University of Virginia Library

2. PART II.

40. CHAPTER XL.

The arrival of the chests made my friend, the doctor, by far
the wealthiest man of the party. So much the better for me,
seeing that I had little or nothing myself; though from our
intimacy, the natives courted my favor almost as much as his.

Among others, Kooloo was a candidate for my friendship;
and being a comely youth, quite a buck in his way, I accepted
his overtures. By this, I escaped the importunities of the rest;
for be it known, that, though little inclined to jealousy in love
matters, the Tahitian will hear of no rivals in his friendship.

Kooloo, running over his qualifications as a friend, first of all
informed me, that he was a “Mickonaree,” thus declaring his
communion with the church.

The way this “tayo” of mine expressed his regard, was by
assuring me over and over again, that the love he bore me
was “nuee, nuee, nuee,” or infinitesimally extensive. All over
these seas, the word “nuee” is significant of quantity. Its repetition
is like placing ciphers at the right hand of a numeral;
the more places you carry it out to, the greater the sum. Judge,
then, of Kooloo's esteem. Nor is the allusion to the ciphers
at all inappropriate, seeing that, in themselves, Kooloo's professions

turned out to be worthless. He was, alas! as sounding
brass and a tinkling cymbal; one of those who make no
music unless the clapper be silver.

In the course of a few days, the sailors, like the doctor and
myself, were cajoled out of every thing, and our “tayos,” all
round, began to cool off quite sensibly. So remiss did they
become in their attentions, that we could no longer rely upon
their bringing us the daily supply of food, which all of them
had faithfully promised.

As for Kooloo, after sponging me well, he one morning
played the part of a retrograde lover; informing me, that his
affections had undergone a change; he had fallen in love at
first sight with a smart sailor, who had just stepped ashore
quite flush from a lucky whaling-cruise.

It was a touching interview, and with it, our connection dissolved.
But the sadness which ensued would soon have been
dissipated, had not my sensibilities been wounded by his indelicately
sporting some of my gifts very soon after this transfer of
his affections. Hardly a day passed, that I did not meet him
on the Broom Road, airing himself in a Regatta shirt, which I
had given him in happier hours.

He went by with such an easy saunter too, looking me
pleasantly in the eye, and merely exchanging the cold salute of
the road:—“Yar onor, boyoee,” a mere side-walk how d'ye
do. After several experiences like this, I began to entertain a
sort of respect for Kooloo, as quite a man of the world. In
good sooth, he turned out to be one; in one week's time giving
me the cut direct, and lounging by without even nodding. He
must have taken me for part of the landscape.

Before the chests were quite empty, we had a grand washing
in the stream of our best raiment, for the purpose of looking
tidy, and visiting the European chapel in the village. Every
Sunday morning it is open for divine service, some member of

the mission officiating. This was the first time we ever entered
Papeetee unattended by an escort.

In the chapel there were about forty people present, including
the officers of several ships in harbor. It was an energetic
discourse, and the pulpit cushion was well pounded. Occupying
a high seat in the synagogue, and stiff as a flag-staff, was
our beloved guardian, Wilson. I shall never forget his look of
wonder when his interesting wards filed in at the doorway, and
took up a seat directly facing him.

Service over, we waited outside in hopes of seeing more of
him; but sorely annoyed at the sight of us, he reconnoitered
from the window, and never came forth until we had started
for home.

41. CHAPTER XLI.

Scarcely a week went by after the Julia's sailing, when,
with the proverbial restlessness of sailors, some of the men
began to grow weary of the Calabooza Beretanee, and resolved
to go boldly among the vessels in the bay, and offer to ship.

The thing was tried; but though strongly recommended by
the commodore of the beachcombers, in the end they were
invariably told by the captains to whom they applied, that they
bore an equivocal character ashore, and would not answer.
So often were they repulsed, that we pretty nearly gave up all
thoughts of leaving the island in this way; and growing domestic
again, settled down quietly at Captain Bob's.

It was about this time, that the whaling-ships, which have
their regular seasons for cruising, began to arrive at Papeetee;
and of course their crews frequently visited us. This is customary
all over the Pacific. No sailor steps ashore, but he
straightway goes to the “Calabooza,” where he is almost sure
to find some poor fellow or other in confinement for desertion,
or alledged mutiny, or something of that sort. Sympathy is
proffered, and if need be, tobacco. The latter, however, is
most in request; as a solace to the captive, it is invaluable.

Having fairly carried the day against both consul and captain,
we were objects of even more than ordinary interest to
these philanthropists; and they always cordially applauded
our conduct. Besides, they invariably brought along something
in the way of refreshments; occasionally smuggling in a little

Pisco. Upon one occasion, when there was quite a number
present, a calabash was passed round, and a pecuniary collection
taken up for our benefit.

One day a new comer proposed, that two or three of us should
pay him a sly, nocturnal visit aboard his ship; engaging to send
us away well freighted with provisions. This was not a bad
idea; nor were we at all backward in acting upon it. Night
after night every vessel in the harbor was visited in rotation,
the foragers borrowing Captain Bob's canoe for the purpose.
As we all took turns at this—two by two—in due course it
came to Long Ghost and myself, for the sailors invariably linked
us together. In such an enterprise, I somewhat distrusted the
doctor, for he was no sailor, and very tall; and a canoe is the
most ticklish of navigable things. However, it could not be
helped; and so we went.

But a word about the canoes, before we go any further.
Among the Society Islands, the art of building them, like all
native accomplishments, has greatly deteriorated; and they are
now the most inelegant, as well as the most insecure of any in
the South Seas. In Cook's time, according to his account,
there was at Tahiti a royal fleet of seventeen hundred and
twenty large war-canoes, handsomely carved, and otherwise
adorned. At present, those used are quite small; nothing more
than logs hollowed out, sharpened at one end, and then lanched
into the water.

To obviate a certain rolling propensity, the Tahitians, like
all Polynesians, attach to them what sailors call an “outrigger.”
It consists of a pole floating alongside, parallel to the canoe,
and connected with it by a couple of cross sticks, a yard or
more in length. Thus equipped, the canoe can not be over-turned,
unless you overcome the buoyancy of the pole, or lift it
entirely out of the water.

Now, Captain Bob's “gig” was exceedingly small; so small,

and of such a grotesque shape, that the sailors christened it the
Pill Box; and by this appellation it always went. In fact, it
was a sort of “sulky,” meant for a solitary paddler, but on an
emergency, capable of floating two or three. The outrigger
was a mere switch, alternately rising in air, and then depressed
in the water.

Assuming the command of the expedition, upon the strength
of my being a sailor, I packed the Long Doctor with a paddle
in the bow, and then shoving off, leaped into the stern; thus
leaving him to do all the work, and reserving to myself the
dignified sinecure of steering. All would have gone well, were
it not that my paddler made such clumsy work, that the water
spattered, and showered down upon us without ceasing. Continuing
to ply his tool, however, quite energetically, I thought
he would improve after a while, and so let him alone. But
by and by, getting wet through with this little storm we were
raising, and seeing no signs of its clearing off, I conjured him, in
mercy's name, to stop short, and let me wring myself out.
Upon this, he suddenly turned round, when the canoe gave a
roll, the outrigger flew overhead, and the next moment came
rap on the doctor's skull, and we were both in the water.

Fortunately, we were just over a ledge of coral, not half-a-fathom
under the surface. Depressing one end of the filled
canoe, and letting go of it quickly, it bounced up, and discharged
great part of its contents; so that we easily baled out the remainder,
and again embarked. This time, my comrade coiled
himself away in a very small space; and enjoining upon him
not to draw a single unnecessary breath, I proceeded to urge
the canoe along by myself. I was astonished at his docility,
never speaking a word, and stirring neither hand nor foot; but
the secret was, he was unable to swim, and in case we met
with a second mishap, there were no more ledges beneath to
stand upon. “Drowning's but a shabby way of going out of the

world,” he exclaimed, upon my rallying him; “and I'm not
going to be guilty of it.”

At last, the ship was at hand, and we approached with much
caution, wishing to avoid being hailed by any one from the
quarter-deck. Dropping silently under her bows, we heard a
low whistle—the signal agreed upon—and presently a goodly
sized bag was lowered over to us.

We cut the line, and then paddled away as fast as we could,
and made the best of our way home. Here, we found the
rest waiting impatiently.

The bag turned out to be well filled with sweet potatoes
boiled, cubes of salt beef and pork, and a famous sailors' pudding,
what they call “duff,” made of flour and water, and of
about the consistence of an underdone brick. With these
delicacies, and keen appetites, we went out into the moonlight,
and had a nocturnal picknick.

42. CHAPTER XLII.

The Pill-Box was sometimes employed for other purposes
than that described in the last chapter. We sometimes went
a-pleasuring in it.

Right in the middle of Papeetee harbor is a bright, green
island, one circular grove of waving palms, and scarcely a hundred
yards across. It is of coral formation; and all round, for
many rods out, the bay is so shallow, that you might wade anywhere.
Down in these waters, as transparent as air, you see
coral plants of every hue and shape imaginable:—antlers, tufts
of azure, waving reeds like stalks of grain, and pale green buds
and mosses. In some places, you look through prickly branches
down to a snow-white floor of sand, sprouting with flinty bulbs;
and crawling among these are strange shapes:—some bristling
with spikes, others clad in shining coats-of-mail, and here and
there, round forms all spangled with eyes.

The island is called Motoo-Otoo; and around Motoo-Otoo
have I often paddled of a white moonlight night, pausing now
and then to admire the marine gardens beneath.

The place is the private property of the queen, who has a residence
there—a melancholy-looking range of bamboo houses—
neglected and falling to decay among the trees.

Commanding the harbor as it does, her majesty has done all
she could to make a fortress of the island. The margin has
been raised and leveled, and built up with a low parapet of
hewn blocks of coral. Behind the parapet, are ranged at wide

intervals, a number of rusty old cannon, of all fashions and
calibres. They are mounted upon lame, decrepit-looking carriages,
ready to sink under the useless burden of bearing them
up. Indeed, two or three have given up the ghost altogether,
and the pieces they sustained lie half-buried among their
bleaching bones. Several of the cannon are spiked; probably
with a view of making them more formidable; as they certainly
must be to any one undertaking to fire them off.

Presented to Pomaree at various times by captains of British
armed ships, these poor old “dogs of war,” thus toothless and
turned out to die, formerly bayed in full pack, as the battle
hounds of Old England.

There was something about Motoo-Otoo that struck my fancy;
and I registered a vow to plant my foot upon its soil, notwithstanding
an old bareheaded sentry menaced me in the moonlight
with an unsightly musket. As my canoe drew scarcely
three inches of water, I could paddle close up to the parapet
without grounding; but every time I came near, the old man
ran toward me, pushing his piece forward, but never clapping
it to his shoulder. Thinking he only meant to frighten me, I
at last dashed the canoe right up to the wall, purposing a leap.
It was the rashest act of my life; for never did cocoa-nut come
nearer getting demolished, than mine did then. With the stock
of his gun, the old warder fetched a tremendous blow, which I
managed to dodge; and then falling back, succeeded in paddling
out of harm's reach.

He must have been dumb; for never a word did he utter;
but grinning from ear to ear, and with his white cotton robe
streaming in the moonlight, he looked more like the spook of
the island than any thing mortal.

I tried to effect my object by attacking him in the rear—but
he was all front; running about the place as I paddled, and
presenting his confounded musket wherever I went. At last

I was obliged to retreat; and to this day my vow remains
unfulfilled.

It was a few days after my repulse from before the walls of
Motoo Otoo, that I heard a curious case of casuistry argued between
one of the most clever and intelligent natives I ever saw
in Tahiti, a man by the name of Arheetoo, and our learned
Theban of a doctor.

It was this:—whether it was right and lawful for any one,
being a native, to keep the European Sabbath, in preference to
the day set apart as such by the missionaries, and so considered
by the islanders in general.

It must be known, that the missionaries of the good ship
Duff, who more than half-a-century ago established the Tahitian
reckoning, came hither by the way of the Cape of Good
Hope; and by thus sailing to the eastward, lost one precious
day of their lives all round, getting about that much in advance
of Greenwich time. For this reason, vessels coming round
Cape Horn—as they most all do nowadays—find it Sunday
in Tahiti, when, according to their own view of the matter, it
ought to be Saturday. But as it won't do to alter the log, the
sailors keep their Sabbath, and the islanders theirs.

This confusion perplexes the poor natives mightily; and it is
to no purpose that you endeavor to explain so incomprehensible
a phenomenon. I once saw a worthy old missionary essay
to shed some light on the subject; and though I understood but
few of the words employed, I could easily get at the meaning
of his illustrations. They were something like the following:

“Here,” says he, “you see this circle” (describing a large
one on the ground with a stick): “very good; now you see
this spot here” (marking a point in the perimeter): “well;
this is Beretanee (England), and I'm going to sail round to Tahiti.
Here I go, then; (following the circle round), and there
goes the sun (snatching up another stick, and commissioning a

bandy-legged native to travel round with it in a contrary direction).
Now then, we are both off, and both going away from
each other; and here you see I have arrived at Tahiti (making
a sudden stop); and look now, where Bandy Legs is!”

But the crowd strenuously maintained, that Bandy Legs
ought to be somewhere above them in the atmosphere; for it
was a traditionary fact, that the people from the Duff came
ashore when the sun was high overhead. And here the old
gentleman, being a very good sort of man, doubtless, but no
astronomer, was obliged to give up.

Arheetoo, the casuist alluded to, though a member of the
church, and extremely conscientious about what Sabbath he
kept, was more liberal in other matters. Learning that I was
something of a “mickonaree” (in this sense, a man able to
read, and cunning in the use of the pen), he desired the slight
favor of my forging for him a set of papers; for which, he said,
he would be much obliged, and give me a good dinner of roast
pig and Indian turnip in the bargain.

Now, Arheetoo was one of those who board the shipping
for their washing; and the competition being very great (the
proudest chiefs not disdaining to solicit custom in person,
though the work is done by their dependents), he had decided
upon a course suggested by a knowing sailor, a friend of his.
He wished to have manufactured a set of certificates, purporting
to come from certain man-of-war and merchant captains,
known to have visited the island; recommending him as one
of the best getters up of fine linen in all Polynesia.

At this time, Arheetoo had known me but two hours; and,
as he made the proposition very coolly, I thought it rather presumptuous,
and told him so. But as it was quite impossible to
convey a hint, that there was a slight impropriety in the thing,
I did not resent the insult, but simply declined.

