrating another, and,
  • as I fully believed, a horrible solemnity.
  • All the inmates of the house, with the exception of Marheyo, his son, and
  • Tinor, after assuming their gala dresses, departed in the direction of the
  • Taboo Groves.
  • Although I did not anticipate a compliance with my request, still, with a
  • view of testing the truth of my suspicions, I proposed to Kory-Kory that,
  • according to our usual custom in the morning, we should take a stroll to
  • the Ti: he positively refused; and when I renewed the request, he evinced
  • his determination to prevent my going there; and, to divert my mind from
  • the subject, he offered to accompany me to the stream. We accordingly
  • went, and bathed. On our coming back to the house, I was surprised to find
  • that all its inmates had returned, and were lounging upon the mats as
  • usual, although the drums still sounded from the groves.
  • The rest of the day I spent with Kory-Kory and Fayaway, wandering about a
  • part of the valley situated in an opposite direction from the Ti, and
  • whenever I so much as looked towards that building, although it was hidden
  • from view by intervening trees, and at the distance of more than a mile,
  • my attendant would exclaim, “Taboo, taboo!”
  • At the various houses where we stopped, I found many of the inhabitants
  • reclining at their ease, or pursuing some light occupation, as if nothing
  • unusual were going forward; but amongst them all I did not perceive a
  • single chief or warrior. When I asked several of the people why they were
  • not at the “Hoolah Hoolah” (the feast), they uniformly answered the
  • question in a manner which implied that it was not intended for them, but
  • for Mehevi, Narmonee, Mow-Mow, Kolor, Womonoo, Kalow, running over, in
  • their desire to make me comprehend their meaning, the names of all the
  • principal chiefs.
  • Everything, in short, strengthened my suspicions with regard to the nature
  • of the festival they were now celebrating; and which amounted almost to a
  • certainty. While in Nukuheva I had frequently been informed that the whole
  • tribe were never present at these cannibal banquets, but the chiefs and
  • priests only; and everything I now observed agreed with the account.
  • The sound of the drums continued without intermission the whole day, and
  • falling continually upon my ear, caused me a sensation of horror which I
  • am unable to describe. On the following day, hearing none of those noisy
  • indications of revelry, I concluded that the inhuman feast was terminated,
  • and feeling a kind of morbid curiosity to discover whether the Ti might
  • furnish any evidence of what had taken place there, I proposed to
  • Kory-Kory to walk there. To this proposition he replied by pointing with
  • his finger to the newly-risen sun, and then up to the zenith, intimating
  • that our visit must be deferred until noon. Shortly after that hour we
  • accordingly proceeded to the Taboo Groves, and as soon as we entered their
  • precincts, I looked fearfully round in quest of some memorial of the scene
  • which had so lately been acted there; but everything appeared as usual. On
  • reaching the Ti, we found Mehevi and a few chiefs reclining on the mats,
  • who gave me as friendly a reception as ever. No allusions of any kind were
  • made by them to the recent events; and I refrained, for obvious reasons,
  • from referring to them myself.
  • After staying a short time, I took my leave. In passing along the piazza,
  • previously to descending from the pi-pi, I observed a curiously carved
  • vessel of wood, of considerable size, with a cover placed over it, of the
  • same material, and which resembled in shape a small canoe. It was
  • surrounded by a low railing of bamboos, the top of which was scarcely a
  • foot from the ground. As the vessel had been placed in its present
  • position since my last visit, I at once concluded that it must have some
  • connexion with the recent festival; and, prompted by a curiosity I could
  • not repress, in passing it I raised one end of the cover; at the same
  • moment the chiefs, perceiving my design, loudly ejaculated, “Taboo!
  • taboo!” But the slight glimpse sufficed; my eyes fell upon the disordered
  • members of a human skeleton, the bones still fresh with moisture, and with
  • particles of flesh clinging to them here and there!
  • Kory-Kory, who had been a little in advance of me, attracted by the
  • exclamations of the chiefs, turned round in time to witness the expression
  • of horror on my countenance. He now hurried towards me, pointing at the
  • same time to the canoe, and exclaiming, rapidly, “Puarkee! puarkee!” (Pig,
  • pig.) I pretended to yield to the deception, and repeated the words after
  • him several times, as though acquiescing in what he said. The other
  • savages, either deceived by my conduct, or unwilling to manifest their
  • displeasure at what could not now be remedied, took no further notice of
  • the occurrence, and I immediately left the Ti.
  • All that night I lay awake, revolving in my mind the fearful situation in
  • which I was placed. The last horrid revelation had now been made, and the
  • full sense of my condition rushed upon my mind with a force I had never
  • before experienced.
  • Where, thought I, desponding, is there the slightest prospect of escape?
  • The only person who seemed to possess the ability to assist me was the
  • stranger, Marnoo; but would he ever return to the valley? and if he did,
  • should I be permitted to hold any communication with him? It seemed as if
  • I were cut off from every source of hope, and that nothing remained but
  • passively to await whatever fate was in store for me. A thousand times I
  • endeavoured to account for the mysterious conduct of the natives. For what
  • conceivable purpose did they thus retain me a captive? What could be their
  • object in treating me with such apparent kindness, and did it not cover
  • some treacherous scheme? Or, if they had no other design than to hold me a
  • prisoner, how should I be able to pass away my days in this narrow valley,
  • deprived of all intercourse with civilized beings, and for ever separated
  • from friends and home?
  • One only hope remained to me. The French could not long defer a visit to
  • the bay, and if they should permanently locate any of their troops in the
  • valley, the savages could not for any length of time conceal my existence
  • from them. But what reason had I to suppose that I should be spared until
  • such an event occurred—an event which might be postponed by a hundred
  • different contingencies?
  • CHAPTER XXXII
  • The stranger again arrives in the valley—Singular interview with
  • him—Attempt to escape—Failure—Melancholy situation—Sympathy of
  • Marheyo.
  • “Marnoo, Marnoo pemi!” Such were the welcome sounds which fell upon my ear
  • some ten days after the event related in the preceding chapter. Once more
  • the approach of the stranger was heralded, and the intelligence operated
  • upon me like magic. Again I should be able to converse with him in my own
  • language; and I resolved, at all hazards, to concert with him some scheme,
  • however desperate, to rescue me from a condition that had now become
  • insupportable.
  • As he drew near, I remembered with many misgivings the inauspicious
  • termination of our former interview; and when he entered the house, I
  • watched with intense anxiety the reception he met with from its inmates.
  • To my joy, his appearance was hailed with the liveliest pleasure; and
  • accosting me kindly, he seated himself by my side, and entered into
  • conversation with the natives around him. It soon appeared, however, that
  • on this occasion he had not any intelligence of importance to communicate.
  • I inquired of him from whence he had last come? He replied, from Pueearka,
  • his native valley, and that he intended to return to it the same day.
  • At once it struck me that, could I but reach that valley under his
  • protection, I might easily from thence reach Nukuheva by water; and,
  • animated by the prospect which this plan held out, I disclosed it in a few
  • brief words to the stranger, and asked him how it could be best
  • accomplished. My heart sunk within me when, in his broken English, he
  • answered me that it could never be effected. “Kannaka no let you go
  • nowhere,” he said, “you taboo. Why you no like to stay? Plenty moee-moee
  • (sleep)—plenty ki-ki (eat)—plenty whihenee (young girls). Oh, very good
  • place, Typee! Suppose you no like this bay, why you come? You no hear
  • about Typee? All white men afraid Typee, so no white men come.”
  • These words distressed me beyond belief; and when I again related to him
  • the circumstances under which I had descended into the valley and sought
  • to enlist his sympathies in my behalf, by appealing to the bodily misery I
  • endured, he listened to me with impatience, and cut me short by
  • exclaiming, passionately, “Me no hear you talk any more; by by Kannaka get
  • mad, kill you and me too. No, you see he no want you to speak to me at
  • all?—you see—ah! by by you no mind—you get well, he kill you, eat you,
  • hang you head up there, like Happar Kannaka. Now you listen—but no talk
  • any more. By by I go;—you see way I go. Ah! then some night Kannaka all
  • moee-moee (sleep)—you run away—you come Pueearka. I speak Pueearka
  • Kannaka—he no harm you—ah! then I take you my canoe Nukuheva, and you no
  • run away ship no more.” With these words, enforced by a vehemence of
  • gesture I cannot describe, Marnoo started from my side, and immediately
  • engaged in conversation with some of the chiefs who had entered the house.
  • It would have been idle for me to have attempted resuming the interview so
  • peremptorily terminated by Marnoo, who was evidently little disposed to
  • compromise his own safety by any rash endeavours to ensure mine. But the
  • plan he had suggested struck me as one which might possibly be
  • accomplished, and I resolved to act upon it as speedily as possible.
