18. CHAPTER XVIII.
At early dawn of the following morning we saw the Peaks
of Tahiti. In clear weather they may be seen at the distance
of ninety miles.
“Hivarhoo!” shouted Wymontoo, overjoyed, and running
out upon the bowsprit when the land was first faintly descried
in the distance. But when the clouds floated away, and showed
the three peaks standing like obelisks against the sky; and the
bold shore undulating along the horizon, the tears gushed from
his eyes. Poor fellow! It was not Hivarhoo. Green Hivarhoo
was many a long league off.
Tahiti is by far the most famous island in the South Seas;
indeed, a variety of causes has made it almost classic. Its natural
features alone distinguish it from the surrounding groups.
Two round and lofty promontories, whose mountains rise nine
thousand feet above the level of the ocean, are connected by a
low, narrow isthmus; the whole being some one hundred miles
in circuit. From the great central peaks of the larger peninsula—Orohena,
Aorai, and Pirohitee—the land radiates on all
sides to the sea in sloping green ridges. Between these are
broad and shadowy valleys—in aspect, each a Tempe—watered
with fine streams, and thickly wooded. Unlike many of the
other islands, there extends nearly all round Tahiti, a belt of
low, alluvial soil, teeming with the richest vegetation. Here,
chiefly, the natives dwell.
Seen from the sea, the prospect is magnificent. It is one
mass of shaded tints of green, from beach to mountain top; endlessly
diversified with valleys, ridges, glens, and cascades.
Over the ridges, here and there, the loftier peaks fling their
shadows, and far down the valleys. At the head of these, the
water-falls flash out into the sunlight as if pouring through vertical
bowers of verdure. Such enchantment, too, breathes over
the whole, that it seems a fairy world, all fresh and blooming
from the hand of the Creator.
Upon a near approach, the picture loses not its attractions.
It is no exaggeration to say, that to a European of any sensibility,
who, for the first time, wanders back into these valleys
—away from the haunts of the natives—the ineffable repose and
beauty of the landscape is such, that every object strikes him
like something seen in a dream; and for a time he almost refuses
to believe that scenes like these should have a commonplace
existence. No wonder that the French bestowed upon
the island the appellation of the New Cytherea. “Often,” says
De Bourgainville, “I thought I was walking in the Garden of
Eden.”
Nor, when first discovered, did the inhabitants of this charming
country at all diminish the wonder and admiration of the
voyager. Their physical beauty and amiable dispositions harmonized
completely with the softness of their clime. In truth,
every thing about them was calculated to awaken the liveliest
interest. Glance at their civil and religious institutions. To
their king, divine rights were paid; while for poetry, their
mythology rivaled that of ancient Greece.
Of Tahiti, earlier and more full accounts were given, than of
any other island in Polynesia; and this is the reason why it
still retains so strong a hold on the sympathies of all readers of
South Sea voyages. The journals of its first visitors, containing,
as they did, such romantic descriptions of a country and people
before unheard of, produced a marked sensation throughout
Europe; and when the first Tahitians were carried thither,
Omai in London, and Aotooroo in Paris, were caressed by
nobles, scholars, and ladies.
In addition to all this, several eventful occurrences, more
or less connected with Tahiti, have tended to increase its
celebrity. Over two centuries ago, Quiros, the Spaniard, is
supposed to have touched at the island; and at intervals, Wallis,
Byron, Cook, De Bourgainville, Vancouver, Le Perouse, and
other illustrious navigators, refitted their vessels in its harbors.
Here the famous Transit of Venus was observed, in 1769.
Here the memorable mutiny of the Bounty afterward had its
origin. It was to the pagans of Tahiti that the first regularly
constituted Protestant missionaries were sent; and from their
shores also, have sailed successive missions to the neighboring
islands.
These, with other events, which might be mentioned, have
united in keeping up the first interest which the place awakened;
and the recent proceedings of the French have more
than ever called forth the sympathies of the public.