43. CHAPTER XLIII.

Although, from its novelty, life at Captain Bob's was
pleasant enough, for the time; there were some few annoyances
connected with it, any thing but agreeable to a “soul of
sensibility.”

Prejudiced against us by the malevolent representations of
the consul and others, many worthy foreigners ashore regarded
us as a set of lawless vagabonds; though, truth to speak, better
behaved sailors never stepped on the island, nor any who gave
less trouble to the natives. But, for all this, whenever we met
a respectably dressed European, ten to one he shunned us, by
going over to the other side of the road. This was very unpleasant,
at least to myself; though, certes, it did not prey
upon the minds of the others.

To give an instance.

Of a fine evening in Tahiti—but they are all fine evenings
there—you may see a bevy of silk bonnets and parasols passing
along the Broom Road: perhaps a band of pale, little
white urchins—sickly exotics—and, oftener still, sedate, elderly
gentlemen, with canes; at whose appearance the natives, here
and there, slink into their huts. These are the missionaries,
their wives, and children, taking a family airing. Sometimes,
by the by, they take horse, and ride down to Point Venus and
back; a distance of several miles. At this place is settled the
only survivor of the first missionaries that landed—an old,
white-headed, saint-like man, by the name of Wilson, the
father of our friend, the consul.

The little parties on foot were frequently encountered; and,
recalling, as they did, so many pleasant recollections of home
and the ladies, I really longed for a dress coat and beaver, that
I might step up and pay my respects. But, situated as I was,
this was out of the question. On one occasion, however, I
received a kind, inquisitive glance, from a matron in gingham.
Sweet lady! I have not forgotten her: her gown was a plaid.

But a glance, like hers, was not always bestowed.

One evening, passing the verandah of a missionary's dwelling,
the dame, his wife, and a pretty, blond young girl, with
ringlets, were sitting there, enjoying the sea-breeze, then
coming in, all cool and refreshing, from the spray of the reef.
As I approached, the old lady peered hard at me; and her
very cap seemed to convey a prim rebuke. The blue, English
eyes, by her side, were also bent on me. But, oh Heavens!
what a glance to receive, from such a beautiful creature! As
for the mob cap, not a fig did I care for it; but, to be taken for
any thing but a cavalier, by the ringleted one, was absolutely
unendurable.

I resolved on a courteous salute, to show my good-breeding,
if nothing more. But, happening to wear a sort of turban—
hereafter to be particularly alluded to—there was no taking it
off and putting it on again, with any thing like dignity. At
any rate, then, here goes a bow. But, another difficulty presented
itself: my loose frock was so voluminous, that I doubted
whether any spinal curviture would be perceptible.

“Good-evening, ladies,” exclaimed I, at last, advancing
winningly; “a delightful air from the sea, ladies.”

Hysterics and hartshorn! who would have thought it? The
young lady screamed, and the old one came near fainting.
As for myself, I retreated, in double quick time; and scarcely
drew breath, until safely housed in the Calabooza.

44. CHAPTER XLIV.

On Sundays I always attended the principal native church on
the outskirts of the village of Papeetee, and not far from the
Calabooza Beretanee. It was esteemed the best specimen of
architecture in Tahiti.

Of late, they have built their places of worship with more
reference to durability than formerly. At one time, there were
no less than thirty-six on the island—mere barns, tied together
with thongs, which went to destruction in a very few years.

One, built many years ago in this style, was a most remarkable
structure. It was erected by Pomaree II., who, on this
occasion, showed all the zeal of a royal proselyte. The building
was over seven hundred feet in length, and of a proportionate
width; the vast ridge-pole was at intervals supported by
a row of thirty-six cylindrical trunks of the bread-fruit tree;
and, all round, the wall-plates rested on shafts of the palm.
The roof—steeply inclining to within a man's height of the
ground—was thatched with leaves, and the sides of the edifice
were open. Thus spacious was the Royal Mission Chapel of
Papoar.

At its dedication, three distinct sermons were, from different
pulpits, preached to an immense concourse gathered from all
parts of the island.

As the chapel was built by the king's command, nearly as
great a multitude was employed in its construction, as swarmed
over the scaffolding of the great temple of the Jews. Much
less time, however, was expended. In less than three weeks

from planting the first post, the last tier of palmetto-leaves
drooped from the eaves, and the work was done.

Apportioned to the several chiefs and their dependents, the
labor, though immense, was greatly facilitated by every one's
bringing his post, or his rafter, or his pole strung with thatching,
ready for instant use. The materials thus prepared being
afterward secured together by thongs, there was literally
“neither hammer, nor axe, nor any tool of iron heard in the
house while it was building.”

But the most singular circumstance connected with this
South Sea cathedral, remains to be related. As well for the
beauty, as the advantages of such a site, the islanders love to
dwell near the mountain streams; and so, a considerable brook,
after descending from the hills and watering the valley, was
bridged over in three places, and swept clean through the
chapel.

Flowing waters! what an accompaniment to the songs of the
sanctuary; mingling with them, the praises and thanksgivings
of the green solitudes inland.

But the chapel of the Polynesian Solomon has long since
been deserted. Its thousand rafters of habiscus have decayed,
and fallen to the ground; and now, the stream murmurs over
them in its bed.

The present metropolitan church of Tahiti is very unlike the
one just described. It is of moderate dimensions, boarded
over, and painted white. It is furnished also with blinds, but
no sashes; indeed, were it not for the rustic thatch, it would
remind one of a plain chapel at home.

The wood-work was all done by foreign carpenters, of whom
there are always several about Papeetee.

Within, its aspect is unique, and can not fail to interest a
stranger. The rafters overhead are bound round with fine
matting of variegated dyes; and all along the ridge-pole, these

trappings hang pendent, in alternate bunches of tassels and deep
fringes of stained grass. The floor is composed of rude planks.
Regular aisles run between ranges of native settees, bottomed
with crossed braids of the cocoa-nut fibre, and furnished with
backs.

But the pulpit, made of a dark, lustrous wood, and standing
at one end, is by far the most striking object. It is preposterously
lofty; indeed, a capital bird's-eye view of the congregation
ought to be had from its summit.

Nor does the church lack a gallery, which runs round on
three sides, and is supported by columns of the cocoa-nut tree.

Its facings are here and there daubed over with a tawdry
blue; and in other places (without the slightest regard to uniformity),
patches of the same color may be seen. In their ardor
to decorate the sanctuary, the converts must have borrowed
each a brush full of paint, and zealously daubed away at the
first surface that offered.

As hinted, the general impression is extremely curious. Little
light being admitted, and every thing being of a dark color,
there is an indefinable Indian aspect of duskiness, throughout.
A strange, woody smell, also—more or less pervading every
considerable edifice in Polynesia—is at once perceptible. It
suggests the idea of worm-eaten idols packed away in some old
lumber-room at hand.

For the most part, the congregation attending this church is
composed of the better and wealthier orders—the chiefs and
their retainers; in short, the rank and fashion of the island.
This class is infinitely superior in personal beauty and general
healthfulness to the “marenhoar,” or common people; the
latter having been more exposed to the worst and most debasing
evils of foreign intercourse. On Sundays, the former are
invariably arrayed in their finery; and thus appear to the best
advantage. Nor are they driven to the chapel, as some of their

inferiors are to other places of worship; on the contrary, capable
of maintaining a handsome exterior, and possessing greater
intelligence, they go voluntarily.

In respect of the woodland colonnade supporting its galleries,
I called this chapel the Church of the Cocoa-nuts.

It was the first place for Christian worship in Polynesia that
I had seen; and the impression upon entering during service
was all the stronger. Majestic-looking chiefs, whose fathers
had hurled the battle-club, and old men who had seen sacrifices
smoking upon the altars of Oro, were there. And hark! hanging
from the bough of a bread-fruit tree without, a bell is being
struck with a bar of iron by a native lad. In the same spot,
the blast of the war-conch had often resounded. But to the
proceedings within.

The place is well filled. Everywhere meets the eye the gay
calico draperies worn on great occasions by the higher classes,
and forming a strange contrast of patterns and colors. In some
instances, these are so fashioned as to resemble as much as possible,
European garments. This is in excessively bad taste.
Coats and pantaloons, too, are here and there seen; but they
look awakwardly enough, and take away from the general effect.

But it is the array of countenances that most strikes you.
Each is suffused with the peculiar animation of the Polynesians,
when thus collected in large numbers. Every robe is rustling,
every limb in motion, and an incessant buzzing going on
throughout the assembly. The tumult is so great, that the voice
of the placid old missionary, who now rises, is almost inaudible.
Some degree of silence is at length obtained through
the exertions of half-a-dozen strapping fellows, in white shirts
and no pantaloons. Running in among the settees, they are
at great pains to inculcate the impropriety of making a noise,
by creating a most unnecessary racket themselves. This part
of the service was quite comical.

There is a most interesting Sabbath School connected with
the church; and the scholars, a vivacious, mischievous set, were
in one part of the gallery. I was amused by a party in a corner.
The teacher sat at one end of the bench, with a meek
little fellow by his side. When the others were disorderly, this
young martyr received a rap; intended, probably, as a sample
of what the rest might expect, if they didn't amend.

Standing in the body of the church, and leaning against a
pillar, was an old man, in appearance very different from
others of his countrymen. He wore nothing but a coarse,
scant mantle, of faded tappa; and from his staring, bewildered
manner, I set him down as an aged bumpkin from the
interior, unaccustomed to the strange sights and sounds of the
metropolis. This old worthy was sharply reprimanded for
standing up, and thus intercepting the view of those behind;
but not comprehending exactly what was said to him, one of
the white liveried gentry made no ceremony of grasping him
by the shoulders, and fairly crushing him down into a seat.

During all this, the old missionary in the pulpit—as well as
his associates beneath, never ventured to interfere—leaving
every thing to native management. With South Sea islanders,
assembled in any numbers, there is no other way of getting
along.

45. CHAPTER XLV.

Some degree of order at length restored, the service was
continued, by singing. The choir was composed of twelve or
fifteen ladies of the mission, occupying a long bench to the left
of the pulpit. Almost the entire congregation joined in.

The first air fairly startled me; it was the brave tune of
Old Hundred, adapted to a Tahitian psalm. After the graceless
scenes I had recently passed through, this circumstance,
with all its accessories, moved me forcibly.

Many voices around were of great sweetness and compass.
The singers, also, seemed to enjoy themselves mightily; some
of them pausing, now and then, and looking round, as if to
realize the scene more fully. In truth, they sang right joyously,
despite the solemnity of the tune.

The Tahitians have much natural talent for singing; and, on
all occasions, are exceedingly fond of it. I have often heard a
stave or two of psalmody, hummed over by rakish young
fellows, like a snatch from an opera.

With respect to singing, as in most other matters, the Tahitians
widely differ from the people of the Sandwich Islands;
where the parochial flocks may be said rather to bleat than
sing.

The psalm concluded, a prayer followed. Very considerately,
the good old missionary made it short; for the congregation
became fidgety and inattentive as soon as it commenced.

A chapter of the Tahitian Bible was now read; a text
selected; and the sermon began. It was listened to with more
attention than I had anticipated.

Having been informed, from various sources, that the discourses
of the missionaries, being calculated to engage the
attention of their simple auditors, were, naturally enough, of a
rather amusing description to strangers; in short, that they
had much to say about steamboats, lord mayor's coaches, and
the way fires are put out in London, I had taken care to provide
myself with a good interpreter, in the person of an intelligent
Hawaiian sailor, whose acquaintance I had made.

“Now, Jack,” said I, before entering, “hear every word,
and tell me what you can, as the missionary goes on.”

Jack's was not, perhaps, a critical version of the discourse;
and, at the time, I took no notes of what he said. Nevertheless,
I will here venture to give what I remember of it; and,
as far as possible, in Jack's phraseology, so as to lose nothing
by a double translation.

“Good friends, I glad to see you; and I very well like to
have some talk with you to-day. Good friends, very bad times
in Tahiti; it make me weep. Pomaree is gone—the island
no more yours, but the Wee-Wee's (French). Wicked priests
here, too; and wicked idols in woman's clothes, and brass
chains.[1]

“Good friends, no you speak, or look at them—but I know
you won't—they belong to a set of robbers—the wicked Wee-Wees.
Soon these bad men be made to go very quick.
Beretanee ships of thunder come, and away they go. But no
more 'bout this now. I speak more by by.

“Good friends, many whale-ships here now; and many bad
men come in 'em. No good sailors living—that you know

very well. They come here, 'cause so bad they no keep 'em
home.

“My good little girls, no run after sailors—no go where
they go; they harm you. Where they come from, no good
people talk to 'em—just like dogs. Here, they talk to Pomaree,
and drink arva with great Poofai.[2]

“Good friends, this very small island, but very wicked, and
very poor; these two go together. Why Beretanee so great?
Because that island good island, and send mickonaree[3] to poor
kannaka.[4] In Beretanee, every man rich: plenty things to buy;
and plenty things to sell. Houses bigger than Pomaree's, and
more grand. Every body, too, ride about in coaches, bigger
than hers;[5] and wear fine tappa every day. (Several luxurious
appliances of civilization were here enumerated, and described.)

“Good friends, little to eat left at my house. Schooner
from Sydney no bring bag of flour; and kannaka no bring pig
and fruit enough. Mickonaree do great deal for kannaka;
kannaka do little for mickonaree. So, good friends, weave
plenty of cocoa-nut baskets, fill 'em, and bring 'em to-morrow.”

Such was the substance of great part of this discourse; and,
whatever may be thought of it, it was specially adapted to the
minds of the islanders; who are susceptible to no impressions,
except from things palpable, or novel and striking. To them,
a dry sermon would be dry indeed.

The Tahitians can hardly ever be said to reflect: they are
all impulse; and so, instead of expounding dogmas, the
missionaries give them the large type, pleasing cuts, and
short, and easy lessons of the primer. Hence, any thing like
a permanent religious impression, is seldom or never produced.

In fact, there is, perhaps, no race upon earth, less disposed,
by nature, to the monitions of Christianity, than the people of
the South Sea. And this assertion is made, with full knowledge
of what is called the “Great Revival at the Sandwich
Islands,” about the year 1836; when several thousands were,
in the course of a few weeks, admitted into the bosom of the
Church. But this result was brought about by no sober moral
convictions; as an almost instantaneous relapse into every kind
of licentiousness, soon afterward testified. It was the legitimate
effect of a morbid feeling, engendered by the sense of severe
physical wants, preying upon minds excessively prone to superstition;
and, by fanatical preaching, inflamed into the belief,
that the gods of the missionaries were taking vengeance upon
the wickedness of the land.[6]

It is a noteworthy fact, that those very traits in the Tahitians,
which induced the London Missionary Society to regard them
as the most promising subjects for conversion; and which led,
moreover, to the selection of their island as the very first field
for missionary labor, eventually proved the most serious obstruction.
An air of softness in their manners, great apparent
ingenuousness and docility, at first misled; but these were the
mere accompaniments of an indolence, bodily and mental; a
constitutional voluptuousness; and an aversion to the least
restraint; which, however fitted for the luxurious state of
nature, in the tropics, are the greatest possible hinderances to
the strict moralities of Christianity.