  • Accordingly, when he arose to depart, I accompanied him, with the natives,
  • outside of the house, with a view of carefully noting the path he would
  • take in leaving the valley. Just before leaping from the pi-pi, he clasped
  • my hand, and, looking significantly at me, exclaimed, “Now you see you do
  • what I tell you—ah! then you do good;—you no do so—ah! then you die.” The
  • next moment he waved his spear in adieu to the islanders, and, following
  • the route that conducted to a defile in the mountains lying opposite the
  • Happar side, was soon out of sight.
  • A mode of escape was now presented to me; but how was I to avail myself of
  • it? I was continually surrounded by the savages; I could not stir from one
  • house to another without being attended by some of them; and even during
  • the hours devoted to slumber, the slightest movement which I made seemed
  • to attract the notice of those who shared the mats with me. In spite of
  • these obstacles, however, I determined forthwith to make the attempt. To
  • do so with any prospect of success, it was necessary that I should have at
  • least two hours’ start before the islanders should discover my absence;
  • for with such facility was any alarm spread through the valley, and so
  • familiar, of course, were the inhabitants with the intricacies of the
  • groves, that I could not hope, lame and feeble as I was, and ignorant of
  • the route, to secure my escape unless I had this advantage. It was also by
  • night alone that I could hope to accomplish my object, and then only by
  • adopting the utmost precaution.
  • The entrance to Marheyo’s habitation was through a low narrow opening in
  • its wicker-work front. This passage, for no conceivable reason that I
  • could devise, was always closed after the household had retired to rest,
  • by drawing a heavy slide across it, composed of a dozen or more bits of
  • wood, ingeniously fastened together by seizings of sinnate. When any of
  • the inmates chose to go outside, the noise occasioned by the removing of
  • this rude door awakened everybody else; and on more than one occasion I
  • had remarked that the islanders were nearly as irritable as more civilized
  • beings under similar circumstances.
  • The difficulty thus placed in my way I determined to obviate in the
  • following manner. I would get up boldly in the course of the night, and,
  • drawing the slide, issue from the house, and pretend that my object was
  • merely to procure a drink from the calabash, which always stood without
  • the dwelling on the corner of the pi-pi. On re-entering I would purposely
  • omit closing the passage after me, and trusting that the indolence of the
  • savages would prevent them from repairing my neglect, would return to my
  • mat, and waiting patiently until all were again asleep, I would then steal
  • forth, and at once take the route to Pueearka.
  • [Illustration: ABOUT MIDNIGHT I AROSE AND DREW THE SLIDE]
  • The very night which followed Marnoo’s departure, I proceeded to put this
  • project into execution. About midnight, as I imagined, I arose and drew
  • the slide. The natives, just as I had expected, started up, while some of
  • them asked, “Arware poo awa, Tommo?” (where are you going, Tommo?) “Wai,”
  • (water,) I laconically answered, grasping the calabash. On hearing my
  • reply they sank back again, and in a minute or two I returned to my mat,
  • anxiously awaiting the result of the experiment.
  • One after another the savages, turning restlessly, appeared to resume
  • their slumbers, and, rejoicing at the stillness which prevailed, I was
  • about to rise again from my couch, when I heard a slight rustling—a dark
  • form was intercepted between me and the doorway—the slide was drawn across
  • it, and the individual, whoever he was, returned to his mat. This was a
  • sad blow to me; but as it might have aroused the suspicions of the
  • islanders to have made another attempt that night, I was reluctantly
  • obliged to defer it until the next. Several times after I repeated the
  • same manœuvre, but with as little success as before. As my pretence for
  • withdrawing from the house was to allay my thirst, Kory-Kory, either
  • suspecting some design on my part, or else prompted by a desire to please
  • me, regularly every evening placed a calabash of water by my side.
  • Even under these inauspicious circumstances I again and again renewed the
  • attempt; but when I did so, my valet always rose with me, as if determined
  • I should not remove myself from his observation. For the present,
  • therefore, I was obliged to abandon the attempt; but I endeavoured to
  • console myself with the idea, that by this mode I might yet effect my
  • escape.
  • Shortly after Marnoo’s visit I was reduced to such a state, that it was
  • with extreme difficulty I could walk, even with the assistance of a spear,
  • and Kory-Kory, as formerly, was obliged to carry me daily to the stream.
  • For hours and hours, during the warmest part of the day, I lay upon my
  • mat, and while those around me were nearly all dozing away in careless
  • ease, I remained awake, gloomily pondering over the fate which it appeared
  • now idle for me to resist. When I thought of the loved friends who were
  • thousands and thousands of miles from the savage island in which I was
  • held a captive—when I reflected that my dreadful fate would for ever be
  • concealed from them, and that, with hope deferred, they might continue to
  • await my return long after my inanimate form had blended with the dust of
  • the valley, I could not repress a shudder of anguish.
  • How vividly is impressed upon my mind every minute feature of the scene
  • which met my view during those long days of suffering and sorrow. At my
  • request my mats were always spread directly facing the door, opposite
  • which, and at a little distance, was the hut of boughs that Marheyo was
  • building.
  • Whenever my gentle Fayaway and Kory-Kory, laying themselves down beside
  • me, would leave me awhile to uninterrupted repose, I took a strange
  • interest in the slightest movements of the eccentric old warrior. All
  • alone, during the stillness of the tropical mid-day, he would pursue his
  • quiet work, sitting in the shade and weaving together the leaflets of his
  • cocoa-nut branches, or rolling upon his knee the twisted fibres of bark to
  • form the cords with which he tied together the thatching of his tiny
  • house. Frequently suspending his employment, and noticing my melancholy
  • eye fixed upon him, he would raise his hand with a gesture expressive of
  • deep commiseration, and then, moving towards me slowly, would enter on
  • tip-toes, fearful of disturbing the slumbering natives, and, taking the
  • fan from my hand, would sit before me, swaying it gently to and fro, and
  • gazing earnestly into my face.
  • Just beyond the pi-pi, and disposed in a triangle before the entrance of
  • the house, were three magnificent bread-fruit trees. At this moment I can
  • recall to my mind their slender shafts, and the graceful inequalities of
  • their bark, on which my eye was accustomed to dwell, day after day, in the
  • midst of my solitary musings. It is strange how inanimate objects will
  • twine themselves into our affections, especially in the hour of
  • affliction. Even now, amidst all the bustle and stir of the proud and busy
  • city in which I am dwelling, the image of those three trees seems to come
  • as vividly before my eyes as if they were actually present, and I still
  • feel the soothing quiet pleasure which I then had in watching, hour after
  • hour, their topmost boughs waving gracefully in the breeze.
  • CHAPTER XXXIII
  • The escape.
  • Nearly three weeks had elapsed since the second visit of Marnoo, and it
  • must have been more than four months since I entered the valley, when one
  • day, about noon, and whilst everything was in profound silence, Mow-Mow,
  • the one-eyed chief, suddenly appeared at the door, and leaning forward
  • towards me as I lay directly facing him, said, in a low tone, “Toby pemi
  • ena,” (Toby has arrived here.) Gracious heaven! What a tumult of emotions
  • rushed upon me at this startling intelligence! Insensible to the pain that
  • had before distracted me, I leaped to my feet, and called wildly to
  • Kory-Kory, who was reposing by my side. The startled islanders sprang from
  • their mats; the news was quickly communicated to them; and the next moment
  • I was making my way to the Ti on the back of Kory-Kory, and surrounded by
  • the excited savages.
  • All that I could comprehend of the particulars which Mow-Mow rehearsed to
  • his auditors as we proceeded, was that my long-lost companion had arrived
  • in a boat which had just entered the bay. These tidings made me most
  • anxious to be carried at once to the sea, lest some untoward circumstance
  • should prevent our meeting; but to this they would not consent, and
  • continued their course towards the royal abode. As we approached it,
  • Mehevi and several chiefs showed themselves from the piazza, and called
  • upon us loudly to come to them.
  • As soon as we had approached, I endeavoured to make them understand that I
  • was going down to the sea to meet Toby. To this the king objected, and
  • motioned Kory-Kory to bring me into the house. It was in vain to resist;
  • and in a few moments I found myself within the Ti, surrounded by a noisy
  • group engaged in discussing the recent intelligence. Toby’s name was
  • frequently repeated, coupled with violent exclamations of astonishment. It
  • seemed as if they yet remained in doubt with regard to the fact of his
  • arrival, and at every fresh report that was brought from the shore they
  • betrayed the liveliest emotions.
  • Almost frenzied at being held in this state of suspense, I passionately
  • besought Mehevi to permit me to proceed. Whether my companion had arrived
  • or not, I felt a presentiment that my own fate was about to be decided.
  • Again and again I renewed my petition to Mehevi. He regarded me with a
  • fixed and serious eye, but at length, yielding to my importunity,
  • reluctantly granted my request.
  • Accompanied by some fifty of the natives, I now rapidly continued my
  • journey, every few moments being transferred from the back of one to
  • another, and urging my bearer forward all the while with earnest
  • entreaties. As I thus hurried forward, no doubt as to the truth of the
  • information I had received ever crossed my mind. I was alive only to the
  • one overwhelming idea, that a chance of deliverance was now afforded me,
  • if the jealous opposition of the savages could be overcome.
