39. CHAPTER XXXIX.
JERMIN SERVES US A GOOD TURN.—FRIENDSHIPS IN POLYNESIA.
The ship out of the way, we were quite anxious to know
what was going to be done with us. On this head, Captain
Bob could tell us nothing; no further at least, than that he still
considered himself responsible for our safe-keeping. However,
he never put us to bed any more; and we had every thing our
own way.
The day after the Julia left, the old man came up to us in
great tribulation, saying that the bucket of bread was no longer
forthcoming, and that Wilson had refused to send any thing in
its place. One and all, we took this for a hint to disperse
quietly, and go about our business. Nevertheless, we were not
to be shaken off so easily; and taking a malicious pleasure in
annoying our old enemy, we resolved, for the present, to stay
where we were. For the part he had been acting, we learned
that the consul was the laughing-stock of all the foreigners
ashore, who frequently twitted him upon his hopeful protegées
of the Calabooza Beretanee.
As we were wholly without resources, so long as we remained
on the island no better place than Captain Bob's could
be selected for an abiding-place. Beside, we heartily loved the
old gentleman, and could not think of leaving him; so, telling
him to give no thought as to wherewithal we should be clothed
and fed, we resolved, by extending and systematizing our foraging
operations, to provide for ourselves.
We were greatly assisted by a parting legacy of Jermin's.
To him we were indebted for having all our chests sent ashore,
and every thing left therein. They were placed in the custody
of a petty chief living near by, who was instructed by the consul
not to allow them to be taken away; but we might call and
make our toilets whenever we pleased.
We went to see Mahinee, the old chief; Captain Bob going
along, and stoutly insisting upon having the chattels delivered
up. At last this was done; and in solemn procession the chests
were borne by the natives to the Calabooza. Here, we disposed
them about quite tastefully; and made such a figure, that
in the eyes of old Bob and his friends, the Calabooza Beretanee
was by far the most sumptuously furnished saloon in Tahiti.
Indeed, so long as it remained thus furnished, the native
courts of the district were held there; the judge, Mahinee, and
his associates, sitting upon one of the chests, and the culprits
and spectators thrown at full length upon the ground, both inside
of the building, and under the shade of the trees without; while,
leaning over the stocks as from a gallery, the worshipful crew
of the Julia looked on, and canvassed the proceedings.
I should have mentioned before, that previous to the vessel's
departure, the men had bartered away all the clothing they
could possibly spare; but now, it was resolved to be more
provident.
The contents of the chests were of the most miscellaneous
description:—sewing utensils, marling-spikes, strips of calico,
bits of rope, jackknives; nearly every thing, in short, that a sea-man
could think of. But of wearing apparel, there was little
but old frocks, remnants of jackets, and legs of trowsers, with
now and then the foot of a stocking. These, however, were
far from being valueless; for, among the poorer Tahitians, every
thing European is highly esteemed. They come from “Beretanee,
Fenooa Pararee” (Britain, Land of Wonders), and that
is enough.
The chests themselves were deemed exceedingly precious,
especially those with unfractured locks, which would absolutely
click, and enable the owner to walk off with the key. Scars,
however, and bruises, were considered great blemishes. One
old fellow, smitten with the doctor's large mahogany chest (a
well filled one, by the by), and finding infinite satisfaction in
merely sitting thereon, was detected in the act of applying
a healing ointment to a shocking scratch which impaired the
beauty of the lid.
There is no telling the love of a Tahitian for a sailor's trunk.
So ornamental is it held as an article of furniture in his hut, that
the women are incessantly tormenting their husbands to bestir
themselves, and make them a present of one. When obtained,
no pier-table just placed in a drawing-room, is regarded with
half the delight. For these reasons, then, our coming into possession
of our estate at this time, was an important event.
The islanders are much like the rest of the world; and the
news of our good fortune brought us troops of “tayos” or
friends, eager to form an alliance after the national custom, and
do our slightest bidding.
The really curious way in which all the Polynesians are in
the habit of making bosom friends at the shortest possible notice,
is deserving of remark. Although, among a people like
the Tahitians, vitiated as they are by sophisticating influences,
this custom has in most cases degenerated into a mere mercenary
relation, it nevertheless had its origin in a fine, and in
some instances, heroic sentiment, formerly entertained by their
fathers.
In the annals of the island are examples of extravagant friendships,
unsurpassed by the story of Damon and Pythias: in truth,
much more wonderful; for, notwithstanding the devotion—even
of life in some cases—to which they led, they were frequently
entertained at first sight for some stranger from another island.
Filled with love and admiration for the first whites who came
among them, the Polynesians could not testify the warmth of
their emotions more strongly, than by instantaneously making
their abrupt proffer of friendship. Hence, in old voyages we
read of chiefs coming off from the shore in their canoes, and
going through with strange antics, expressive of this desire. In
the same way, their inferiors accosted the seamen; and thus the
practice has continued in some islands down to the present day.
There is a small place, not many days' sail from Tahiti, and
seldom visited by shipping, where the vessel touched to which
I then happened to belong.
Of course, among the simple-hearted natives, we had a friend
all round. Mine was Poky, a handsome youth, who never could
do enough for me. Every morning at sunrise, his canoe came
alongside loaded with fruits of all kinds; upon being emptied,
it was secured by a line to the bowsprit, under which it lay
all day long, ready at any time to carry its owner ashore on an
errand.
Seeing him so indefatigable, I told Poky one day, that I was a
virtuoso in shells and curiosities of all kinds. That was enough;
away he paddled for the head of the bay, and I never saw him
again for twenty-four hours. The next morning, his canoe
came gliding slowly along the shore, with the full-leaved bough
of a tree for a sail. For the purpose of keeping the things dry,
he had also built a sort of platform just behind the prow, railed
in with green wicker-work; and here was a heap of yellow
bananas and cowree shells; young cocoa-nuts and antlers of red
coral; two or three pieces of carved wood; a little pocket-idol,
black as jet, and rolls of printed tappa.
We were given a holyday; and upon going ashore, Poky, of
course, was my companion and guide. For this, no mortal
could be better qualified; his native country was not large, and
he knew every inch of it. Gallanting me about, every one was
stopped and ceremoniously introduced to Poky's “tayo karhowree
nuee” or his particular white friend.
He showed me all the lions; but more than all, he took me
to see a charming lioness—a young damsel—the daughter of a
chief—the reputation of whose charms had spread to the neighboring
islands, and even brought suitors therefrom. Among
these was Tooboi, the heir of Tamatoy, King of Raiatair, one
of the Society Isles. The girl was certainly fair to look upon.
Many heavens were in her sunny eyes; and the outline of that
arm of hers, peeping forth from a capricious tappa robe, was the
very curve of beauty.
Though there was no end to Poky's attentions, not a syllable
did he ever breathe of reward; but sometimes he looked
very knowing. At last the day came for sailing, and with it,
also, his canoe, loaded down to the gunwale with a sea stock
of fruits. Giving him all I could spare from my chest, I went
on deck to take my place at the windlass; for the anchor was
weighing. Poky followed, and heaved with me at the same
handspike.
The anchor was soon up; and away we went out of the bay
with more than twenty shallops towing astern. At last they left
us; but long as I could see him at all, there was Poky, standing
alone and motionless in the bow of his canoe.
END OF PART I.