Added to all this, is a quality inherent in Polynesians; and
more akin to hypocrisy than any thing else. It leads them to
assume the most passionate interest, in matters for which they
really feel little or none whatever; but in which, those whose
power they dread, or whose favor they court, they believe to
be at all affected. Thus, in their heathen state, the Sandwich
Islanders actually knocked out their teeth, tore their hair, and
mangled their bodies with shells, to testify their inconsolable
grief at the demise of a high chief, or member of the royal
family. And yet, Vancouver relates, that, on such an occasion,
upon which he happened to be present, those apparently the
most abandoned to their feelings, immediately assumed the
utmost light-heartedness, on receiving the present of a penny
whistle, or a Dutch looking-glass. Similar instances, also, have
come under my own observation.

The following is an illustration of the trait alluded to, as
occasionally manifested among the converted Polynesians.

At one of the Society Islands—Raiatair, I believe—the
natives, for special reasons, desired to commend themselves
particularly to the favor of the missionaries. Accordingly,
during divine service, many of them behaved in a manner,
otherwise unaccountable, and precisely similar to their behavior
as heathens. They pretended to be wrought up to
madness by the preaching which they heard. They rolled
their eyes; foamed at the mouth; fell down in fits; and so,
were carried home. Yet, strange to relate, all this was deemed
the evidence of the power of the Most High; and, as such,
was heralded abroad.

But, to return to the Church of the Cocoa-nuts. The blessing
pronounced, the congregation disperse; enlivening the
Broom Road with their waving mantles. On either hand, they
disappear down the shaded pathways, which lead off from
the main route, conducting to hamlets in the groves, or to the

little marine villas upon the beach. There is considerable
hilarity; and you would suppose them just from an old-fashioned
“hevar,” or jolly heathen dance. Those who carry
Bibles, swing them carelessly from their arms, by cords of
sinnate.

The Sabbath is no ordinary day with the Tahitians. So
far as doing any work is concerned, it is scrupulously observed.
The canoes are hauled up on the beach; the nets
are spread to dry. Passing by the hen-coop huts, on the
roadside, you find their occupants idle, as usual; but less
disposed to gossip. After service, repose broods over the
whole island; the valleys reaching inland look stiller than
ever.

In short, it is Sunday—their “Taboo Day;” the very word,
formerly expressing the sacredness of their pagan observances,
now proclaiming the sanctity of the Christian Sabbath.

46. CHAPTER XLVI.

A worthy young man, formerly a friend of mine (I speak of
Kooloo with all possible courtesy, since after our intimacy there
would be an impropriety in doing otherwise)—this worthy
youth, having some genteel notions of retirement, dwelt in a
“maroo boro,” or bread-fruit shade, a pretty nook in a wood,
midway between the Calabooza Beretanee and the Church of
Cocoa-nuts. Hence, at the latter place, he was one of the most
regular worshipers.

Kooloo was a blade. Standing up in the congregation in all
the bravery of a striped calico shirt, with the skirts rakishly
adjusted over a pair of white sailor trowsers, and hair well
anointed with cocoa-nut oil, he ogled the ladies with an air of
supreme satisfaction. Nor were his glances unreturned.

But such looks as the Tahitian belles cast at each other:
frequently turning up their noses at the advent of a new cotton
mantle recently imported in the chest of some amorous sailor.
Upon one occasion, I observed a group of young girls, in tunics
of coarse, soiled sheeting, disdainfully pointing at a damsel in
a flaming red one. “Oee tootai owree!” said they with ineffable
scorn, “itai maitai!” (you are a good-for-nothing huzzy, no
better than you should be).

Now, Kooloo communed with the church; so did all these
censorious young ladies. Yet after eating bread-fruit at the
Eucharist, I knew several of them, the same night, to be guilty
of some sad derelictions.

Puzzled by these things, I resolved to find out, if possible,
what ideas, if any, they entertained of religion; but as one's
spiritual concerns are rather delicate for a stranger to meddle
with, I went to work as adroitly as I could.

Farnow, an old native who had recently retired from active
pursuits, having thrown up the business of being a sort of
running footman to the queen, had settled down in a snug
little retreat, not fifty rods from Captain Bob's. His selecting
our vicinity for his residence, may have been with some
view to the advantages it afforded for introducing his three
daughters into polite circles. At any rate, not averse to
receiving the attentions of so devoted a gallant as the doctor,
the sisters (communicants, be it remembered) kindly extended
to him, free permission to visit them sociably, whenever he
pleased.

We dropped in one evening, and found the ladies at home.
My long friend engaged his favorites, the two younger girls, at
the game of “Now,” or hunting a stone under three piles of
tappa. For myself, I lounged on a mat with Ideea the eldest,
dallying with her grass fan, and improving my knowledge of
Tahitian.

The occasion was well adapted to my purpose, and I
began.

“Ah, Ideea, mickonaree oee?” the same as drawling out—
“By the by, Miss Ideea, do you belong to the church?”

“Yes, me mickonaree,” was the reply.

But the assertion was at once qualified by certain reservations;
so curious, that I can not forbear their relation.

“Mickonaree ena” (church member here), exclaimed she,
laying her hand upon her mouth, and a strong emphasis on the
adverb. In the same way, and with similar exclamations, she
touched her eyes and hands. This done, her whole air changed
in an instant; and she gave me to understand, by unmistakable

gestures, that in certain other respects she was not exactly a
“mickonaree.” In short, Ideea was

The explanation terminated in a burst of laughter, in which
all three sisters joined; and for fear of looking silly, the doctor
and myself. As soon as good-breeding would permit, we took
leave.

The hypocrisy in matters of religion, so apparent in all
Polynesian converts, is most injudiciously nourished in Tahiti,
by a zealous, and in many cases, a coercive superintendence
over their spiritual well-being. But it is only manifested with
respect to the common people, their superiors being exempted.

On Sunday mornings, when the prospect is rather small for a
full house in the minor churches, a parcel of fellows are actually
sent out with ratans into the highways and byways as whippers-in
of the congregation. This is a sober fact.[8]

These worthies constitute a religious police; and you always
know them by the great white diapers they wear. On week
days, they are quite as busy as on Sundays; to the great terror
of the inhabitants, going all over the island, and spying out the
wickedness thereof.

Moreover, they are the collectors of fines—levied generally
in grass mats—for obstinate non-attendance upon divine worship,
and other offenses amenable to the ecclesiastical judicature
of the missionaries.

Old Bob called these fellows “kannakippers,” a corruption,
I fancy, of our word constable.

He bore them a bitter grudge; and one day, drawing near
home, and learning that two of them were just then making a
domiciliary visit at his house, he ran behind a bush; and as
they came forth, two green bread-fruit from a hand unseen,
took them each between the shoulders. The sailors in the
Calabooza were witnesses to this, as well as several natives;
who, when the intruders were out of sight, applauded Captain
Bob's spirit in no measured terms; the ladies present vehemently
joining in. Indeed, the kannakippers have no greater
enemies than the latter. And no wonder: the impertinent
varlets, popping into their houses at all hours, are forever
prying into their peccadilloes.

Kooloo, who at times was patriotic and pensive, and mourned
the evils under which his country was groaning, frequently
inveighed against the statute, which thus authorized an utter
stranger to interfere with domestic arrangements. He himself
—quite a ladies' man—had often been annoyed thereby. He
considered the kannakippers a bore.

Besides their confounded inquisitiveness, they add insult to
injury, by making a point of dining out every day at some hut
within the limits of their jurisdiction. As for the gentleman of
the house, his meek endurance of these things is amazing. But
“good easy man,” there is nothing for him but to be as hospitable
as possible.

These gentry are indefatigable. At the dead of night prowling
round the houses, and in the daytime hunting amorous
couples in the groves. Yet in one instance, the chase completely
baffled them.

It was thus.

Several weeks previous to our arrival at the island, some
one's husband and another person's wife, having taken a mutual
fancy for each other, went out for a walk. The alarm was
raised, and with hue and cry they were pursued; but nothing

was seen of them again until the lapse of some ninety days;
when we were called out from the Calabooza to behold a great
mob inclosing the lovers, and escorting them for trial to the
village.

Their appearance was most singular. The girdle excepted,
they were quite naked; their hair was long, burned yellow at
the ends, and entangled with burs; and their bodies scratched
and scarred in all directions. It seems, that acting upon the
“love in a cottage” principle, they had gone right into the
interior; and throwing up a hut in an uninhabited valley, had
lived there, until in an unlucky stroll, they were observed and
captured.

They were subsequently condemned to make one hundred
fathoms of Broom Road—a six months' work, if not more.

Often, when seated in a house, conversing quietly with its
inmates, I have known them betray the greatest confusion at the
sudden announcement of a kannakipper's being in sight. To
be reported by one of these officials as a “Tootai Owree” (in
general, signifying a bad person or disbeliever in Christianity),
is as much dreaded as the forefinger of Titus Oates was, leveled
at an alledged papist.

But the islanders take a sly revenge upon them. Upon
entering a dwelling, the kannakippers oftentimes volunteer a
pharisaical prayer-meeting: hence, they go in secret by the
name of “Boora-Artuas,” literally, “Pray-to-Gods.”

47. CHAPTER XLVII.

Except where the employment of making “tappa” is inflicted
as a punishment, the echoes of the cloth-mallet have
long since died away in the listless valleys of Tahiti. Formerly,
the girls spent their mornings like ladies at their tambour
frames; now, they are lounged away in almost utter indolence.
True, most of them make their own garments; but this comprises
but a stitch or two; the ladies of the mission, by the by,
being entitled to the credit of teaching them to sew.

The “kihee whihenee,” or petticoat, is a mere breadth of
white cotton, or calico; loosely enveloping the person, from
the waist to the feet. Fastened simply, by a single tuck, or by
twisting the upper corners together, this garment frequently
becomes disordered; thus affording an opportunity of being
coquettishly adjusted. Over the “kihee,” they wear a sort of
gown, open in front, very loose, and as negligent as you please.
The ladies here, never dress for dinner.

But what shall be said of those horrid hats! Fancy a bunch
of straw, plaited into the shape of a coal-scuttle, and stuck,
bolt upright, on the crown; with a yard or two of red ribbon,
flying about like kite-strings. Milliners of Paris, what would
ye say to them! Though made by the natives, they are said
to have been first contrived and recommended by the missionaries'
wives; a report, which, I really trust, is nothing but
scandal.

Curious to relate, these things for the head, are esteemed

exceedingly becoming. The braiding of the straw is one of
the few employments of the higher classes; all of which, but
minister to the silliest vanity. The young girls, however,
wholly eschew the hats; leaving those dowdy old souls, their
mothers, to make frights of themselves.

As for the men, those who aspire to European garments,
seem to have no perception of the relation subsisting between
the various parts of a gentleman's costume. To the wearer of
a coat, for instance, pantaloons are by no means indispensable;
and, a bell-crowned hat and a girdle, are full dress. The
young sailor, for whom Kooloo deserted me, presented him
with a shaggy old pea-jacket; and, with this buttoned up to
his chin, under a tropical sun, he promenaded the Broom
Road, quite elated. Doctor Long Ghost, who saw him thus,
ran away with the idea, that he was under medical treatment
at the time—in the act of taking, what the quacks call, a
“sweat.”

A bachelor friend of Captain Bob rejoiced in the possession
of a full European suit; in which he often stormed the ladies'
hearts. Having a military leaning, he ornamented the coat
with a great scarlet patch on the breast; and mounted it also,
here and there, with several regimental buttons, slyly cut from
the uniform of a parcel of drunken marines, sent ashore on a
holyday from a man-of-war. But, in spite of the ornaments, the
dress was not exactly the thing. From the tightness of the
cloth across the shoulders, his elbows projected from his sides,
like an ungainly rider's; and his ponderous legs were jammed
so hard into his slim, nether garments, that the threads of
every seam showed; and, at every step, you looked for a
catastrophe.

In general, there seems to be no settled style of dressing
among the males: they wear any thing they can get; in
some cases, awkwardly modifying the fashions of their fathers,

so as to accord with their own altered views of what is
becoming.

But ridiculous as many of them now appear, in foreign
habiliments, the Tahitians presented a far different appearance
in the original national costume; which was graceful in
the extreme, modest to all but the prudish, and peculiarly
adapted to the climate. But the short kilts of dyed tappa, the
tasseled maroes, and other articles formerly worn, are, at the
present day, prohibited by law, as indecorous. For what
reason necklaces and garlands of flowers, among the women,
are also forbidden, I never could learn; but, it is said, that
they were associated, in some way, with a forgotten heathen
observance.

Many pleasant, and, seemingly, innocent sports and pastimes,
are likewise interdicted. In old times, there were several athletic
games practiced; such as wrestling, foot-racing, throwing
the javelin, and archery. In all these they greatly excelled;
and, for some, splendid festivals were instituted. Among their
everyday amusements, were dancing, tossing the football, kite-flying,
flute-playing, and singing traditional ballads; now, all
punishable offenses; though most of them have been so long
in disuse, that they are nearly forgotten.

In the same way, the “Opio,” or festive harvest-home of the
bread-fruit, has been suppressed; though, as described to me,
by Captain Bob, it seemed wholly free from any immoral
tendency. Against tattooing, of any kind, there is a severe
law.

That this abolition of their national amusements and customs,
was not willingly acquiesced in, is shown in the frequent
violation of many of the statutes inhibiting them; and, especially,
in the frequency with which their “hevars,” or dances,
are practiced in secret.

Doubtless, in thus denationalizing the Tahitians, as it were,

the missionaries were prompted by a sincere desire for good;
but the effect has been lamentable. Supplied with no amusements,
in place of those forbidden, the Tahitians, who require
more recreation than other people, have sunk into a listlessness,
or indulge in sensualities, a hundred times more pernicious,
than all the games ever celebrated in the Temple of
Tanee.