  • Having been prohibited from approaching the sea during the whole of my
  • stay in the valley, I had always associated with it the idea of escape.
  • Toby, too,—if indeed he had ever voluntarily deserted me,—must have
  • effected his flight by the sea; and now that I was drawing near to it
  • myself, I indulged in hopes which I had never felt before. It was evident
  • that a boat had entered the bay, and I saw little reason to doubt the
  • truth of the report that it had brought my companion. Every time,
  • therefore, that we gained an elevation, I looked eagerly around, hoping to
  • behold him.
  • In the midst of an excited throng, who by their violent gestures and wild
  • cries appeared to be under the influence of some excitement as strong as
  • my own, I was now borne along at a rapid trot, frequently stooping my head
  • to avoid the branches which crossed the path, and never ceasing to implore
  • those who carried me to accelerate their already swift pace.
  • In this manner we had proceeded about four or five miles, when we were met
  • by a party of some twenty islanders, between whom and those who
  • accompanied me ensued an animated conference. Impatient of the delay
  • occasioned by this interruption, I was beseeching the man who carried me
  • to proceed without his loitering companions, when Kory-Kory, running to my
  • side, informed me, in three fatal words, that the news had all proved
  • false—that Toby had not arrived—“Toby owlee permi.” Heaven only knows how,
  • in the state of mind and body I then was, I ever sustained the agony which
  • this intelligence caused me; not that the news was altogether unexpected,
  • but I had trusted that the fact might not have been made known until we
  • should have arrived upon the beach. As it was, I at once foresaw the
  • course the savages would pursue. They had only yielded thus far to my
  • entreaties, that I might give a joyful welcome to my long-lost comrade;
  • but now that it was known he had not arrived, they would at once oblige me
  • to turn back.
  • My anticipations were but too correct. In spite of the resistance I made,
  • they carried me into a house which was near the spot, and left me upon the
  • mats. Shortly afterwards, several of those who had accompanied me from the
  • Ti, detaching themselves from the others, proceeded in the direction of
  • the sea. Those who remained—among whom were Marheyo, Mow-Mow, Kory-Kory,
  • and Tinor—gathered about the dwelling, and appeared to be awaiting their
  • return.
  • This convinced me that strangers—perhaps some of my own countrymen—had for
  • some cause or other entered the bay. Distracted at the idea of their
  • vicinity, and reckless of the pain which I suffered, I heeded not the
  • assurances of the islanders that there were no boats at the beach, but,
  • starting to my feet, endeavoured to gain the door. Instantly the passage
  • was blocked up by several men, who commanded me to resume my seat. The
  • fierce looks of the irritated savages admonished me that I could gain
  • nothing by force, and that it was by entreaty alone that I could hope to
  • compass my object.
  • Guided by this consideration, I turned to Mow-Mow, the only chief present,
  • whom I had been much in the habit of seeing, and, carefully concealing my
  • real design, tried to make him comprehend that I still believed Toby to
  • have arrived on the shore, and besought him to allow me to go forward to
  • welcome him. To all his repeated assertions that my companion had not been
  • seen, I pretended to turn a deaf ear: while I urged my solicitations with
  • an eloquence of gesture which the one-eyed chief appeared unable to
  • resist. He seemed, indeed, to regard me as a froward child, to whose
  • wishes he had not the heart to oppose force, and whom he must consequently
  • humour. He spoke a few words to the natives, who at once retreated from
  • the door, and I immediately passed out of the house.
  • Here I looked earnestly round for Kory-Kory; but that hitherto faithful
  • servitor was nowhere to be seen. Unwilling to linger even for a single
  • instant when every moment might be so important, I motioned to a muscular
  • fellow near me to take me upon his back: to my surprise he angrily
  • refused. I turned to another, but with a like result. A third attempt was
  • as unsuccessful, and I immediately perceived what had induced Mow-Mow to
  • grant my request, and why the other natives conducted themselves in so
  • strange a manner. It was evident that the chief had only given me liberty
  • to continue my progress towards the sea, because he supposed that I was
  • deprived of the means of reaching it.
  • Convinced by this of their determination to retain me a captive, I became
  • desperate; and almost insensible to the pain which I suffered, I seized a
  • spear which was leaning against the projecting eaves of the house, and,
  • supporting myself with it, resumed the path that swept by the dwelling. To
  • my surprise, I was suffered to proceed alone, all the natives remaining in
  • front of the house, and engaging in earnest conversation, which every
  • moment became more loud and vehement; and, to my unspeakable delight, I
  • perceived that some difference of opinion had arisen between them; that
  • two parties, in short, were formed, and consequently that, in their
  • divided counsels, there was some chance of my deliverance.
  • Before I had proceeded a hundred yards I was again surrounded by the
  • savages, who were still in all the heat of argument, and appeared every
  • moment as if they would come to blows. In the midst of this tumult old
  • Marheyo came to my side, and I shall never forget the benevolent
  • expression of his countenance. He placed his arm upon my shoulder, and
  • emphatically pronounced one expressive English word I had taught
  • him—“Home.” I at once understood what he meant, and eagerly expressed my
  • thanks to him. Fayaway and Kory-Kory were by his side, both weeping
  • violently; and it was not until the old man had twice repeated the command
  • that his son could bring himself to obey him, and take me again upon his
  • back. The one-eyed chief opposed his doing so, but he was overruled, and,
  • as it seemed to me, by some of his own party.
  • We proceeded onwards, and never shall I forget the ecstacy I felt when I
  • first heard the roar of the surf breaking upon the beach. Before long, I
  • saw the flashing billows themselves through the opening between the trees.
  • Oh! glorious sight and sound of ocean! with what rapture did I hail you as
  • familiar friends. By this time the shouts of the crowd upon the beach were
  • distinctly audible, and in the blended confusion of sounds I almost
  • fancied I could distinguish the voices of my own countrymen.
  • When we reached the open space which lay between the groves and the sea,
  • the first object that met my view was an English whale-boat, lying with
  • her bow pointed from the shore, and only a few fathoms distant from it. It
  • was manned by five islanders, dressed in short tunics of calico. My first
  • impression was that they were in the very act of pulling out from the bay;
  • and that, after all my exertions, I had come too late. My soul sunk within
  • me: but a second glance convinced me that the boat was only hanging off to
  • keep out of the surf; and the next moment I heard my own name shouted out
  • by a voice from the midst of the crowd.
  • Looking in the direction of the sound, I perceived, to my indescribable
  • joy, the tall figure of Karakoee, an Oahu Kannaka, who had often been
  • aboard the _Dolly_ while she lay in Nukuheva. He wore the green
  • shooting-jacket, with gilt buttons, which had been given to him by an
  • officer of the _Reine Blanche_—the French flag-ship—and in which I had
  • always seen him dressed. I now remembered the Kannaka had frequently told
  • me that his person was tabooed in all the valleys of the island, and the
  • sight of him at such a moment as this filled my heart with a tumult of
  • delight.
  • Karakoee stood near the edge of the water with a large roll of
  • cotton-cloth thrown over one arm, and holding two or three canvas bags of
  • powder, while with the other hand he grasped a musket, which he appeared
  • to be proffering to several of the chiefs around him. But they turned with
  • disgust from his offers, and seemed to be impatient at his presence, with
  • vehement gestures waving him off to his boat, and commanding him to
  • depart.
  • The Kannaka, however, still maintained his ground, and I at once perceived
  • that he was seeking to purchase my freedom. Animated by the idea, I called
  • upon him loudly to come to me; but he replied, in broken English, that the
  • islanders had threatened to pierce him with their spears, if he stirred a
  • foot towards me. At this time I was still advancing, surrounded by a dense
  • throng of the natives, several of whom had their hands upon me, and more
  • than one javelin was threateningly pointed at me. Still I perceived
  • clearly that many of those least friendly towards me looked irresolute and
  • anxious.
  • I was still some thirty yards from Karakoee, when my farther progress was
  • prevented by the natives, who compelled me to sit down upon the ground,
  • while they still retained their hold upon my arms. The din and tumult now
  • became tenfold, and I perceived that several of the priests were on the
  • spot, all of whom were evidently urging Mow-Mow and the other chiefs to
  • prevent my departure; and the detestable word—“Roo-ne! Roo-ne!” which I
  • had heard repeated a thousand times during the day, was now shouted on
  • every side of me. Still I saw that the Kannaka continued his exertions in
  • my favour—that he was boldly debating the matter with the savages, and was
  • striving to entice them by displaying his cloth and powder, and snapping
  • the lock of his musket. But all he said or did appeared only to augment
  • the clamours of those around him, who seemed bent upon driving him into
  • the sea.
  • When I remembered the extravagant value placed by these people upon the
  • articles which were offered to them in exchange for me, and which were so
  • indignantly rejected, I saw a new proof of the same fixed determination of
  • purpose they had all along manifested with regard to me, and in despair,
  • and reckless of consequences, I exerted all my strength, and, shaking
  • myself free from the grasp of those who held me, I sprang upon my feet and
  • rushed towards Karakoee.