48. CHAPTER XLVIII.

As in the last few chapters, several matters connected with
the general condition of the natives have been incidentally
touched upon, it may be well not to leave so important a subject
in a state calculated to convey erroneous impressions.
Let us bestow upon it, therefore, something more than a mere
cursory glance.

But in the first place, let it be distinctly understood, that in
all I have to say upon this subject, both here and elsewhere, I
mean no harm to the missionaries nor their cause; I merely
desire to set forth things as they actually exist.

Of the results which have flowed from the intercourse of
foreigners with the Polynesians, including the attempts to civilize
and christianize them by the missionaries, Tahiti, on many
accounts, is obviously the fairest practical example. Indeed, it
may now be asserted, that the experiment of christianizing the
Tahitians, and improving their social condition by the introduction
of foreign customs, has been fully tried. The present
generation have grown up under the auspices of their religious
instructors. And although it may be urged, that the labors of
the latter have at times been more or less obstructed by unprincipled
foreigners, still, this in no wise renders Tahiti any
the less a fair illustration; for, with obstacles like these, the
missionaries in Polynesia must always, and everywhere struggle.

Nearly sixty years have elapsed since the Tahitian mission
was started; and during this period, it has received the unceasing

prayers and contributions of its friends abroad. Nor
has any enterprise of the kind called forth more devotion on
the part of those directly employed in it.

It matters not, that the earlier laborers in the work, although
strictly conscientious, were, as a class, ignorant, and, in many
cases, deplorably bigoted: such traits have, in some degree,
characterized the pioneers of all faiths. And although in zeal
and disinterestedness, the missionaries now on the island are,
perhaps, inferior to their predecessors, they have, nevertheless,
in their own way at least, labored hard to make a Christian
people of their charge.

Let us now glance at the most obvious changes wrought in
their condition.

The entire system of idolatry has been done away; together
with several barbarous practices engrafted thereon. But this
result is not so much to be ascribed to the missionaries, as to
the civilizing effects of a long and constant intercourse with
whites of all nations; to whom, for many years, Tahiti has been
one of the principal places of resort in the South Seas. At the
Sandwich Islands, the potent institution of the Taboo, together
with the entire paganism of the land, was utterly abolished by a
voluntary act of the natives, some time previous to the arrival
of the first missionaries among them.

The next most striking change in the Tahitians is this. From
the permanent residence among them of influential and respectable
foreigners, as well as from the frequent visits of ships-of-war,
recognizing the nationality of the island, its inhabitants are no
longer deemed fit subjects for the atrocities practiced upon
mere savages; and hence, secure from retaliation, vessels of all
kinds now enter their harbors with perfect safety.

But let us consider what results are directly ascribable to the
missionaries alone.

In all cases, they have striven hard to mitigate the evils resulting

from the commerce with the whites in general. Such
attempts, however, have been rather injudicious, and often
ineffectual: in truth, a barrier almost insurmountable is presented
in the dispositions of the people themselves. Still, in
this respect, the morality of the islanders is, upon the whole,
improved by the presence of the missionaries.

But the greatest achievement of the latter, and one which in
itself is most hopeful and gratifying is, that they have translated
the entire Bible into the language of the island; and I have
myself known several who were able to read it with facility.
They have also established churches, and schools for both children
and adults; the latter, I regret to say, are now much
neglected; which must be ascribed, in a great measure, to the
disorders growing out of the proceedings of the French.

It were unnecessary here, to enter diffusely into matters connected
with the internal government of the Tahitian churches
and schools. Nor, upon this head, is my information copious
enough to warrant me in presenting details. But we do not
need them. We are merely considering general results, as
made apparent in the moral and religious condition of the
island at large.

Upon a subject like this, however, it would be altogether too
assuming for a single individual to decide; and so, in place of
my own random observations, which may be found elsewhere, I
will here present those of several known authors, made under
various circumstances, at different periods, and down to a comparative
late date. A few very brief extracts will enable the
reader to mark for himself what progressive improvement, if
any, has taken place.

Nor must it be overlooked, that of these authorities, the
two first in order are largely quoted by the Right Reverend
M. Russell, in a work composed for the express purpose of
imparting information on the subject of Christian missions

in Polynesia. And he frankly acknowledges, moreover, that
they are such as “can not fail to have great weight with the
public.”[9]

After alluding to the manifold evils entailed upon the natives
by foreigners, and their singularly inert condition; and after
somewhat too severely denouncing the undeniable errors of the
mission, Kotzebue, the Russian navigator, says, “A religion
like this, which forbids every innocent pleasure, and cramps or
annihilates every mental power, is a libel on the divine founder
of Christianity. It is true, that the religion of the missionaries
has, with a great deal of evil, effected some good. It has restrained
the vices of theft and incontinence; but it has given
birth to ignorance, hypocrisy, and a hatred of all other modes
of faith, which was once foreign to the open and benevolent
character of the Tahitian.”[10]

Captain Beechy says, that while at Tahiti, he saw scenes
“which must have convinced the greatest skeptic of the thoroughly
immoral condition of the people, and which would force
him to conclude, as Turnbull[11] did, many years previous, that
their intercourse with the Europeans had tended to debase,
rather than exalt their condition.”[12]

About the year 1834, Daniel Wheeler, an honest-hearted
Quaker, prompted by motives of the purest philanthropy, visited,
in a vessel of his own, most of the missionary settlements

in the South Seas. He remained some time at Tahiti; receiving
the hospitalities of the missionaries there, and, from time to
time, exhorting the natives.

After bewailing their social condition, he frankly says of their
religious state, “Certainly, appearances are unpromising; and
however unwilling to adopt such a conclusion, there is reason
to apprehend, that Christian principle is a great rarity.”[13]

Such, then, is the testimony of good and unbiased men, who
have been upon the spot; but, how comes it to differ so widely
from impressions of others at home? Simply thus: instead of
estimating the result of missionary labors by the number of
heathens who have actually been made to understand and practice
(in some measure, at least) the precepts of Christianity,
this result has been unwarrantably inferred from the number
of those, who, without any understanding of these things, have
in any way been induced to abandon idolatry and conform to
certain outward observances.

By authority of some kind or other, exerted upon the natives
through their chiefs, and prompted by the hope of some worldly
benefit to the latter, and not by appeals to the reason, have conversions
in Polynesia been in most cases brought about.

Even in one or two instances—so often held up as wonderful
examples of divine power—where the natives have
impulsively burned their idols, and rushed to the waters of
baptism, the very suddenness of the change has but indicated
its unsoundness. Williams, the martyr of Erromanga, relates
an instance where the inhabitants of an island professing Christianity,
voluntarily assembled, and solemnly revived all their
heathen customs.

All the world over, facts are more eloquent than words; and
the following will show in what estimation the missionaries

themselves hold the present state of Christianity and morals
among the converted Polynesians.

On the island of Imeeo (attached to the Tahitian mission),
is a seminary under the charge of the Rev. Mr. Simpson and
wife, for the education of the children of the missionaries, exclusively.
Sent home—in many cases, at a very early age—to
finish their education, the pupils here are taught nothing but the
rudiments of knowledge; nothing more than may be learned in
the native schools. Notwithstanding this, the two races are
kept as far as possible from associating; the avowed reason
being, to preserve the young whites from moral contamination.
The better to insure this end, every effort is made to prevent
them from acquiring the native language.

They went even further at the Sandwich Islands; where, a
few years ago, a play-ground for the children of the missionaries
was inclosed with a fence many feet high, the more
effectually to exclude the wicked little Hawaiians.

And yet, strange as it may seem, the depravity among the
Polynesians, which renders precautions like these necessary,
was in a measure unknown before their intercourse with the
whites. The excellent Captain Wilson, who took the first missionaries
out to Tahiti, affirms, that the people of that island
had, in many things, “more refined ideas of decency than ourselves.”[14]
Vancouver, also, has some noteworthy ideas on this
subject, respecting the Sandwich Islanders.[15]

That the immorality alluded to is continually increasing, is
plainly shown in the numerous, severe, and perpetually violated
laws against licentiousness of all kinds, in both groups of
islands.

It is hardly to be expected, that the missionaries would send
home accounts of this state of things. Hence, Captain Beechy,

in alluding to the “Polynesian Researches” of Ellis, says, that
the author has impressed his readers with a far more elevated
idea of the moral condition of the Tahitians, and the degree of
civilization to which they have attained, than they deserve; or,
at least, than the facts which came under his observation, authorized.
He then goes on to say, that in his intercourse with the
islanders, “they had no fear of him, and consequently acted
from the impulse of their natural feelings; so that he was the
better enabled to obtain a correct knowledge of their real disposition
and habits.[16]

From my own familiar intercourse with the natives, this last
reflection still more forcibly applies to myself.

49. CHAPTER XLIX.

We have glanced at their moral and religious condition;
let us see how it is with them socially, and in other respects.

It has been said, that the only way to civilize a people, is to
form in them habits of industry. Judged by this principle, the
Tahitians are less civilized now than formerly. True, their
constitutional indolence is excessive; but surely, if the spirit
of Christianity is among them, so unchristian a vice ought to
be, at least, partially remedied. But the reverse is the fact.
Instead of acquiring new occupations, old ones have been discontinued.

As previously remarked, the manufacture of tappa is nearly
obsolete in many parts of the island. So, too, with that of the
native tools and domestic utensils; very few of which are now
fabricated, since the superiority of European wares has been
made so evident.

This, however, would be all very well, were the natives to
apply themselves to such occupations as would enable them to
supply the few articles they need. But they are far from doing
so; and the majority being unable to obtain European substitutes,
for many things before made by themselves, the inevitable
consequence is seen in the present wretched and
destitute mode of life among the common people. To me, so
recently from a primitive valley of the Marquesas, the aspect
of most of the dwellings of the poorer Tahitians, and their
general habits, seemed any thing but tidy; nor could I avoid a

comparison, immeasurably to the disadvantage of these partially
civilized islanders.

In Tahiti, the people have nothing to do; and idleness,
everywhere, is the parent of vice. “There is scarcely any
thing,” says the good old Quaker Wheeler, “so striking, or
pitiable, as their aimless, nerveless mode of spending life.”

Attempts have repeatedly been made, to rouse them from
their sluggishness; but in vain. Several years ago, the cultivation
of cotton was introduced; and, with their usual love of
novelty, they went to work with great alacrity; but the interest
excited quickly subsided, and now, not a pound of the article
is raised.

About the same time, machinery for weaving was sent out
from London; and a factory was started at Afrehitoo, in
Imeeo. The whiz of the wheels and spindles brought in
volunteers from all quarters, who deemed it a privilege to be
admitted to work: yet, in six months, not a boy could be
hired; and the machinery was knocked down, and packed
off to Sydney.

It was the same way with the cultivation of the sugar-cane,
a plant indigenous to the island; peculiarly fitted to the soil
and climate, and of so excellent a quality, that Bligh took slips
of it to the West Indies. All the plantations went on famously,
for a while; the natives swarming in the fields, like ants, and
making a prodigious stir. What few plantations now remain,
are owned and worked by whites; who would rather pay a
drunken sailor eighteen or twenty Spanish dollars a month,
than hire a sober native for his “fish and taro.”

It is well worthy remark here, that every evidence of civilization
among the South Sea Islands, directly pertains to
foreigners; though the fact of such evidence existing at all,
is usually urged as a proof of the elevated condition of the
natives. Thus, at Honolulu, the capital of the Sandwich

Islands, there are fine dwelling-houses, several hotels, and
barber-shops, ay, even billiard-rooms; but all these are owned
and used, be it observed, by whites. There are tailors, and
blacksmiths, and carpenters also; but not one of them is a native.

The fact is, that the mechanical and agricultural employments
of civilized life, require a kind of exertion altogether
too steady and sustained, to agree with an indolent people
like the Polynesians. Calculated for a state of nature, in a
climate providentially adapted to it, they are unfit for any
other. Nay, as a race, they can not otherwise long exist.

The following statement speaks for itself.

About the year 1777, Captain Cook estimated the population
of Tahiti at about two hundred thousand.[17] By a regular
census, taken some four or five years ago, it was found to
be only nine thousand.[18] This amazing decrease, not only
shows the malignancy of the evils necessary to produce
it; but, from the fact, the inference unavoidably follows, that
all the wars, child murders, and other depopulating causes,
alledged to have existed in former times, were nothing in comparison
to them.

These evils, of course, are solely of foreign origin. To say
nothing of the effects of drunkenness, the occasional inroads of
the small-pox, and other things, which might be mentioned, it
is sufficient to allude to a virulent disease, which now taints
the blood of at least two thirds of the common people of the
island; and, in some form or other, is transmitted from father
to son.

Their first horror and consternation at the earlier ravages of
this scourge, were pitiable in the extreme. The very name
bestowed upon it, is a combination of all that is horrid and unmentionable
to a civilized being.

Distracted with their sufferings, they brought forth their sick
before the missionaries, when they were preaching, and cried
out, “Lies, lies! you tell us of salvation; and, behold, we are
dying. We want no other salvation, than to live in this world.
Where are there any saved through your speech? Pomaree
is dead; and we are all dying with your cursed diseases.
When will you give over?”

At present, the virulence of the disorder, in individual cases,
has somewhat abated; but the poison is only the more widely
diffused.

“How dreadful and appalling,” breaks forth old Wheeler,
“the consideration, that the intercourse of distant nations
should have entailed upon these poor, untutored islanders, a
curse unprecedented, and unheard of, in the annals of history.”

In view of these things, who can remain blind to the fact,
that, so far as mere temporal felicity is concerned, the Tahitians
are far worse off now, than formerly; and although their
circumstances, upon the whole, are bettered by the presence
of the missionaries, the benefits conferred by the latter become
utterly insignificant, when confronted with the vast preponderance
of evil brought about by other means.

Their prospects are hopeless. Nor can the most devoted
efforts, now exempt them from furnishing a marked illustration
of a principle, which history has always exemplified. Years
ago brought to a stand, where all that is corrupt in barbarism
and civilization unite, to the exclusion of the virtues of either
state; like other uncivilized beings, brought into contact with
Europeans, they must here remain stationary until utterly
extinct.

The islanders themselves, are mournfully watching their
doom. Several years since, Pomaree II. said to Tyreman and
Bennet, the deputies of the London Missionary Society, “You
have come to see me at a very bad time. Your ancestors
came in the time of men, when Tahiti was inhabited: you are
come to behold just the remnant of my people.”

Of like import, was the prediction of Teearmoar, the high-priest
of Paree; who lived over a hundred years ago. I have
frequently heard it chanted, in a low, sad tone, by aged Tahitians:—

50. CHAPTER L.

We will now return to the narrative.