  • The rash attempt nearly decided my fate; for, fearful that I might slip
  • from them, several of the islanders now raised a simultaneous shout, and
  • pressing upon Karakoee, they menaced him with furious gestures, and
  • actually forced him into the sea. Appalled at their violence, the poor
  • fellow, standing nearly to the waist in the surf, endeavoured to pacify
  • them; but at length, fearful that they would do him some fatal violence,
  • he beckoned to his comrades to pull in at once, and take him into the
  • boat.
  • It was at this agonizing moment, when I thought all hope was ended, that a
  • new contest arose between the two parties, who had accompanied me to the
  • shore; blows were struck, wounds were given, and blood flowed. In the
  • interest excited by the fray, every one had left me except Marheyo,
  • Kory-Kory, and poor dear Fayaway, who clung to me, sobbing convulsively. I
  • saw that now or never was the moment. Clasping my hands together, I looked
  • imploringly at Marheyo, and moved towards the now almost deserted beach.
  • The tears were in the old man’s eyes, but neither he nor Kory-Kory
  • attempted to hold me, and I soon reached the Kannaka, who had anxiously
  • watched my movements; the rowers pulled in as near as they dared to the
  • edge of the surf; I gave one parting embrace to Fayaway, who seemed
  • speechless with sorrow, and the next instant I found myself safe in the
  • boat, and Karakoee by my side, who told the rowers at once to give way.
  • Marheyo and Kory-Kory, and a great many of the women, followed me into the
  • water, and I was determined, as the only mark of gratitude I could show,
  • to give them the articles which had been brought as my ransom. I handed
  • the musket to Kory-Kory, in doing which he would fain have taken hold of
  • me, threw the roll of cotton to old Marheyo, pointing as I did so to poor
  • Fayaway, who had retired from the edge of the water, and was sitting down
  • disconsolate on the beach, and tumbled the powder-bags out to the nearest
  • young ladies, all of whom were vastly willing to take them. This
  • distribution did not occupy ten seconds, and before it was over the boat
  • was under full way, the Kannaka all the while exclaiming loudly against
  • what he considered a useless throwing away of valuable property.
  • Although it was clear that my movements had been noticed by several of the
  • natives, still they had not suspended the conflict in which they were
  • engaged, and it was not until the boat was above fifty yards from the
  • shore, that Mow-Mow and some six or seven other warriors rushed into the
  • sea and hurled their javelins at us. Some of the weapons passed quite as
  • close to us as was desirable, but no one was wounded, and the men pulled
  • away gallantly. But although soon out of the reach of the spears, our
  • progress was extremely slow; it blew strong upon the shore, and the tide
  • was against us; and I saw Karakoee, who was steering the boat, give many a
  • look towards a jutting point of the bay round which we had to pass.
  • For a minute or two after our departure, the savages, who had formed into
  • different groups, remained perfectly motionless and silent. All at once
  • the enraged chief showed by his gestures that he had resolved what course
  • he would take. Shouting loudly to his companions, and pointing with his
  • tomahawk towards the headland, he set off at full speed in that direction,
  • and was followed by about thirty of the natives, among whom were several
  • of the priests, all yelling out, “Roo-ne! Roo-ne!” at the very top of
  • their voices. Their intention was evidently to swim off from the headland
  • and intercept us in our course. The wind was freshening every minute, and
  • was right in our teeth, and it was one of those chopping, angry seas, in
  • which it is so difficult to row. Still the chances seemed in our favour,
  • but when we came within a hundred yards of the point, the active savages
  • were already dashing into the water, and we all feared that within five
  • minutes’ time we should have a score of the infuriated wretches around us.
  • If so our doom was sealed, for these savages, unlike the feeble swimmers
  • of civilized countries, are, if anything, more formidable antagonists in
  • the water than when on the land. It was all a trial of strength; our
  • natives pulled till their oars bent again, and the crowd of swimmers shot
  • through the water, despite its roughness, with fearful rapidity.
  • By the time we had reached the headland, the savages were spread right
  • across our course. Our rowers got out their knives and held them ready
  • between their teeth, and I seized the boat-hook. We were all aware that if
  • they succeeded in intercepting us, they would practise upon us the
  • manœuvre which proved so fatal to many a boat’s crew in these seas. They
  • would grapple the oars, and, seizing hold of the gunwale, capsize the
  • boat, and then we should be entirely at their mercy.
  • After a few breathless moments I discerned Mow-Mow. The athletic islander,
  • with his tomahawk between his teeth, was dashing the water before him till
  • it foamed again. He was the nearest to us, and in another instant he would
  • have seized one of the oars. Even at the moment I felt horror at the act I
  • was about to commit; but it was no time for pity or compunction, and with
  • true aim, and exerting all my strength, I dashed the boat-hook at him. It
  • struck him just below the throat, and forced him downwards. I had no time
  • to repeat the blow, but I saw him rise to the surface in the wake of the
  • boat, and never shall I forget the ferocious expression of his
  • countenance.
  • Only one other of the savages reached the boat. He seized the gunwale, but
  • the knives of our rowers so mauled his wrists that he was forced to quit
  • his hold, and the next minute we were past them all, and in safety. The
  • strong excitement which had thus far kept me up, now left me, and I fell
  • back fainting into the arms of Karakoee.
  • * * * * * * * * * *
  • The circumstances connected with my most unexpected escape may be very
  • briefly stated. The captain of an Australian vessel being in distress for
  • men in these remote seas, had put into Nukuheva in order to recruit his
  • ship’s company, but not a single man was to be obtained; and the barque
  • was about to get under weigh, when she was boarded by Karakoee, who
  • informed the disappointed Englishman that an American sailor was detained
  • by the savages in the neighbouring bay of Typee; and he offered, if
  • supplied with suitable articles of traffic, to undertake his release. The
  • Kannaka had gained his intelligence from Marnoo, to whom, after all, I was
  • indebted for my escape. The proposition was acceded to; and Karakoee,
  • taking with him five tabooed natives of Nukuheva, again repaired aboard
  • the barque, which in a few hours sailed to that part of the island, and
  • threw her main-top-sail aback right off the entrance to the Typee bay. The
  • whale-boat, manned by the tabooed crew, pulled towards the head of the
  • inlet, while the ship lay “off and on” awaiting its return.
  • The events which ensued have already been detailed, and little more
  • remains to be related. On reaching the _Julia_, I was lifted over the
  • side, and my strange appearance, and remarkable adventure, occasioned the
  • liveliest interest. Every attention was bestowed upon me that humanity
  • could suggest; but to such a state was I reduced, that three months
  • elapsed before I recovered my health.
  • The mystery which hung over the fate of my friend and companion, Toby, has
  • never been cleared up. I still remain ignorant whether he succeeded in
  • leaving the valley, or perished at the hands of the islanders.
  • SEQUEL
  • CONTAINING
  • THE STORY OF TOBY
  • NOTE.—The Author of “Typee” was more than two years in the South
  • Seas, after escaping from the valley, as recounted in the last
  • chapter. Some time after returning home the foregoing narrative
  • was published, though it was little thought at the time that this
  • would be the means of revealing the existence of Toby, who had
  • long been given up for lost. But so it proved. The story of his
  • escape supplies a natural sequel to the adventure, and as such it
  • is now added to the volume. It was related to the Author by Toby
  • himself.
  • The morning my comrade left me, as related in the narrative, he was
  • accompanied by a large party of the natives, some of them carrying fruit
  • and hogs for the purposes of traffic, as the report had spread that boats
  • had touched at the bay.
  • As they proceeded through the settled parts of the valley, numbers joined
  • them from every side, running with animated cries from every pathway. So
  • excited were the whole party, that, eager as Toby was to gain the beach,
  • it was almost as much as he could do to keep up with them. Making the
  • valley ring with their shouts, they hurried along on a swift trot, those
  • in advance pausing now and then, and flourishing their weapons to urge the
  • rest forward.
  • Presently they came to a place where the path crossed a bend of the main
  • stream of the valley. Here a strange sound came through the grove beyond,
  • and the islanders halted. It was Mow-Mow, the one-eyed chief, who had gone
  • on before; he was striking his heavy lance against the hollow bough of a
  • tree.
  • This was a signal of alarm;—for nothing was now heard but shouts of
  • “Happar! Happar!”—the warriors tilting with their spears and brandishing
  • them in the air, and the women and boys shouting to each other, and
  • picking up the stones in the bed of the stream. In a moment or two Mow-Mow
  • and two or three other chiefs ran out from the grove, and the din
  • increased tenfold.
  • Now, thought Toby, for a fray; and being unarmed, he besought one of the
  • young men domiciled with Marheyo for the loan of his spear. But he was
  • refused; the youth roguishly telling him, that the weapon was very good
  • for him (the Typee), but that a white man could fight much better with his
  • fists.