The day before the Julia sailed, Dr. Johnson paid his last
call. He was not quite so bland as usual. All he wanted was
the men's names to a paper, certifying to their having received
from him sundry medicaments, therein mentioned. This
voucher, endorsed by Captain Guy, secured his pay. But he
would not have obtained for it the sailors' signs manual, had
either the doctor or myself been present at the time.

Now, my long friend wasted no love upon Johnson; but for
reasons of his own, hated him heartily: all the same thing in
one sense; for either passion argues an object deserving thereof.
And so, to be hated cordially, is only a left-handed compliment;
which shows how foolish it is to be bitter against any one.

For my own part, I merely felt a cool, purely incidental, and
passive contempt for Johnson, as a selfish, mercenary apothecary;
and hence, I often remonstrated with Long Ghost, when
he flew out against him, and heaped upon him all manner of
scurrilous epithets. In his professional brother's presence,
however, he never acted thus; maintaining an amiable exterior,
to help along the jokes which were played.

I am now going to tell another story, in which my long friend
figures with the physician: I do not wish to bring one or the
other of them too often upon the stage; but as the thing actually
happened, I must relate it.

A few days after Johnson presented his bill, as above mentioned,

the doctor expressed to me his regret, that although he
(Johnson) had apparently been played off for our entertainment,
yet, nevertheless, he had made money out of the transaction.
And I wonder, added the doctor, if that now, he can not expect
to receive any further pay, he could be induced to call again.

By a curious coincidence, not five minutes after making this
observation, Doctor Long Ghost himself fell down in an unaccountable
fit; and without asking any body's leave, Captain
Bob, who was by, at once dispatched a boy, hot foot, for Johnson.

Meanwhile, we carried him into the Calabooza; and the
natives, who assembled in numbers, suggested various modes of
treatment. One rather energetic practitioner was for holding
the patient by the shoulders, while somebody tugged at his feet.
This resuscitatory operation was called the “Potata;” but thinking
our long comrade sufficiently lengthy without additional
stretching, we declined potataing him.

Presently the physician was spied coming along the Broom
Road at a great rate, and so absorbed in the business of locomotion,
that he heeded not the imprudence of being in a hurry
in a tropical climate. He was in a profuse perspiration; which
must have been owing to the warmth of his feelings, notwithstanding
we had supposed him a man of no heart. But his
benevolent haste upon this occasion was subsequently accounted
for: it merely arose from professional curiosity, to behold a
case most unusual in his Polynesian practice. Now, under
certain circumstances, sailors, generally so frolicsome, are exceedingly
particular in having every thing conducted with the
strictest propriety. Accordingly, they deputed me, as his intimate
friend, to sit at Long Ghost's head, so as to be ready to
officiate as “spokesman;” and answer all questions propounded
the rest to keep silent.

“What's the matter?” exclaimed Johnson, out of breath, and

bursting into the Calabooza: “how did it happen?—speak
quick!” and he looked at Long Ghost.

I told him how the fit came on.

“Singular”—he observed—“very: good enough pulse;” and
he let go of it, and placed his hand upon the heart.

“But what's all that frothing at the mouth?” he continued;
“and bless me! look at the abdomen!”

The region thus denominated, exhibited the most unaccountable
symptoms. A low, rumbling sound was heard; and a sort
of undulation was discernible beneath the thin cotton frock.

“Colic, sir?” suggested a by-stander.

“Colic be hanged!” shouted the physician; “who ever heard
of any body in a trance of the colic?”

During this, the patient lay upon his back, stark and straight,
giving no signs of life except those above mentioned.

“I'll bleed him!” cried Johnson at last—“run for a calabash,
one of you!”

“Life ho!” here sung out Navy Bob, as if he had just spied
a sail.

“What under the sun's the matter with him!” cried the physician,
starting at the appearance of the mouth, which had
jerked to one side, and there remained fixed.

“Pr'aps it's St. Witus's hornpipe,” suggested Bob.

“Hold the calabash!”—and the lancet was out in a moment.

But before the deed could be done, the face became natural;—
a sigh was heaved;—the eyelids quivered, opened, closed; and
Long Ghost, twitching all over, rolled on his side, and breathed
audibly. By degrees, he became sufficiently recovered to speak.

After trying to get something coherent out of him, Johnson
withdrew; evidently disappointed in the scientific interest of
the case. Soon after his departure, the doctor sat up; and upon
being asked what upon earth ailed him, shook his head mysteriously.
He then deplored the hardship of being an invalid in

such a place, where there was not the slightest provision for
his comfort. This awakened the compassion of our good old
keeper, who offered to send him to a place where he would be
better cared for. Long Ghost acquiesced; and being at once
mounted upon the shoulders of four of Captain Bob's men, was
marched off in state, like the Grand Lama of Thibet.

Now, I do not pretend to account for his remarkable swoon;
but his reason for suffering himself to be thus removed from the
Calabooza, was strongly suspected to be nothing more than a
desire to insure more regularity in his dinner-hour; hoping that
the benevolent native to whom he was going, would set a good
table.

The next morning, we were all envying his fortune; when of
a sudden, he bolted in upon us, looking decidedly out of humor.

“Hang it!” he cried, “I'm worse off than ever; let me have
some breakfast!” We lowered our slender bag of ship-stores
from a rafter, and handed him a biscuit. While this was being
munched, he went on and told us his story.

“After leaving here, they trotted me back into a valley, and
left me in a hut, where an old woman lived by herself. This
must be the nurse, thought I; and so I asked her to kill a pig,
and bake it; for I felt my appetite returning. `Ita! ita!—
oee mattee—mattee nuee'—(no, no; you too sick.) `The devil
mattee ye,' said I—`give me something to eat!' But nothing
could be had. Night coming on, I had to stay. Creeping into
a corner, I tried to sleep; but it was to no purpose;—the old
crone must have had the quinsy, or something else; and she
kept up such a wheezing and choking, that at last I sprang up,
and groped after her; but she hobbled away like a goblin; and
that was the last of her. As soon as the sun rose, I made the
best of my way back; and here I am.”

He never left us more, nor ever had a second fit.

51. CHAPTER LI.

About three weeks after the Julia's sailing, our condition
began to be a little precarious. We were without any regular
supply of food; the arrival of ships was growing less frequent;
and, what was worse yet, all the natives but good old Captain
Bob, began to tire of us. Nor was this to be wondered at; we
were obliged to live upon their benevolence, when they had
little enough for themselves. Beside, we were sometimes driven
to acts of marauding: such as kidnapping pigs, and cooking
them in the groves; at which their proprietors were by no
means pleased.

In this state of affairs, we determined to march off to the consul
in a body; and, as he had brought us to these straits, demand
an adequate maintenance.

On the point of starting, Captain Bob's men raised the most
outrageous cries, and tried to prevent us. Though hitherto we
had strolled about wherever we pleased, this grand conjunction
of our whole force upon one particular expedition, seemed to
alarm them. But we assured them, that we were not going to
assault the village; and so, after a good deal of gibberish, they
permitted us to leave.

We went straight to the Pritchard residence, where the consul
dwelt. This house—to which I have before referred—is
quite commodious. It has a wide verandah, glazed windows,
and other appurtenances of a civilized mansion. Upon the lawn
in front are palm-trees standing erect here and there, like sentinels.

The Consular Office, a small building by itself, is inclosed
by the same picket which fences in the lawn.

We found the office closed; but, in the verandah of the
dwelling-house, was a lady performing a tonsorial operation on
the head of a prim-looking, elderly European, in a low, white
cravat;—the most domestic little scene I had witnessed since
leaving home. Bent upon an interview with Wilson, the sailors
now deputed the doctor to step forward as a polite inquirer
after his health.

The pair stared very hard as he advanced; but no ways disconcerted,
he saluted them gravely, and inquired for the consul.

Upon being informed that he had gone down to the beach,
we proceeded in that direction; and soon met a native, who told
us, that apprised of our vicinity, Wilson was keeping out of the
way. We resolved to meet him; and passing through the village,
he suddenly came walking toward us; having apparently
made up his mind that any attempt to elude us would be useless.

“What do you want of me, you rascals?” he cried—a greeting
which provoked a retort in no measured terms. At this
juncture, the natives began to crowd round, and several foreigners
strolled along. Caught in the very act of speaking to
such disreputable acquaintances, Wilson now fidgeted, and
moved rapidly toward his office; the men following. Turning
upon them incensed, he bade them be off—he would have nothing
more to say to us; and then, hurriedly addressing Captain
Bob in Tahitian, he hastened on, and never stopped till the
postern of Pritchard's wicket was closed behind him.

Our good old keeper was now highly excited, bustling about
in his huge petticoats, and conjuring us to return to the Calabooza.
After a little debate, we acquiesced.

This interview was decisive. Sensible that none of the
charges brought against us would stand, yet unwilling formally
to withdraw them, the consul now wished to get rid of us altogether;

but without being suspected of encouraging our escape.
Thus only could we account for his conduct.

Some of the party, however, with a devotion to principle
truly heroic, swore they would never leave him, happen what
might. For my own part, I began to long for a change; and
as there seemed to be no getting away in a ship, I resolved to
hit upon some other expedient. But first, I cast about for a
comrade; and of course the long doctor was chosen. We at
once laid our heads together; and for the present, resolved to
disclose nothing to the rest.

A few days previous, I had fallen in with a couple of Yankee
lads, twins, who, originally deserting their ship at Fanning's
Island (an uninhabited spot, but exceedingly prolific in fruit of
all kinds), had, after a long residence there, roved about among
the Society group. They were last from Imeeo—the island
immediately adjoining—where they had been in the employ of
two foreigners, who had recently started a plantation there.
These persons, they said, had charged them to send over from
Papeetee, if they could, two white men for field-laborers.

Now, all but the prospect of digging and delving, suited us
exactly; but the opportunity for leaving the island was not to
be slighted; and so we held ourselves in readiness to return
with the planters; who, in a day or two, were expected to visit
Papeetee in their boat.

At the interview which ensued, we were introduced to them
as Peter and Paul; and they agreed to give Peter and Paul
fifteen silver dollars a month, promising something more, should
we remain with them permanently. What they wanted, was
men who would stay. To elude the natives—many of whom
not exactly understanding our relations with the consul, might
arrest us, were they to see us departing—the coming midnight
was appointed for that purpose.

When the hour drew nigh, we disclosed our intention to the

rest. Some upbraided us for deserting them; others applauded,
and said, that on the first opportunity they would follow our
example. At last, we bade them farewell. And there would
now be a serene sadness in thinking over the scene—since we
never saw them again—had not all been dashed by M'Gee's
picking the doctor's pocket of a jackknife, in the very act of
embracing him.

We stole down to the beach, where, under the shadow of a
grove, the boat was waiting. After some delay, we shipped
the oars, and pulling outside of the reef, set the sail; and with
a fair wind, glided away for Imeeo.

It was a pleasant trip. The moon was up—the air, warm—
the waves, musical—and all above was the tropical night, one
purple vault hung round with soft, trembling stars.

The channel is some five leagues wide. On one hand, you
have the three great peaks of Tahiti lording it over ranges of
mountains and valleys; and on the other, the equally romantic
elevations of Imeeo, high above which a lone peak, called by
our companions, “the Marling-spike,” shot up its verdant spire.

The planters were quite sociable. They had been sea-faring
men, and this, of course, was a bond between us. To strengthen
it, a flask of wine was produced, one of several which had been
procured in person from the French admiral's steward; for
whom the planters, when on a former visit to Papeetee, had
done a good turn, by introducing the amorous Frenchman to
the ladies ashore. Besides this, they had a calabash filled with
wild boar's meat, baked yams, bread-fruit, and Tombez potatoes.
Pipes and tobacco also were produced; and while regaling
ourselves, plenty of stories were told about the neighboring
islands.

At last we heard the roar of the Imeeo reef; and gliding
through a break, floated over the expanse within, which was
smooth as a young girl's brow, and beached the boat.

52. CHAPTER LII.

We went up through groves to an open space, where we
heard voices, and a light was seen glimmering from out a
bamboo dwelling. It was the planters' retreat; and in their absence,
several girls were keeping house, assisted by an old
native, who, wrapped up in tappa, lay in the corner, smoking.

A hasty meal was prepared, and after it we essayed a nap;
but, alas! a plague, little anticipated, prevented. Unknown
in Tahiti, the musquitoes here fairly eddied round us. But
more of them anon.

We were up betimes, and strolled out to view the country.
We were in the valley of Martair; shut in, on both sides, by
lofty hills. Here and there, were steep cliffs, gay with flowering
shrubs, or hung with pendulous vines, swinging blossoms
in the air. Of considerable width at the sea, the vale contracts
as it runs inland; terminating, at the distance of several miles,
in a range of the most grotesque elevations, which seem embattled
with turrets and towers, grown over with verdure, and
waving with trees. The valley itself, is a wilderness of woodland;
with links of streams flashing through, and narrow pathways,
fairly tunneled through masses of foliage.

All alone, in this wild place, was the abode of the planters;
the only one back from the beach—their sole neighbors, the
few fishermen and their families, dwelling in a small grove of
cocoa-nut trees, whose roots were washed by the sea.

The cleared tract which they occupied, comprised some

thirty acres, level as a prairie, part of which was under cultivation;
the whole being fenced in, by a stout palisade of trunks
and boughs of trees, staked firmly in the ground. This was
necessary, as a defense against the wild cattle and hogs over-running
the island.

Thus far, Tombez potatoes[19] were the principal crop raised;
a ready sale for them being obtained among the shipping
touching at Papeetee. There was a small patch of the taro,
or Indian turnip, also; another of yams; and, in one corner, a
thrifty growth of the sugar-cane, just ripening.

On the side of the inclosure, next the sea, was the house;
newly built of bamboos, in the native style. The furniture
consisted of a couple of sea-chests, an old box, a few cooking
utensils, and agricultural tools; together with three fowling-pieces,
hanging from a rafter; and two enormous hammocks,
swinging in opposite corners, and composed of dried bullocks'
hides, stretched out with poles.

The whole plantation was shut in by a dense forest; and,
close by the house, a dwarfed “Aoa,” or species of banian-tree,
had purposely been left twisting over the palisade, in the
most grotesque manner, and thus made a pleasant shade. The
branches of this curious tree afforded low perches, upon which
the natives frequently squatted, after the fashion of their race,
and smoked and gossiped by the hour.

We had a good breakfast of fish—speared by the natives,
before sunrise, on the reef—pudding of Indian turnip, fried
bananas, and roasted bread-fruit.