  • The merry humour of this young wag seemed to be shared by the rest, for in
  • spite of their warlike cries and gestures, everybody was capering about
  • and laughing, as if it was one of the funniest things in the world to be
  • awaiting the flight of a score or two of Happar javelins from an ambush in
  • the thickets.
  • While my comrade was in vain trying to make out the meaning of all this, a
  • good number of the natives separated themselves from the rest and ran off
  • into the grove on one side, the others now keeping perfectly still, as if
  • awaiting the result. After a little while, however, Mow-Mow, who stood in
  • advance, motioned them to come on stealthily, which they did, scarcely
  • rustling a leaf. Thus they crept along for ten or fifteen minutes, every
  • now and then pausing to listen.
  • Toby by no means relished this sort of skulking; if there was going to be
  • a fight he wanted it to begin at once. But all in good time,—for just
  • then, as they went prowling into the thickest of the wood, terrific howls
  • burst upon them on all sides, and volleys of darts and stones flew across
  • the path. Not an enemy was to be seen, and what was still more surprising,
  • not a single man dropped, though the pebbles fell among the leaves like
  • hail.
  • There was a moment’s pause, when the Typees, with wild shrieks, flung
  • themselves into the covert, spear in hand; nor was Toby behind-hand.
  • Coming so near getting his skull broken by the stones, and animated by an
  • old grudge he bore the Happars, he was among the first to dash at them. As
  • he broke his way through the underbush, trying, as he did so, to wrest a
  • spear from a young chief, the shouts of battle all of a sudden ceased, and
  • the wood was as still as death. The next moment, the party who had left
  • them so mysteriously rushed out from behind every bush and tree, and
  • united with the rest in long and merry peals of laughter.
  • It was all a sham, and Toby, who was quite out of breath with excitement,
  • was much incensed at being made a fool of.
  • It afterwards turned out that the whole affair had been concerted for his
  • particular benefit, though with what precise view it would be hard to
  • tell. My comrade was the more enraged at this boy’s play, since it had
  • consumed so much time, every moment of which might be precious. Perhaps,
  • however, it was partly intended for this very purpose; and he was led to
  • think so, because, when the natives started again, he observed that they
  • did not seem to be in so great a hurry as before. At last, after they had
  • gone some distance, Toby, thinking all the while that they never would get
  • to the sea, two men came running towards them, and a regular halt ensued,
  • followed by a noisy discussion, during which Toby’s name was often
  • repeated. All this made him more and more anxious to learn what was going
  • on at the beach; but it was in vain that he now tried to push forward; the
  • natives held him back.
  • In a few moments the conference ended, and many of them ran down the path
  • in the direction of the water, the rest surrounding Toby, and entreating
  • him to “Moee,” or sit down and rest himself. As an additional inducement,
  • several calabashes of food, which had been brought along, were now placed
  • on the ground, and opened, and pipes also were lighted. Toby bridled his
  • impatience awhile, but at last sprang to his feet and dashed forward
  • again. He was soon overtaken nevertheless, and again surrounded, but
  • without further detention was then permitted to go down to the sea.
  • They came out on a bright green space between the groves and the water,
  • and close under the shadow of the Happar mountain, where a path was seen,
  • winding out of sight through a gorge.
  • No sign of a boat, however, was beheld; nothing but a tumultuous crowd of
  • men and women, and some one in their midst, earnestly talking to them. As
  • my comrade advanced, this person came forward, and proved to be no
  • stranger. He was an old grizzled sailor, whom Toby and myself had
  • frequently seen in Nukuheva, where he lived an easy, devil-may-care life,
  • in the household of Mowanna the king, going by the name of “Jimmy.” In
  • fact, he was the royal favourite, and had a good deal to say in his
  • master’s councils. He wore a Manilla hat, and a sort of tappa morning
  • gown, sufficiently loose and negligent to show the verse of a song
  • tattooed upon his chest, and a variety of spirited cuts by native artists
  • in other parts of his body. He sported a fishing-rod in his hand, and
  • carried a sooty old pipe slung about his neck.
  • This old rover having retired from active life, had resided in Nukuheva
  • some time—he could speak the language, and for that reason was frequently
  • employed by the French as an interpreter. He was an arrant old gossip,
  • too; for ever coming off in his canoe to the ships in the bay, and
  • regaling their crews with choice little morsels of court scandal—such, for
  • instance, as a shameful intrigue of his majesty with a Happar damsel, a
  • public dancer at the feasts—and otherwise relating some incredible tales
  • about the Marquesas generally. I remember, in particular, his telling the
  • _Dolly’s_ crew what proved to be literally a cock-and-bull story, about
  • two natural prodigies, which he said were then on the island. One was an
  • old monster of a hermit, having a marvellous reputation for sanctity, and
  • reputed a famous sorcerer, who lived away off in a den among the
  • mountains, where he hid from the world a great pair of horns that grew out
  • of his temples. Notwithstanding his reputation for piety, his horrid old
  • fellow was the terror of all the island round, being reported to come out
  • from his retreat, and go a man-hunting every dark night. Some anonymous
  • Paul Pry, too, coming down the mountain, once got a peep at his den, and
  • found it full of bones. In short, he was a most unheard-of monster.
  • The other prodigy Jimmy told us about, was the younger son of a chief,
  • who, although but just turned of ten, had entered upon holy orders,
  • because his superstitious countrymen thought him especially intended for
  • the priesthood, from the fact of his having a comb on his head like a
  • rooster. But this was not all: for, still more wonderful to relate, the
  • boy prided himself upon this strange crest, being actually endowed with a
  • cock’s voice, and frequently crowing over his peculiarity.
  • But to return to Toby. The moment he saw the old rover on the beach, he
  • ran up to him, the natives following after, and forming a circle round
  • them.
  • After welcoming him to the shore, Jimmy went on to tell him how that he
  • knew all about our having run away from the ship, and being among the
  • Typees, indeed, he had been urged by Mowanna to come over to the valley,
  • and, after visiting his friends there, to bring us back with him, his
  • royal master being exceedingly anxious to share with him the reward which
  • had been held out for our capture. He, however, assured Toby that he had
  • indignantly spurned the offer.
  • All this astonished my comrade not a little, as neither of us had
  • entertained the least idea that any white man ever visited the Typees
  • sociably. But Jimmy told him that such was the case, nevertheless,
  • although he seldom came into the bay, and scarcely ever went back from the
  • beach. One of the priests of the valley, in some way or other connected
  • with an old tattooed divine in Nukuheva, was a friend of his, and through
  • him he was “taboo.”
  • He said, moreover, that he was sometimes employed to come round to the
  • bay, and engage fruit for ships lying in Nukuheva. In fact, he was now on
  • that very errand, according to his own account, having just come across
  • the mountains by the way of Happar. By noon of the next day, the fruit
  • would be heaped up in stacks on the beach, in readiness for the boats,
  • which he then intended to bring into the bay.
  • Jimmy now asked Toby whether he wished to leave the island—if he did,
  • there was a ship in want of men, lying in the other harbour, and he would
  • be glad to take him over, and see him on board that very day.
  • “No,” said Toby; “I cannot leave the island, unless my comrade goes with
  • me. I left him up the valley because they would not let him come down. Let
  • us go now and fetch him.”
  • “But how is he to cross the mountain with us,” replied Jimmy, “even if we
  • get him down to the beach? Better let him stay till to-morrow, and I will
  • bring him round to Nukuheva in the boats.”
  • “That will never do,” said Toby; “but come along with me now, and let us
  • get him down here at any rate”; and yielding to the impulse of the moment,
  • he started to hurry back into the valley. But hardly was his back turned,
  • when a dozen hands were laid on him, and he learned that he could not go a
  • step farther.
  • It was in vain that he fought with them: they would not hear of his
  • stirring from the beach. Cut to the heart at this unexpected repulse, Toby
  • now conjured the sailor to go after me alone. But Jimmy replied, that in
  • the mood the Typees then were, they would not permit him to do so, though,
  • at the same time, he was not afraid of their offering him any harm.
  • Little did Toby then think, as he afterwards had good reason to suspect,
  • that this very Jimmy was a heartless villain, who, by his arts, had just
  • incited the natives to restrain him, as he was in the act of going after
  • me. Well must the old sailor have known, too, that the natives would never
  • consent to our leaving together; and he therefore wanted to get Toby off
  • alone, for a purpose which he afterwards made plain. Of all this, however,
  • my comrade now knew nothing.
  • He was still struggling with the islanders, when Jimmy again came up to
  • him, and warned him against irritating them, saying that he was only
  • making matters worse for both of us, and if they became enraged, there was
  • no telling what might happen. At last he made Toby sit down on a broken
  • canoe, by a pile of stones, upon which was a ruinous little shrine,
  • supported by four upright paddles, and in front partly screened by a net.
  • The fishing parties met there, when they came in from the sea, for their
  • offerings were laid before an image, upon a smooth black stone within.
  • This spot, Jimmy said, was strictly “taboo,” and no one would molest or
  • come near him while he stayed by its shadow. The old sailor then went off,
  • and began speaking very earnestly to Mow-Mow and some other chiefs, while
  • all the rest formed a circle round the taboo place, looking intently at
  • Toby, and talking to each other without ceasing.
  • Now, notwithstanding what Jimmy had just told him, there presently came up
  • to my comrade an old woman, who seated herself beside him on the canoe.
  • “Typee Mortarkee?” said she. “Mortarkee muee,” said Toby.
  • She then asked whether he was going to Nukuheva; he nodded yes; and with a
  • plaintive wail, her eyes filling with tears, she rose and left him.
  • This old woman, the sailor afterwards said, was the wife of an aged king
  • of a small inland valley, communicating by a deep pass with the country of
  • the Typees. The inmates of the two valleys were related to each other by
  • blood, and were known by the same name. The old woman had gone down into
  • the Typee valley the day before, and was now, with three chiefs, her sons,
  • on a visit to her kinsmen.
  • As the old king’s wife left him, Jimmy again came up to Toby, and told him
  • that he had just talked the whole matter over with the natives, and there
  • was only one course for him to follow. They would not allow him to go back
  • into the valley, and harm would certainly come to both him and me, if he
  • remained much longer on the beach. “So,” said he, “you and I had better go
  • to Nukuheva now overland, and to-morrow I will bring Tommo, as they call
  • him, by water; they have promised to carry him down to the sea for me
  • early in the morning, so that there will be no delay.”
  • “No, no,” said Toby desperately, “I will not leave him that way; we must
  • escape together.”
  • “Then there is no hope for you,” exclaimed the sailor, “for if I leave you
  • here on the beach, as soon as I am gone you will be carried back into the
  • valley, and then neither of you will ever look upon the sea again.” And
  • with many oaths he swore that if he would only go to Nukuheva with him
  • that day, he would be sure to have me there the very next morning.
  • “But how do you know they will bring him down to the beach to-morrow, when
  • they will not do so to-day?” said Toby. But the sailor had many reasons,
  • all of which were so mixed up with the mysterious customs of the
  • islanders, that he was none the wiser. Indeed, their conduct, especially
  • in preventing him from returning into the valley, was absolutely
  • unaccountable to him; and added to everything else was the bitter
  • reflection, that the old sailor, after all, might possibly be deceiving
  • him. And then again he had to think of me, left alone with the natives,
  • and by no means well. If he went with Jimmy, he might at least hope to
  • procure some relief for me. But might not the savages who had acted so
  • strangely, hurry me off somewhere before his return? Then, even if he
  • remained, perhaps they would not let him go back to the valley where I
  • was.
  • Thus perplexed was my poor comrade; he knew not what to do, and his
  • courageous spirit was of no use to him now. There he was, all by himself,
  • seated upon the broken canoe—the natives grouped around him at a distance,
  • and eyeing him more and more fixedly.
  • “It is getting late,” said Jimmy, who was standing behind the rest.
  • “Nukuheva is far off, and I cannot cross the Happar country by night. You
  • see how it is:—if you come along with me, all will be well; if you do not,
  • depend upon it neither of you will ever escape.”
  • “There is no help for it,” said Toby, at last, with a heavy heart, “I will
  • have to trust you”; and he came out from the shadow of the little shrine,
  • and cast a long look up the valley.
  • “Now keep close to my side,” said the sailor, “and let us be moving
  • quickly.” Tinor and Fayaway here appeared; the kind-hearted old woman
  • embracing Toby’s knees, and giving way to a flood of tears; while Fayaway,
  • hardly less moved, spoke some few words of English she had learned, and
  • held up three fingers before him—in so many days he would return.
  • At last Jimmy pulled Toby out of the crowd, and after calling to a young
  • Typee who was standing by with a young pig in his arms, all three started
  • for the mountains.
  • “I have told them that you are coming back again,” said the old fellow,
  • laughing, as they began the ascent, “but they’ll have to wait a long
  • time.” Toby turned, and saw the natives all in motion—the girls waving
  • their tappas in adieu, and the men their spears. As the last figure
  • entered the grove with one arm raised, and the three fingers spread, his
  • heart smote him.
  • As the natives had at last consented to his going, it might have been,
  • that some of them, at least, really counted upon his speedy return;
  • probably supposing, as indeed he had told them when they were coming down
  • the valley, that his only object in leaving them was to procure the
  • medicines I needed. This, Jimmy also must have told them. And as they had
  • done before, when my comrade, to oblige me, started on his perilous
  • journey to Nukuheva, they looked upon me, in his absence, as one of two
  • inseparable friends who was a sure guarantee for the other’s return. This
  • is only my own supposition, however, for as to all their strange conduct,
  • it is still a mystery.
  • “You see what sort of a taboo man I am,” said the sailor, after for some
  • time silently following the path which led up the mountain. “Mow-Mow made
  • me a present of this pig here, and the man who carries it will go right
  • through Happar, and down into Nukuheva with us. So long as he stays by me
  • he is safe, and just so it will be with you, and to-morrow with Tommo.
  • Cheer up, then, and rely upon me, you will see him in the morning.”
  • The ascent of the mountain was not very difficult, owing to its being near
  • to the sea, where the island ridges are comparatively low; the path, too,
  • was a fine one, so that in a short time all three were standing on the
  • summit with the two valleys at their feet. The white cascades marking the
  • green head of the Typee valley first caught Toby’s eye; Marheyo’s house
  • could easily be traced by them.
  • As Jimmy led the way along the ridge, Toby observed that the valley of the
  • Happars did not extend near so far inland as that of the Typees. This
  • accounted for our mistake in entering the latter valley as we had.
  • A path leading down from the mountain was soon seen, and, following it,
  • the party were in a short time fairly in the Happar valley.
  • “Now,” said Jimmy, as they hurried on, “we taboo men have wives in all the
  • bays, and I am going to show you the two I have here.”
  • So, when they came to the house where he said they lived—which was close
  • by the base of the mountain, in a shady nook among the groves,—he went in,
  • and was quite furious at finding it empty—the ladies had gone out.
  • However, they soon made their appearance, and, to tell the truth, welcomed
  • Jimmy quite cordially, as well as Toby, about whom they were very
  • inquisitive. Nevertheless, as the report of their arrival spread, and the
  • Happars began to assemble, it became evident that the appearance of a
  • white stranger among them was not by any means deemed so wonderful an
  • event as in the neighbouring valley.
  • The old sailor bade his wives prepare something to eat, as he must be in
  • Nukuheva before dark. A meal of fish, bread-fruit, and bananas, was
  • accordingly served up, the party regaling themselves on the mats, in the
  • midst of a numerous company.
  • The Happars put many questions to Jimmy about Toby; and Toby himself
  • looked sharply at them, anxious to recognise the fellow who gave him the
  • wound from which he was still suffering. But this fiery gentleman, so
  • handy with his spear, had the delicacy, it seemed, to keep out of view.
  • Certainly the sight of him would not have been any added inducement to
  • making him stay in the valley,—some of the afternoon loungers in Happar
  • having politely urged Toby to spend a few days with them,—there was a
  • feast coming on. He, however, declined.
  • All this while the young Typee stuck to Jimmy like his shadow, and though
  • as lively a dog as any of his tribe, he was now as meek as a lamb, never
  • opening his mouth except to eat. Although some of the Happars looked
  • queerly at him, others were more civil, and seemed desirous of taking him
  • abroad and showing him the valley. But the Typee was not to be cajoled in
  • that way. How many yards he would have to remove from Jimmy before the
  • taboo would be powerless, it would be hard to tell, but probably he
  • himself knew to a fraction.
  • On the promise of a red cotton handkerchief, and something else which he
  • kept secret, this poor fellow had undertaken a rather ticklish journey,
  • though, as far as Toby could ascertain, it was something that had never
  • happened before.
  • The island-punch—arva—was brought in at the conclusion of the repast, and
  • passed round in a shallow calabash.
  • Now my comrade, while seated in the Happar house, began to feel more
  • troubled than ever at leaving me: indeed, so sad did he feel that he
  • talked about going back to the valley, and wanted Jimmy to escort him as
  • far as the mountains. But the sailor would not listen to him, and, by way
  • of diverting his thoughts, pressed him to drink of the arva. Knowing its
  • narcotic nature, he refused; but Jimmy said he would have something mixed
  • with it, which would convert it into an innocent beverage that would
  • inspirit them for the rest of their journey. So at last he was induced to
  • drink of it, and its effects were just as the sailor had predicted; his
  • spirits rose at once, and all his gloomy thoughts left him.
  • The old rover now began to reveal his true character, though he was hardly
  • suspected at the time. “If I get you off to a ship,” said he, “you will
  • surely give a poor fellow something for saving you.” In short, before they
  • left the house, he made Toby promise that he would give him five Spanish
  • dollars if he succeeded in getting any part of his wages advanced from the
  • vessel, aboard of which they were going; Toby, moreover, engaging to
  • reward him still farther, as soon as my deliverance was accomplished.