During the repast, our new friends were quite sociable and
communicative. It seems that, like nearly all uneducated

foreigners, residing in Polynesia, they had, some time previous,
deserted from a ship; and, having heard a good deal
about the money to be made by raising supplies for whaling-vessels,
they determined upon embarking in the business.
Strolling about, with this intention, they, at last, came to Martair;
and, thinking the soil would suit, set themselves to work.
They began, by finding out the owner of the particular spot
coveted, and then making a “tayo” of him.

He turned out to be Tonoi, the chief of the fishermen; who,
one day, when exhilarated with brandy, tore his meager tappa
from his loins, and gave me to know, that he was allied by
blood with Pomaree herself; and that his mother came from the
illustrious race of pontiffs, who, in old times, swayed their
bamboo crosier over all the pagans of Imeeo. A regal, and
right reverend lineage! But, at the time I speak of, the dusky
noble was in decayed circumstances, and therefore, by no means
unwilling to alienate a few useless acres. As an equivalent, he
received from the strangers two or three rheumatic old muskets,
several red woolen shirts, and a promise to be provided for in
his old age: he was always to find a home with the planters.

Desirous of living on the cozy footing of a father-in-law, he
frankly offered his two daughters for wives; but as such, they
were politely declined; the adventurers, though not averse to
courting, being unwilling to entangle themselves in a matrimonial
alliance, however splendid in point of family.

Tonoi's men, the fishermen of the grove, were a sad set.
Secluded, in a great measure, from the ministrations of the missionaries,
they gave themselves up to all manner of lazy wickedness.
Strolling among the trees of a morning, you came upon
them napping on the shady side of a canoe hauled up among
the bushes; lying under a tree smoking; or, more frequently
still, gambling with pebbles; though, a little tobacco excepted,
what they gambled for at their outlandish games, it would be

hard to tell. Other idle diversions they had also, in which they
seemed to take great delight. As for fishing, it employed but
a small part of their time. Upon the whole, they were a merry,
indigent, godless race.

Tonoi, the old sinner, leaning against the fallen trunk of a
cocoa-nut tree, invariably squandered his mornings at pebbles;
a gray-headed rook of a native regularly plucking him of every
other stick of tobacco obtained from his friends, the planters.
Toward afternoon, he strolled back to their abode; where he
tarried till the next morning, smoking and snoozing, and, at
times, prating about the hapless fortunes of the House of Tonoi.
But like any other easy-going old dotard, he seemed for the
most part perfectly content with cheerful board and lodging.

On the whole, the valley of Martair was the quietest place
imaginable. Could the musquitoes be induced to emigrate, one
might spend the month of August there quite pleasantly. But
this was not the case with the luckless Long Ghost and myself;
as will presently be seen.

53. CHAPTER LIII.

The planters were both whole-souled fellows; but in other
respects, as unlike as possible.

One was a tall, robust Yankee, born in the backwoods of
Maine, sallow, and with a long face;—the other was a short little
Cockney, who had first clapped his eyes on the Monument.

The voice of Zeke, the Yankee, had a twang like a cracked
viol; and Shorty (as his comrade called him), clipped the aspirate
from every word beginning with one. The latter, though
not the tallest man in the world, was a good-looking young fellow,
of twenty-five. His cheeks were dyed with the fine Saxon
red, burned deeper from his roving life; his blue eye opened
well, and a profusion of fair hair curled over a well shaped head.

But Zeke was no beauty. A strong, ugly man, he was well
adapted for manual labor; and that was all. His eyes were
made to see with, and not for ogling. Compared with the
Cockney, he was grave, and rather taciturn; but there was a
deal of good old humor bottled up in him, after all. For the
rest, he was frank, good-hearted, shrewd, and resolute; and
like Shorty, quite illiterate.

Though a curious conjunction, the pair got along together
famously. But, as no two men were ever united in any enterprise,
without one getting the upper hand of the other; so, in
most matters, Zeke had his own way. Shorty, too, had imbibed
from him a spirit of invincible industry; and Heaven only knows
what ideas of making a fortune on their plantation.

We were much concerned at this; for the prospect of their
setting us in their own persons an example of downright hard
labor, was any thing but agreeable. But it was now too late to
repent what we had done.

The first day—thank fortune—we did nothing. Having
treated us as guests thus far, they no doubt thought it would be
wanting in delicacy, to set us to work before the compliments
of the occasion were well over. The next morning, however,
they both looked business-like, and we were put to.

“Wall, b'ys” (boys), said Zeke, knocking the ashes out of
his pipe, after breakfast—“we must get at it. Shorty, give
Peter there (the doctor), the big hoe, and Paul the other, and
let's be off.” Going to a corner, Shorty brought forth three of
the implements; and distributing them impartially, trudged on
after his partner, who took the lead with something in the shape
of an axe.

For a moment left alone in the house, we looked at each
other, quaking. We were each equipped with a great, clumsy
piece of a tree, armed at one end with a heavy, flat mass of iron.

The cutlery part—especially adapted to a primitive soil—
was an importation from Sydney; the handles must have been
of domestic manufacture. “Hoes”—so called—we had heard
of, and seen; but they were harmless, in comparison with the
tools in our hands.

“What's to be done with them?” inquired I of Peter.

“Lift them up and down,” he replied; “or put them in motion,
some way or other. Paul, we are in a scrape—but hark!
they are calling;” and shouldering the hoes, off we marched.

Our destination was the farther side of the plantation, where
the ground, cleared in part, had not yet been broken up; but
they were now setting about it. Upon halting, I asked why a
plough was not used: some of the young wild steers might be
caught, and trained for draught.

Zeke replied, that, for such a purpose, no cattle, to his
knowledge, had ever been used in any part of Polynesia. As
for the soil of Martair, so obstructed was it with roots, crossing
and recrossing each other at all points, that no kind of a
plough could be used to advantage. The heavy Sydney hoes
were the only thing for such land.

Our work was now before us; but, previous to commencing
operations, I endeavored to engage the Yankee in a little
further friendly chat, concerning the nature of virgin soils in
general, and that of the valley of Martair in particular. So
masterly a stratagem made Long Ghost brighten up; and he
stood by ready to join in. But what our friend had to say
about agriculture, all referred to the particular part of his
plantation upon which we stood; and having communicated
enough on this head, to enable us to set to work to the best
advantage, he fell to, himself; and Shorty, who had been looking
on, followed suit.

The surface, here and there, presented closely amputated
branches of what had once been a dense thicket. They
seemed purposely left projecting, as if to furnish a handle,
whereby to drag out the roots beneath. After loosening the
hard soil, by dint of much thumping and pounding, the Yankee
jerked one of the roots, this way and that, twisting it round
and round, and then tugging at it horizontally.

“Come! lend us a hand!” he cried, at last; and, running
up, we all four strained away in concert. The tough obstacle
convulsed the surface with throes and spasms; but stuck fast,
notwithstanding.

“Dumn it!” cried Zeke, “we'll have to get a rope; run to
the house, Shorty, and fetch one.”

The end of this being attached, we took plenty of room, and
strained away once more.

“Give us a song, Shorty,” said the doctor; who was rather

sociable, on a short acquaintance. Where the work to be
accomplished is any way difficult, this mode of enlivening toil
is quite efficacious among sailors. So, willing to make every
thing as cheerful as possible, Shorty struck up, “Were you
ever in Dumbarton?” a marvelously inspiring, but somewhat
indecorous windlass chorus.

At last, the Yankee cast a damper on his enthusiasm, by
exclaiming, in a pet, “Oh! dumn your singing! keep quiet,
and pull away!” This we now did, in the most uninteresting
silence; until, with a jerk, that made every elbow hum, the
root dragged out; and, most inelegantly, we all landed upon
the ground. The doctor, quite exhausted, stayed there; and,
deluded into believing, that, after so doughty a performance, we
would be allowed a cessation of toil, took off his hat, and
fanned himself.

“Rayther a hard customer, that, Peter,” observed the
Yankee, going up to him: “but it's no use for any on 'em to
hang back; for, I'm dumned if they haint got to come out,
whether or no. Hurrah! let's get at it agin!”

“Mercy!” ejaculated the doctor, rising slowly, and turning
round. “He'll be the death of us!”

Falling to with our hoes again, we worked singly, or together,
as occasion required, until “Nooning Time” came.

The period, so called by the planters, embraced about three
hours in the middle of the day; during which it was so excessively
hot, in this still, brooding valley, shut out from the
Trades, and only open toward the leeward side of the island,
that labor in the sun was out of the question. To use a hyperbolical
phrase of Shorty's, “It was 'ot enough to melt the nose
h'off a brass monkey.”

Returning to the house, Shorty, assisted by old Tonoi,
cooked the dinner; and, after we had all partaken thereof,
both the Cockney and Zeke threw themselves into one of the

hammocks, inviting us to occupy the other. Thinking it no
bad idea, we did so; and, after skirmishing with the musquitoes,
managed to fall into a doze. As for the planters, more
accustomed to “Nooning,” they, at once, presented a nuptial
back to each other; and were soon snoring away at a great
rate. Tonoi snoozed on a mat, in one corner.

At last, we were roused by Zeke's crying out, “Up! b'ys;
up! rise, and shine; time to get at it agin!”

Looking at the doctor, I perceived, very plainly, that he had
decided upon something.

In a languid voice, he told Zeke, that he was not very well:
indeed, that he had not been himself for some time past;
though a little rest, no doubt, would recruit him. The Yankee,
thinking, from this, that our valuable services might be lost to
him altogether, were he too hard upon us at the outset, at once
begged us both to consult our own feelings, and not exert ourselves
for the present, unless we felt like it. Then—without
recognizing the fact, that my comrade claimed to be actually
unwell—he simply suggested, that, since he was so tired, he
had better, perhaps, swing in his hammock for the rest of the
day. If agreeable, however, I myself, might accompany him
upon a little bullock hunting excursion, in the neighboring
hills. In this proposition, I gladly acquiesced; though Peter,
who was a great sportsman, put on a long face. The muskets
and ammunition were forthwith got down from overhead; and,
every thing being then ready, Zeke cried out, “Tonoi! come;
aramai! (get up) we want you for pilot. Shorty, my lad, look
arter things, you know; and, if you likes, why, there's them
roots in the field yonder.”

Having thus arranged his domestic affairs to please
himself, though little to Shorty's satisfaction, I thought;
he slung his powder-horn over his shoulder, and we started.
Tonoi was, at once, sent on in advance; and, leaving

the plantation, he struck into a path, which led toward the
mountains.

After hurrying through the thickets for some time, we came
out into the sunlight, in an open glade, just under the shadow
of the hills. Here, Zeke pointed aloft, to a beetling crag, far
distant; where a bullock, with horns thrown back, stood like a
statue.

54. CHAPTER LIV.

Before we proceed further, a word or two concerning these
wild cattle, and the way they came on the island.

Some fifty years ago, Vancouver left several bullocks, sheep,
and goats, at various places in the Society group. He instructed
the natives to look after the animals carefully; and by no
means to slaughter any, until a considerable stock had accumulated.

The sheep must have died off; for I never saw a solitary
fleece in any part of Polynesia. The pair left, were an ill assorted
couple, perhaps; separated in disgust, and died without issue.

As for the goats, occasionally you come across a black, misanthropic
ram, nibbling the scant herbage of some height inaccessible
to man, in preference to the sweet grasses of the valley
below. The goats are not very numerous.

The bullocks, coming of a prolific ancestry, are a hearty
set, racing over the island of Imeeo in considerable numbers;
though in Tahiti, but few of them are seen. At the former
place, the original pair must have scampered off to the interior,
since it is now so thickly populated by their wild progeny.
The herds are the private property of Queen Pomaree; from
whom the planters had obtained permission to shoot for their
own use, as many as they pleased.

The natives stand in great awe of these cattle; and for this
reason, are excessively timid in crossing the island, preferring
rather to sail round to an opposite village in their canoes.

Tonoi abounded in bullock stories; most of which, by the
by, had a spice of the marvelous. The following is one of
these.

Once upon a time, he was going over the hills with a brother
—now no more— when a great bull came bellowing out of a
wood, and both took to their heels. The old chief sprang into a
tree; his companion, flying in an opposite direction, was pursued,
and in the very act of reaching up to a bough, trampled under
foot. The unhappy man was then gored—tossed in the air—
and finally run away with on the bull's horns. More dead than
alive, Tonoi waited till all was over, and then made the best of
his way home. The neighbors, armed with two or three muskets,
at once started to recover, if possible, his unfortunate
brother's remains. At nightfall, they returned without discovering
any trace of him; but the next morning, Tonoi himself
caught a glimpse of a bullock, marching across the mountain's
brow, with a long dark object borne aloft on his horns.

Having referred to Vancouver's attempts to colonize the
islands with useful quadrupeds, we may as well say something
concerning his success upon Hawaii, one of the largest islands
in the whole Polynesian Archipelago; and which gives the native
name to the well known cluster named by Cook in honor
of Lord Sandwich.

Hawaii is some one hundred leagues in circuit, and covers an
area of over four thousand square miles. Until within a few
years past, its interior was almost unknown, even to the inhabitants
themselves, who, for ages, had been prevented from wandering
thither, by certain strange superstitions. Pelee, the
terrific goddess of the volcanoes Mount Roa and Mount Kea,[20]
was supposed to guard all the passes to the extensive valleys

lying round their base. There are legends of her having chased
with streams of fire several impious adventurers. Near Hilo,
a jet-black cliff is shown, with the vitreous torrent apparently
pouring over into the sea: just as it cooled after one of these
supernatural eruptions.

To these inland valleys, and the adjoining hillsides, which
are clothed in the most luxuriant vegetation, Vancouver's bullocks
soon wandered; and unmolested for a long period, multiplied
in vast herds.

Some twelve or fifteen years ago, the natives, losing sight of
their superstitions, and learning the value of the hides in commerce,
began hunting the creatures that wore them; but being
very fearful and awkward in a business so novel, their success
was small; and it was not until the arrival of a party of Spanish
hunters, men regularly trained to their calling upon the
plains of California, that the work of slaughter was fairly begun.

The Spaniards were showy fellows, tricked out in gay blankets,
leggins worked with porcupine quills, and jingling spurs.
Mounted upon trained Indian mares, these heroes pursued their
prey up to the very base of the burning mountains; making the
profoundest solitudes ring with their shouts, and flinging the
lasso under the very nose of the vixen goddess Pelee. Hilo, a
village upon the coast, was their place of resort; and thither
flocked roving whites from all the islands of the group. As
pupils of the dashing Spaniards, many of these dissipated fellows,
quaffing too freely of the stirrup-cup, and riding headlong
after the herds, when they reeled in the saddle, were unhorsed
and killed.