  • A little while after this they started again, accompanied by many of the
  • natives, and going up the valley, took a steep path near its head, which
  • led to Nukuheva. Here the Happars paused, and watched them as they
  • ascended the mountain, one group of bandit-looking fellows shaking their
  • spears and casting threatening glances at the poor Typee, whose heart as
  • well as heels seemed much the lighter when he came to look down upon them.
  • On gaining the heights once more, their way led for a time along several
  • ridges covered with enormous ferns. At last they entered upon a wooded
  • tract, and here they overtook a party of Nukuheva natives, well armed, and
  • carrying bundles of long poles. Jimmy seemed to know them all very well,
  • and stopped for awhile, and had a talk about the “Wee-Wees,” as the people
  • of Nukuheva call the Monsieurs.
  • The party with the poles were King Mowanna’s men, and by his orders they
  • had been gathering them in the ravines for his allies, the French.
  • Leaving these fellows to trudge on with their loads, Toby and his
  • companions now pushed forward again, as the sun was already low in the
  • west. They came upon the valleys of Nukuheva on one side of the bay, where
  • the highlands slope off into the sea. The men-of-war were still lying in
  • the harbour, and as Toby looked down upon them, the strange events which
  • had happened so recently seemed all a dream.
  • They soon descended towards the beach, and found themselves in Jimmy’s
  • house before it was well dark. Here he received another welcome from his
  • Nukuheva wives, and after some refreshments in the shape of cocoa-nut milk
  • and poee-poee, they entered a canoe (the Typee, of course, going along)
  • and paddled off to a whale-ship which was anchored near the shore. This
  • was the vessel in want of men. Our own had sailed some time before. The
  • captain professed great pleasure at seeing Toby, but thought from his
  • exhausted appearance that he must be unfit for duty. However, he agreed to
  • ship him, as well as his comrade as soon as he should arrive.
  • Toby begged hard for an armed boat, in which to go round to Typee and
  • rescue me, notwithstanding the promise of Jimmy. But this the captain
  • would not hear of, and told him to have patience, for the sailor would be
  • faithful to his word. When, too, he demanded the five silver dollars for
  • Jimmy, the captain was unwilling to give them. But Toby insisted upon it,
  • as he now began to think that Jimmy might be a mere mercenary, who would
  • be sure to prove faithless if not well paid. Accordingly he not only gave
  • him the money, but took care to assure him, over and over again, that as
  • soon as he brought me aboard he would receive a still larger sum.
  • Before sunrise the next day, Jimmy and the Typee started in two of the
  • ship’s boats, which were manned by tabooed natives. Toby, of course, was
  • all eagerness to go along, but the sailor told him that if he did, it
  • would spoil all; so, hard as it was, he was obliged to remain.
  • Towards evening he was on the watch, and descried the boats turning the
  • headland and entering the bay. He strained his eyes, and thought he saw
  • me; but I was not there. Descending from the mast almost distracted, he
  • grappled Jimmy as he struck the deck, shouting in a voice that startled
  • him, “Where is Tommo?” The old fellow faltered, but soon recovering, did
  • all he could to soothe him, assuring him that it had proved to be
  • impossible to get me down to the shore that morning; assigning many
  • plausible reasons, and adding that early on the morrow he was going to
  • visit the bay again in a French boat, when, if he did not find me on the
  • beach—as this time he certainly expected to—he would march right back into
  • the valley, and carry me away at all hazards. He, however, again refused
  • to allow Toby to accompany him.
  • Now, situated as Toby was, his sole dependence for the present was upon
  • Jimmy, and therefore he was fain to comfort himself as well as he could
  • with what the old sailor told him.
  • The next morning, however, he had the satisfaction of seeing the French
  • boat start with Jimmy in it. To-night, then, I will see him, thought Toby;
  • but many a long day passed before he ever saw Tommo again. Hardly was the
  • boat out of sight, when the captain came forward and ordered the anchor
  • weighed; he was going to sea.
  • Vain were all Toby’s ravings,—they were disregarded; and when he came to
  • himself, the sails were set, and the ship fast leaving the land.
  • ... “Oh! said he to me at our meeting, what sleepless nights were mine.
  • Often I started from my hammock, dreaming you were before me, and
  • upbraiding me for leaving you on the island.”
  • There is little more to be related. Toby left his vessel at New Zealand,
  • and after some further adventures, arrived home in less than two years
  • after leaving the Marquesas. He always thought of me as dead—and I had
  • every reason to suppose that he, too, was no more; but a strange meeting
  • was in store for us, which made Toby’s heart all the lighter.
  • APPENDIX
  • The author of this volume arrived at Tahiti the very day that the
  • iniquitous designs of the French were consummated by inducing the
  • subordinate chiefs, during the absence of their queen, to ratify an
  • artfully-drawn treaty, by which she was virtually deposed. Both menaces
  • and caresses were employed on this occasion, and the 32-pounders which
  • peeped out of the port-holes of the frigate were the principal arguments
  • adduced to quiet the scruples of the more conscientious islanders.
  • And yet this piratical seizure of Tahiti, with all the woe and desolation
  • which resulted from it, created not half so great a sensation, at least in
  • America, as was caused by the proceedings of the English at the Sandwich
  • Islands. No transaction has ever been more grossly misrepresented than the
  • events which occurred upon the arrival of Lord George Paulet at Oahu.
  • During a residence of four months at Honolulu, the metropolis of the
  • group, the author was in the confidence of an Englishman who was much
  • employed by his lordship; and great was the author’s astonishment on his
  • arrival at Boston, in the autumn of 1844, to read the distorted accounts
  • and fabrications which had produced in the United States so violent an
  • outbreak of indignation against the English. He deems it, therefore, a
  • mere act of justice towards a gallant officer briefly to state the leading
  • circumstances connected with the event in question.
  • It is needless to rehearse all the abuse that for some time previous to
  • the spring of 1843 had been heaped upon the British residents, especially
  • upon Captain Charlton, Her Britannic Majesty’s consul-general, by the
  • native authorities of the Sandwich Islands. High in the favour of the
  • imbecile king at this time was one Dr. Judd, a sanctimonious
  • apothecary-adventurer, who, with other kindred and influential spirits,
  • were animated by an inveterate dislike to England. The ascendancy of a
  • junta of ignorant and designing Methodist elders in the councils of a
  • half-civilised king, ruling with absolute sway over a nation just poised
  • between barbarism and civilisation, and exposed by the peculiarities of
  • its relations with foreign states to unusual difficulties, was not
  • precisely calculated to impart a healthy tone to the policy of the
  • government.
  • At last matters were brought to such an extremity, through the iniquitous
  • maladministration of affairs, that the endurance of further insults and
  • injuries on the part of the British consul was no longer to be borne.
  • Captain Charlton, insultingly forbidden to leave the islands,
  • clandestinely withdrew, and arriving at Valparaiso, conferred with
  • Rear-Admiral Thomas, the English commander-in-chief on the Pacific
  • station. In consequence of this communication, Lord George Paulet was
  • despatched by the admiral in the _Carysfort_ frigate, to inquire into and
  • correct the alleged abuses. On arriving at his destination, he sent his
  • first lieutenant ashore with a letter to the king, couched in terms of the
  • utmost courtesy, and soliciting the honour of an audience. The messenger
  • was denied access to His Majesty, and Paulet was coolly referred to Dr.
  • Judd, and informed that the apothecary was invested with plenary powers to
  • treat with him. Rejecting this insolent proposition, his lordship again
  • addressed the king by letter, and renewed his previous request; but he
  • encountered another repulse. Justly indignant at this treatment, he penned
  • a third epistle, enumerating the grievances to be redressed, and demanding
  • a compliance with his requisitions, under penalty of immediate
  • hostilities.
  • The government was now obliged to act, and an artful stroke of policy was
  • decided upon by the despicable councillors of the king to entrap the
  • sympathies and rouse the indignation of Christendom. His Majesty was made
  • to intimate to the British captain that he could not, as the conscientious
  • ruler of his beloved people, comply with the arbitrary demands of his
  • lordship, and in deprecation of the horrors of war, tendered to his
  • acceptance the _provisional cession_ of the islands, subject to the result
  • of the negotiations then pending in London. Paulet, a bluff and
  • straight-forward sailor, took the king at his word, and after some
  • preliminary arrangements, entered upon the administration of Hawaiian
  • affairs, in the same firm and benignant spirit which marked the discipline
  • of his frigate, and which had rendered him the idol of his ship’s company.
  • He soon endeared himself to nearly all orders of the islanders; but the
  • king and the chiefs, whose feudal sway over the common people was
  • laboriously sought to be perpetuated by their missionary advisers,
  • regarded all his proceedings with the most vigilant animosity. Jealous of
  • his growing popularity, and unable to counteract it, they endeavoured to
  • assail his reputation abroad by ostentatiously protesting against his
  • acts, and appealing in Oriental phrase to the _wide universe_ to witness
  • and compassionate their _unparalleled wrongs_.