This was about the year 1835, when the present king, Tammahamaha
III. was a lad. With royal impudence, laying claim
to the sole property of the cattle, he was delighted with the

idea of receiving one of every two silver dollars paid down for
their hides; so, with no thought for the future, the work of extermination
went madly on. In three years' time, eighteen
thousand bullocks were slain, almost entirely upon the single
island of Hawaii.

The herds being thus nearly destroyed, the sagacious young
prince imposed a rigorous “taboo” upon the few surviving
cattle, which was to remain in force for ten years. During this
period—not yet expired—all hunting is forbidden, unless directly
authorized by the king.

The massacre of the cattle extended to the hapless goats. In
one year, three thousand of their skins were sold to the merchants
of Honolulu, fetching a quartilia, or a shilling sterling
apiece.

After this digression, it is time to run on after Tonoi and the
Yankee.

55. CHAPTER LV.

At the foot of the mountain, a steep path went up among
rocks and clefts, mantled with verdure. Here and there were
green gulfs, down which it made one giddy to peep. At last
we gained an overhanging, wooded shelf of land which crowned
the heights; and along this, the path, well shaded, ran like a
gallery.

In every direction, the scenery was enchanting. There was
a low, rustling breeze; and below, in the vale, the leaves
were quivering; the sea lay, blue and serene, in the distance;
and inland the surface swelled up, ridge after ridge, and peak
upon peak, all bathed in the Indian haze of the Tropics, and
dreamy to look upon. Still valleys, leagues away, reposed in
the deep shadows of the mountains; and here and there,
water-falls lifted up their voices in the solitude. High above
all, and central, the “Marling-spike” lifted its finger. Upon
the hillsides, small groups of bullocks were seen; some quietly
browsing; others slowly winding into the valleys.

We went on, directing our course for a slope of the hills, a
mile or two further, where the nearest bullocks were seen.

We were cautious in keeping to windward of them; their
sense of smell and hearing being, like those of all wild creatures,
exceedingly acute.

As there was no knowing that we might not surprise some
other kind of game in the coverts through which we were passing,
we crept along warily.

The wild hogs of the island are uncommonly fierce; and as
they often attack the natives, I could not help following Tonoi's
example of once in a while peeping in under the foliage. Frequent
retrospective glances also, served to assure me that our
retreat was not cut off.

As we rounded a clump of bushes, a noise behind them, like
the crackling of dry branches, broke the stillness. In an instant,
Tonoi's hand was on a bough, ready for a spring, and
Zeke's finger touched the trigger of his piece. Again the stillness
was broken; and thinking it high time to get ready, I
brought my musket to my shoulder.

“Look sharp!” cried the Yankee; and dropping on one knee,
he brushed the twigs aside. Presently, off went his piece; and
with a wild snort, a black, bristling boar—his cherry red lip
curled up by two glittering tusks—dashed, unharmed, across
the path, and crashed through the opposite thicket. I saluted
him with a charge as he disappeared; but not the slightest notice
was taken of the civility.

By this time, Tonoi, the illustrious descendant of the Bishops
of Imeeo, was twenty feet from the ground. “Aramai! come
down, you old fool!” cried the Yankee; “the pesky critter's on
t'other side of the island afore this.

“I rayther guess,” he continued, as we began reloading,
“that we've spoiled sport by firing at that ere 'tarnal hog. Them
bullocks' heard the racket, and is flinging their tails about now
on the keen jump. Quick, Paul, and let's climb that rock yonder,
and see if so be there's any in sight.”

But none were to be seen, except at such a distance that they
looked like ants.

As evening was now at hand, my companion proposed our
returning home forthwith; and then, after a sound night's rest,
starting in the morning upon a good day's hunt with the whole
force of the plantation.

Following another path, in descending into the valley, we passed
through some nobly wooded land on the face of the mountain.

One variety of tree particularly attracted my attention. The
dark mossy stem, over seventy feet high, was perfectly branchless
for many feet above the ground, when it shot out in broad
boughs laden with lustrous leaves of the deepest green. And
all round the lower part of the trunk, thin, slab-like buttresses
of bark, perfectly smooth, and radiating from a common center,
projected along the ground for at least two yards. From below,
these natural props tapered upward until gradually blended with
the trunk itself. There were signs of the wild cattle having sheltered
themselves behind them. Zeke called this the canoetree;
as in old times it supplied the navies of the Kings of Tahiti.
For canoe-building, the wood is still used. Being extremely
dense, and impervious to worms, it is very durable.

Emerging from the forest, when half-way down the hillside,
we came upon an open space, covered with ferns and grass,
over which a few lonely trees were casting long shadows in
the setting sun. Here, a piece of ground some hundred feet
square, covered with weeds and brambles, and sounding hollow
to the tread, was inclosed by a ruinous wall of stones. Tonoi
said it was an almost forgotten burial-place, of great antiquity,
where no one had been interred since the islanders had been
Christians. Sealed up in dry, deep vaults, many a dead heathen
was lying here.

Curious to prove the old man's statement, I was anxious to
get a peep at the catacombs; but hermetically overgrown with
vegetation, as they were, no aperture was visible.

Before gaining the level of the valley, we passed by the site
of a village, near a water-course, long since deserted. There
was nothing but stone walls, and rude dismantled foundations
of houses, constructed of the same material. Large trees and
brush-wood were growing rankly among them.

I asked Tonoi how long it was since any one had lived here.
“Me, tammaree (boy)—plenty kannaker (men) Martair,” he
replied. “Now, only poor pehe kannaka (fishermen) left—me
born here.”

Going down the valley, vegetation of every kind presented
a different aspect from that of the high land.

Chief among the trees of the plain on this island, is the “Ati,”
large and lofty, with a massive trunk, and broad, laurel-shaped
leaves. The wood is splendid. In Tahiti, I was shown a narrow,
polished plank, fit to make a cabinet for a king. Taken
from the heart of the tree, it was of a deep, rich scarlet, traced
with yellow veins, and in some places clouded with hazel.

In the same grove with the regal “Ati,” you may see the
beautiful flowering “Hotoo;” its pyramid of shining leaves diversified
with numberless small, white blossoms.

Planted with trees as the valley is, almost throughout its entire
length, I was astonished to observe so very few which were
useful to the natives: not one in a hundred was a cocoa-nut or
bread-fruit tree.

But here Tonoi again enlightened me. In the sanguinary
religious hostilities which ensued upon the conversion to Christianity
of the first Pomaree, a war party from Tahiti destroyed
(by “girdling” the bark) entire groves of these invaluable
trees. For some time afterward, they stood stark and leafless
in the sun; sad monuments of the fate which befell the inhabitants
of the valley.

56. CHAPTER LVI.

The night following the hunting trip, Long Ghost and myself,
after a valiant defense, had to fly the house on account of
the musquitoes.

And here I can not avoid relating a story, rife among the
natives, concerning the manner in which these insects were
introduced upon the island.

Some years previous, a whaling captain, touching at an adjoining
bay, got into difficulty with its inhabitants, and at last
carried his complaint before one of the native tribunals; but
receiving no satisfaction, and deeming himself aggrieved, he
resolved upon taking signal revenge. One night, he towed a
rotten old water-cask ashore, and left it in a neglected Taro
patch, where the ground was warm and moist. Hence the
musquitoes.

I tried my best to learn the name of this man: and hereby
do what I can to hand it down to posterity. It was Coleman—
Nathan Coleman. The ship belonged to Nantucket.

When tormented by the musquitoes, I found much relief in
coupling the word “Coleman” with another of one syllable, and
pronouncing them together energetically.

The doctor suggested a walk to the beach, where there was
a long, low shed tumbling to pieces, but open lengthwise to a
current of air which he thought might keep off the musquitoes.
So thither we went.

The ruin partially sheltered a relic of times gone by, which,

a few days after, we examined with much curiosity. It was an
old war-canoe, crumbling to dust. Being supported by the
same rude blocks upon which, apparently, it had years before
been hollowed out, in all probability it had never been afloat.

Outside, it seemed originally stained of a green color, which,
here and there, was now changed into a dingy purple. The
prow terminated in a high, blunt beak; both sides were covered
with carving; and upon the stern was something which Long
Ghost maintained to be the arms of the royal House of Pomaree.
The device had an heraldic look, certainly—being two
sharks with the talons of hawks clawing a knot left projecting
from the wood.

The canoe was at least forty feet long, about two wide, and
four deep. The upper part—consisting of narrow planks laced
together with cords of sinnate—had in many places fallen off,
and lay decaying upon the ground. Still, there were ample accommodations
left for sleeping; and in we sprang—the doctor
into the bow, and I, into the stern. I soon fell asleep; but waking
suddenly, cramped in every joint from my constrained posture,
I thought, for an instant, that I must have been prematurely
screwed down in my coffin.

Presenting my compliments to Long Ghost, I asked how it
fared with him.

“Bad enough,” he replied, as he tossed about in the outlandish
rubbish lying in the bottom of our couch. “Pah! how
these old mats smell!”

As he continued talking in this exciting strain for some time,
I at last made no reply, having resumed certain mathematical
reveries to induce repose. But finding the multiplication-table
of no avail, I summoned up a grayish image of chaos in a sort
of sliding fluidity, and was just falling into a nap on the
strength of it, when I heard a solitary and distinct buzz. The
hour of my calamity was at hand. One blended hum, the

creature darted into the canoe like a small sword-fish; and I
out of it.

Upon getting into the open air, to my surprise, there was
Long Ghost, fanning himself wildly with an old paddle. He
had just made a noiseless escape from a swarm, which had
attacked his own end of the canoe.

It was now proposed to try the water; so a small fishing
canoe, hauled up near by, was quickly lanched; and paddling
a good distance off, we dropped overboard the native contrivance
for an anchor—a heavy stone, attached to a cable of
braided bark. At this part of the island, the encircling reef
was close to the shore, leaving the water within smooth, and
extremely shallow.

It was a blessed thought! We knew nothing till sunrise,
when the motion of our aquatic cot awakened us. I looked
up, and beheld Zeke wading toward the shore, and towing us
after him by the bark cable. Pointing to the reef, he told us
we had had a narrow escape.

It was true enough; the water-sprites had rolled our stone
out of its noose, and we had floated away.

57. CHAPTER LVII.

Fair dawned, over the hills of Martair, the jocund morning
of our hunt.

Every thing had been prepared for it overnight; and, when
we arrived at the house, a good breakfast was spread by
Shorty: and old Tonoi was bustling about like an innkeeper.
Several of his men, also, were in attendance, to accompany us
with calabashes of food; and, in case we met with any success,
to officiate as bearers of burdens, on our return.

Apprised, the evening previous, of the meditated sport,
the doctor had announced his willingness to take part
therein.

Now, subsequent events made us regard this expedition
as a shrewd device of the Yankee's. Once get us off on a
pleasure trip, and with what face could we afterward refuse to
work? Beside, he enjoyed all the credit of giving us a holy-day.
Nor did he omit assuring us, that, work or play, our
wages were all the while running on.

A dilapidated old musket of Tonoi's, was borrowed for the
doctor. It was exceedingly short and heavy, with a clumsy
lock, which required a strong finger to pull the trigger. On
trying the piece, by firing at a mark, Long Ghost was satisfied
that it could not fail of doing execution: the charge went one
way, and he the other.

Upon this, he endeavored to negotiate an exchange of muskets
with Shorty; but the Cockney was proof against his

blandishments; at last he intrusted his weapon to one of the
natives to carry for him.

Marshaling our forces, we started for the head of the valley;
near which, a path ascended to a range of high land, said to be
a favorite resort of the cattle.

Shortly after gaining the heights, a small herd, some way
off, was perceived entering a wood. We hurried on; and,
dividing our party, went in after them, at four different points;
each white man followed by several natives.

I soon found myself in a dense covert; and, after looking
round, was just emerging into a clear space, when I heard a
report, and a bullet knocked the bark from a tree near by.
The same instant, there was a trampling and crashing; and five
bullocks, nearly abreast, broke into view across the opening,
and plunged right toward the spot where myself and three of
the islanders were standing.

They were small, black, vicious-looking creatures; with
short, sharp horns, red nostrils, and eyes like coals of fire. On
they came—their dark woolly heads hanging down.

By this time, my island backers were roosting among the
trees. Glancing round, for an instant, to discover a retreat in
case of emergency, I raised my piece, when a voice cried out,
from the wood, “Right between the 'orns, Paul! right between
the 'orns!” Down went my barrel, in range with a
small white tuft on the forehead of the headmost one; and,
letting him have it, I darted to one side. As I turned again,
the five bullocks shot by like a blast, making the air eddy in
their wake.

The Yankee now burst into view, and saluted them in flank.
Whereupon, the fierce little bull with the tufted forehead,
flirted his long tail over his buttocks; kicked out, with his
hind feet, and shot forward a full length. It was nothing but
a graze; and, in an instant, they were out of sight, the thicket

into which they broke rocking overhead, and marking their
progress.

The action over, the heavy artillery came up, in the person
of the Long Doctor, with his blunderbuss.

“Where are they?” he cried, out of breath.

“A mile or two h'off, by this time,” replied the Cockney.
“Lord, Paul! you ought to've sent an 'ail stone into that little
black 'un.”

While excusing my want of skill, as well as I could, Zeke,
rushing forward, suddenly exclaimed, “Creation! what are
you 'bout there, Peter?”

Peter, incensed at our ill luck, and ignorantly imputing it to
the cowardice of our native auxiliaries, was bringing his piece
to bear upon his trembling squire—the musket carrier—now
descending a tree.

Pulling trigger, the bullet went high over his head; and, hopping
to the ground, bellowing like a calf, the fellow ran away
as fast as his heels could carry him. The rest followed us,
after this, with fear and trembling.

After forming our line of march anew, we went on for
several hours, without catching a glimpse of the game; the
reports of the muskets having been heard at a great distance.
At last, we mounted a craggy height, to obtain a wide view of
the country. From this place, we beheld three cattle, quietly
browsing in a green opening of a wood below; the trees shutting
them in all round.

A general reëxamination of the muskets now took place,
followed by a hasty lunch from the calabashes: we then
started. As we descended the mountain-side, the cattle were
in plain sight, until we entered the forest, when we lost sight
of them for a moment; but only to see them again, as we
crept close up to the spot where they grazed.