  • Heedless of their idle clamours, Lord George Paulet addressed himself to
  • the task of reconciling the differences among the foreign residents,
  • remedying their grievances, promoting their mercantile interests, and
  • ameliorating, as far as lay in his power, the condition of the degraded
  • natives. The iniquities he brought to light and instantly suppressed are
  • too numerous to be here recorded; but one instance may be mentioned that
  • will give some idea of the lamentable misrule to which these poor
  • islanders are subjected.
  • It is well known that the laws at the Sandwich Islands are subject to the
  • most capricious alterations, which, by confounding all ideas of right and
  • wrong in the minds of the natives, produce the most pernicious effects. In
  • no case is this mischief more plainly descernible than in the continually
  • shifting regulations concerning licentiousness. At one time the most
  • innocent freedoms between the sexes are punished with fine and
  • imprisonment; at another the revocation of the statute is followed by the
  • most open and undisguised profligacy.
  • It so happened that at the period of Paulet’s arrival the Connecticut blue
  • laws had been for at least three weeks steadily enforced. In consequence
  • of this, the fort at Honolulu was filled with a great number of young
  • girls, who were confined there doing penance for their slips from virtue.
  • Paulet, although at first unwilling to interfere with regulations having
  • reference solely to the natives themselves, was eventually, by the
  • prevalence of certain reports, induced to institute a strict inquiry into
  • the internal administration of General Kekuanoa, governor of the island of
  • Oahu, one of the pillars of the Hawaiian Church, and captain of the fort.
  • He soon ascertained that numbers of the young females employed during the
  • day at work intended for the benefit of the king, were at night smuggled
  • over the ramparts of the fort—which on one side directly overhangs the
  • sea—and were conveyed by stealth on board such vessels as had contracted
  • with the General to be supplied with them. Before daybreak they returned
  • to their quarters, and their own silence with regard to these secret
  • excursions was purchased by a small portion of those wages of iniquity
  • which were placed in the hands of Kekuanoa.
  • The vigour with which the laws concerning licentiousness were at that
  • period enforced, enabled the General to monopolise in a great measure the
  • detestable trade in which he was engaged, and there consequently flowed
  • into his coffers—and some say into those of the government
  • also—considerable sums of money. It is indeed a lamentable fact that the
  • principal revenue of the Hawaiian government is derived from the fines
  • levied upon, or rather the licences taken out by Vice, the prosperity of
  • which is linked with that of the government. Were the people to become
  • virtuous the authorities would become poor; but from present indications
  • there is little apprehension to be entertained on that score.
  • Some five months after the date of the cession, the _Dublin_ frigate,
  • carrying the flag of Rear-Admiral Thomas, entered the harbour of Honolulu.
  • The excitement that her sudden appearance produced on shore was
  • prodigious. Three days after her arrival an English sailor hauled down the
  • red cross which had been flying from the heights of the fort, and the
  • Hawaiian colours were again displayed upon the same staff. At the same
  • moment the long 42-pounders upon Punchbowl Hill opened their iron throats
  • in triumphant reply to the thunders of the five men-of-war in the harbour;
  • and King Kammahammaha III, surrounded by a splendid group of British and
  • American officers, unfurled the royal standard to assembled thousands of
  • his subjects, who, attracted by the imposing military display of the
  • foreigners, had flocked to witness the formal restoration of the islands
  • to their ancient rulers.
  • The admiral, after sanctioning the proceedings of his subaltern, had
  • brought the authorities to terms; and so removed the necessity of acting
  • any longer under the provisional cession.
  • The event was made an occasion of riotous rejoicing by the king and the
  • principal chiefs, who easily secured a display of enthusiasm from the
  • inferior orders, by remitting for a time the accustomed severity of the
  • laws. Royal proclamations in English and Hawaiian were placarded in the
  • streets of Honolulu, and posted up in the more populous villages of the
  • group, in which His Majesty announced to his loving subjects the
  • re-establishment of his throne, and called upon them to celebrate it by
  • breaking through all moral, legal, and religious restraint for ten
  • consecutive days, during which time all the laws of the land were solemnly
  • declared to be suspended.
  • Who that happened to be at Honolulu during those ten memorable days will
  • ever forget them! The spectacle of universal broad-day debauchery, which
  • was then exhibited, beggars description. The natives of the surrounding
  • islands flocked to Honolulu by hundreds, and the crews of two frigates,
  • opportunely let loose like so many demons to swell the heathenish uproar,
  • gave the crowning flourish to the scene. It was a sort of Polynesian
  • saturnalia. Deeds too atrocious to be mentioned were done at noon-day in
  • the open street, and some of the islanders, caught in the very act of
  • stealing from the foreigners, were, on being taken to the fort by the
  • aggrieved party, suffered immediately to go at large and to retain the
  • stolen property—Kekuanoa informing the white men, with a sardonic grin,
  • that the laws were “hannapa” (tied up).
  • The history of these ten days reveals in their true colours the character
  • of the Sandwich islanders, and furnishes an eloquent commentary on the
  • results which have flowed from the labours of the missionaries. Freed from
  • the restraint of severe penal laws, the natives almost to a man had
  • plunged voluntarily into every species of wickedness and excess, and by
  • their utter disregard of all decency plainly showed that, although they
  • had been schooled into a seeming submission to the new order of things,
  • they were in reality as depraved and vicious as ever.
  • Such were the events which produced in America so general an outbreak of
  • indignation against the spirited and high-minded Paulet. He is not the
  • first man who, in the fearless discharge of his duty, has awakened the
  • senseless clamours of those whose narrow-minded suspicions blind them to a
  • proper appreciation of measures which unusual exigencies may have rendered
  • necessary.
  • It is almost needless to add that the British cabinet never had any idea
  • of appropriating the islands; and it furnishes a sufficient vindication of
  • the acts of Lord George Paulet, that he not only received the unqualified
  • approbation of his own government, but that to this hour the great body of
  • the Hawaiian people invoke blessings on his head, and look back with
  • gratitude to the time when his liberal and paternal sway diffused peace
  • and happiness among them.
  • FOOTNOTES
  • 1 The word “kannaka” is at the present day universally used in the
  • South Seas by Europeans to designate the islanders. In the various
  • dialects of the principal groups it is simply a sexual designation
  • applied to the males; but it is now used by the natives in their
  • intercourse with foreigners in the same sense in which the latter
  • employ it.
  • A “tabooed kannaka” is an islander whose person has been made, to a
  • certain extent, sacred by the operation of a singular custom
  • hereafter to be explained.
  • 2 I presume this might be translated into “Strong Waters.” Arva is the
  • name bestowed upon a root, the properties of which are both
  • inebriating and medicinal. “Wai” is the Marquesan word for water.
  • 3 White appears to be the sacred colour among the Marquesans.
  • 4 The word “Artua,” although having some other significations, is in
  • nearly all the Polynesian dialects used as the general designation
  • of the gods.
  • 5 The strict honesty which the inhabitants of nearly all the
  • Polynesian Islands manifest towards each other, is in striking
  • contrast with the thieving propensities some of them evince in their
  • intercourse with foreigners. It would almost seem that, according to
  • their peculiar code of morals, the pilfering of a hatchet or a
  • wrought nail from a European is looked upon as a praiseworthy
  • action. Or rather, it may be presumed, that bearing in mind the
  • wholesale forays made upon them by their nautical visitors, they
  • consider the property of the latter as a fair object of reprisal.
  • This consideration, while it serves to reconcile an apparent
  • contradiction in the moral character of the islanders, should in
  • some measure alter that low opinion of it which the reader of South
  • Sea voyages is too apt to form.
  • TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE
  • Obvious typographical errors were corrected:
  • page vi, “Mysterious” changed to “mysterious”
  • page 2, “attentuated” changed to “attenuated”
  • page 3, quote mark added after first “Marquesas!”
  • page 7, double primes changed to primes in first coordinate
  • page 18, “coacoa-nut” changed to “cocoa-nut”
  • page 23, period changed to comma after “home”
  • page 26, “tatooed” changed to “tattooed”
  • page 52, “Decend” changed to “Descend”
  • page 62, “hairbreath” changed to “hairbreadth”
  • page 66, “inceased” changed to “increased”
  • page 89, “interwined” changed to “intertwined”
  • page 112, “preverse” changed to “perverse”
  • page 120, “kemp” changed to “kelp”
  • page 123, “As” changed to “At”
  • page 150, period added after “enemy”
  • page 199, “Figneroa” changed to “Figueroa”
  • page 242, “as” changed to “is”
  • page 273, “tumultous” changed to “tumultuous”
  • page 281, comma added after “course”
  • Spelling variations were not normalized (e. g. “figure head”,
  • “figure-head” and “figurehead”, “forefinger” and “fore-finger”, “clamor”
  • and “clamour”, “verd-antique” and “verde-antique”, “incumbrances” and
  • “encumber”).
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