They were a bull, a cow, and a calf. The cow was lying

down in the shade, by the edge of the wood; the calf, sprawling
out before her in the grass, licking her lips; while old
Taurus himself stood close by, casting a paternal glance at this
domestic little scene, and conjugally elevating his nose in the
air.

“Now then,” said Zeke, in a whisper, “let's take the poor
creeturs, while they are huddled together. Crawl along, b'ys;
crawl along. Fire together, mind; and not 'till I say the
word.”

We crept up to the very edge of the open ground, and
knelt behind a clump of bushes; resting our leveled barrels
among the branches. The slight rustling was heard. Taurus
turned round, dropped his head to the ground, and sent forth
a low, sullen bellow; then snuffed the air. The cow rose on
her fore knees, pitched forward alarmedly, and stood upon
her legs; while the calf, with ears pricked, got right under
neath her. All three were now grouped, and, in an instant
would be off.

“I take the bull,” cried our leader; “fire!”

The calf fell like a clod; its dam uttered a cry, and thrust
her head into the thicket; but she turned, and came moaning
up to the lifeless calf, going round and round it, snuffing
fiercely with her bleeding nostrils. A crashing in the wood, and
a loud roar, announced the flying bull.

Soon, another shot was fired, and the cow fell. Leaving
some of the natives to look after the dead cattle, the rest of us
hurried on after the bull; his dreadful bellowings guiding us to
the spot where he lay. Wounded in the shoulder, in his fright
and agony he had bounded into the wood; but when we came
up to him, he had sunk to the earth in a green hollow, thrusting
his black muzzle into a pool of his own blood, and tossing
it over his hide in clots.

The Yankee brought his piece to a rest; and, the next instant,

the wild brute sprang into the air, and with his fore legs
crouching under him, fell dead.

Our island friends were now in high spirits; all courage and
alacrity. Old Tonoi thought nothing of taking poor Taurus
himself by the horns, and peering into his glazed eyes.

Our ship knives were at once in request; and, skinning the
cattle, we hung them high up by cords of bark from the
boughs of a tree. Withdrawing into a covert, we there waited
for the wild hogs; which, according to Zeke, would soon
make their appearance, lured by the smell of blood. Presently,
we heard them coming, in two or three different directions;
and, in a moment, they were tearing the offal to pieces.

As only one shot at these creatures could be relied on, we
intended firing simultaneously; but, somehow or other, the
doctor's piece went off by itself, and one of the hogs dropped.
The others then breaking into the thicket, the rest of us sprang
after them; resolved to have another shot at all hazards.

The Cockney darted among some bushes; and, a few
moments after, we heard the report of his musket, followed by
a quick cry. On running up, we saw our comrade doing
battle with a young devil of a boar, as black as night, whose
snout had been partly torn away. Firing when the game was
in full career, and coming directly toward him, Shorty had
been assailed by the enraged brute; it was now crunching
the breech of the musket, with which he had tried to club it;
Shorty holding fast to the barrel, and fingering his waist for a
knife. Being in advance of the others, I clapped my gun to
the boar's head, and so put an end to the contest.

Evening now coming on, we set to work loading our carriers.
The cattle were so small, that a stout native could walk
off with an entire quarter; brushing through thickets, and
descending rocks without an apparent effort: though, to tell the
truth, no white man present could have done the thing with

any ease. As for the wild hogs, none of the islanders could
be induced to carry Shorty's; some invincible superstition
being connected with its black color. We were, therefore,
obliged to leave it. The other, a spotted one, being slung by
green thongs to a pole, was marched off with by two young
natives.

With our bearers of burdens ahead, we then commenced
our return down the valley. Half-way home, darkness over-took
us in the woods; and torches became necessary. We
stopped, and made them of dry palm branches; and then,
sending two lads on in advance, for the purpose of gathering
fuel to feed the flambeaux, we continued our journey.

It was a wild sight. The torches, waved aloft, flashed
through the forest; and, where the ground admitted, the
islanders went along on a brisk trot, notwithstanding they
bent forward under their loads. Their naked backs were
stained with blood; and occasionally, running by each other,
they raised wild cries, which startled the hillsides.

58. CHAPTER LVIII.

Two bullocks and a boar! No bad trophies of our day's
sport. So by torchlight we marched into the plantation, the
wild hog rocking from its pole, and the doctor singing an old
hunting-song—Tally-ho! the chorus of which swelled high
above the yells of the natives.

We resolved to make a night of it. Kindling a great fire
just outside the dwelling, and hanging one of the heifer's quarters
from a limb of the banian-tree, every one was at liberty
to cut and broil for himself. Baskets of roasted bread-fruit, and
plenty of taro pudding; bunches of bananas, and young cocoa-nuts,
had also been provided by the natives against our return.

The fire burned bravely, keeping off the musquitoes, and
making every man's face glow like a beaker of Port. The
meat had the true wild-game flavor, not at all impaired by our
famous appetites, and a couple of flasks of white brandy, which
Zeke, producing from his secret store, circulated freely.

There was no end to my long comrade's spirits. After
telling his stories, and singing his songs, he sprang to his feet,
clasped a young damsel of the grove round the waist, and
waltzed over the grass with her. But there's no telling all the
pranks he played that night. The natives, who delight in a
wag, emphatically pronounced him “maitai.”

It was long after midnight ere we broke up; but when the
rest had retired, Zeke, with the true thrift of a Yankee, salted
down what was left of the meat.

The next day was Sunday; and at my request, Shorty accompanied
me to Afrehitoo—a neighboring bay, and the seat
of a mission, almost directly opposite Papeetee. In Afrehitoo
is a large church and school-house, both quite dilapidated; and
planted amid shrubbery on a fine knoll, stands a very tasteful
cottage, commanding a view across the channel. In passing, I
caught sight of a graceful calico skirt disappearing from the
piazza through a doorway. The place was the residence of
the missionary.

A trim little sail-boat was dancing out at her moorings, a few
yards from the beach.

Straggling over the low lands in the vicinity were several
native huts—untidy enough—but much better every way, than
most of those in Tahiti.

We attended service at the church, where we found but a
small congregation; and after what I had seen in Papeetee,
nothing very interesting took place. But the audience had a
curious, fidgety look, which I knew not how to account for,
until we ascertained that a sermon with the eighth commandment
for a text was being preached.

It seemed that there lived an Englishman in the district, who,
like our friends, the planters, was cultivating Tombez potatoes
for the Papeetee market.

In spite of all his precautions, the natives were in the habit
of making nocturnal forays into his inclosure, and carrying off
the potatoes. One night he fired a fowling-piece, charged with
pepper and salt, at several shadows which he discovered stealing
across his premises. They fled. But it was like seasoning
any thing else: the knaves stole again with a greater relish than
ever; and the very next night, he caught a party in the act of
roasting a basket full of potatoes under his own cooking-shed.
At last, he stated his grievances to the missionary; who, for the
benefit of his congregation, preached the sermon we heard.

Now, there were no thieves in Martair; but then, the people
of the valley were bribed to be honest. It was a regular business
transaction between them and the planters. In consideration
of so many potatoes “to them in hand, duly paid,” they were to
abstain from all depredations upon the plantation. Another
security against roguery, was the permanent residence upon
the premises, of their chief, Tonoi.

On our return to Martair, in the afternoon, we found the
doctor and Zeke making themselves comfortable. The latter
was reclining on the ground, pipe in mouth, watching the doctor,
who, sitting like a Turk, before a large iron kettle, was
slicing potatoes and Indian turnip, and now and then shattering
splinters from a bone; all of which, by turns, were thrown into
the pot. He was making what he called “Bullock broth.”

In gastronomic affairs, my friend was something of an artist;
and by way of improving his knowledge, did nothing the rest
of the day but practice in what might be called Experimental
Cookery: broiling and grilling, and deviling slices of meat,
and subjecting them to all sorts of igneous operations. It was
the first fresh beef that either of us had tasted in more than a
year.

“Oh, ye'll pick up arter a while, Peter,” observed Zeke
toward night, as Long Ghost was turning a great rib over the
coals—“what d'ye think, Paul?”

“He'll get along, I dare say,” replied I; “he only wants to
get those cheeks of his tanned.” To tell the truth, I was not a
little pleased to see the doctor's reputation as an invalid fading
away so fast; especially, as on the strength of his being one,
he had promised to have such easy times of it, and very likely,
too, at my expense.

59. CHAPTER LIX.

Dozing in our canoe the next morning about daybreak, we
were wakened by Zeke's hailing us loudly from the beach.

Upon paddling up, he told us that a canoe had arrived overnight,
from Papeetee, with an order from a ship lying there, for
a supply of his potatoes; and as they must be on board the vessel
by noon, he wanted us to assist in bringing them down to
his sail-boat.

My long comrade was one of those, who, from always thrusting
forth the wrong foot foremost when they rise, or committing
some other indiscretion of the limbs, are more or less crabbed
or sullen before breakfast. It was in vain, therefore, that the
Yankee deplored the urgency of the case, which obliged him
to call us up thus early:—the doctor only looked the more
glum, and said nothing in reply.

At last, by way of getting up a little enthusiasm for the occasion,
the Yankee exclaimed quite spiritedly, “What d'ye say,
then, b'ys, shall we git at it?”

“Yes, in the devil's name!” replied the doctor, like a snapping
turtle; and we moved on to the house. Notwithstanding
his ungracious answer, he probably thought that after the gastronomic
performance of the day previous, it would hardly do
to hang back. At the house, we found Shorty ready with the
hoes; and we at once repaired to the farther side of the inclosure,
where the potatoes had yet to be taken out of the
ground.

The rich, tawny soil seemed specially adapted to the crop;
the great yellow murphies rolling out of the hills like eggs from
a nest.

My comrade really surprised me by the zeal with which he
applied himself to his hoe. For my own part, exhilarated by
the cool breath of the morning, I worked away like a good
fellow. As for Zeke and the Cockney, they seemed mightily
pleased at this evidence of our willingness to exert ourselves.

It was not long ere all the potatoes were turned out; and then
came the worst of it: they were to be lugged down to the
beach, a distance of at least a quarter of a mile. And there
being no such thing as a barrow, or cart, on the island, there
was nothing for it but spinal-marrows and broad shoulders.
Well knowing that this part of the business would be any thing
but agreeable, Zeke did his best to put as encouraging a face
upon it as possible; and giving us no time to indulge in desponding
thoughts, gleefully directed our attention to a pile of
rude baskets—made of stout stalks—which had been provided
for the occasion. So, without more ado, we helped ourselves
from the heap; and soon we were all four staggering along under
our loads.

The first trip down, we arrived at the beach together: Zeke's
enthusiastic cries proving irresistible. A trip or two more,
however, and my shoulders began to grate in their sockets;
while the doctor's tall figure acquired an obvious stoop. Presently,
we both threw down our baskets, protesting we could
stand it no longer. But our employers, bent, as it were, upon
getting the work out of us by a silent appeal to our moral
sense, toiled away without pretending to notice us. It was as
much as to say, “There, men, we've been boarding and lodging
ye for the last three days; and yesterday ye did nothing
earthly but eat; so stand by now, and look at us working, if
ye dare.” Thus driven to it, then, we resumed our employment.

Yet, in spite of all we could do, we lagged behind
Zeke and Shorty, who, breathing hard, and perspiring at every
pore, toiled away without pause or cessation. I almost wickedly
wished, that they would load themselves down with one
potato too many.

Gasping as I was with my own hamper, I could not, for the
life of me, help laughing at Long Ghost. There he went:—
his long neck thrust forward, his arms twisted behind him to
form a shelf for his basket to rest on; and his stilts of legs every
once in a while giving way under him, as if his knee-joints slipped
either way.

“There! I carry no more!” he exclaimed all at once, flinging
his potatoes into the boat, where the Yankee was just then stowing
them away.

“Oh, then,” said Zeke, quite briskly, “I guess you and Paul
had better try the `barrel-machine'—come along, I'll fix ye out
in no time;” and, so saying, he waded ashore, and hurried
back to the house, bidding us follow.

Wondering what upon earth the “barrel-machine” could be,
and rather suspicious of it, we limped after. On arriving at the
house, we found him getting ready a sort of sedan-chair. It
was nothing more than an old barrel, suspended by a rope from
the middle of a stout oar. Quite an ingenious contrivance of
the Yankee's; and his proposed arrangement with regard to
mine and the doctor's shoulders, was equally so.

“There now!” said he, when every thing was ready, “there's
no back-breaking about this; you can stand right up under it,
you see: jist try it once;” and he politely rested the blade of
the oar on my comrade's right shoulder, and the other end on
mine, leaving the barrel between us.

“Jist the thing!” he added, standing off admiringly, while we
remained in this interesting attitude.

There was no help for us; with broken hearts and backs we

trudged back to the field; the doctor all the while saying
masses.

Upon starting with the loaded barrel, for a few paces we got
along pretty well, and were constrained to think the idea not a
bad one. But we did not long think so. In less than five minutes
we came to a dead halt, the springing and buckling of the
clumsy oar being almost unendurable.

“Let's shift ends,” cried the doctor, who did not quite relish
the blade of the stick, which was cutting into the blade of his
shoulder.

At last, by stages short and frequent, we managed to shamble
down to the beach, where we again dumped our cargo, in
something of a pet.

“Why not make the natives help?” asked Long Ghost, rubbing
his shoulder.

“Natives be dumned!” said the Yankee, “twenty on 'em
ain't worth one white man. They never was meant to work
any, them chaps; and they knows it, too, for dumned little work
any on 'em ever does.”

But notwithstanding this abuse, Zeke was at last obliged to
press a few of the bipeds into service. “Aramai!” (come here)
he shouted to several, who, reclining on a bank, had hitherto
been critical observers of our proceedings; and, among other
things, had been particularly amused by the performance with
the sedan-chair.

After making these fellows load their baskets together, the
Yankee filled his own, and then drove them before him, down
to the beach. Probably he had seen the herds of panniered
mules, driven in this way by mounted Indians, along the great
road from Callao to Lima.

The boat at last loaded, the Yankee, taking with him a couple
of natives, at once hoisted sail, and stood across the channel for
Papeetee.

The next morning at breakfast, old Tonoi ran in, and told us
that the voyagers were returning. We hurried down to the
beach, and saw the boat gliding toward us, with a dozing
islander at the helm, and Zeke standing up in the bows, jingling
a small bag of silver, the proceeds of his cargo.

60. CHAPTER LX.

Several quiet days now passed away, during which, we just
worked sufficiently to sharpen our appetites; the planters leniently
exempting us from any severe toil.

Their desire to retain us became more and more evident;
which was not to be wondered at; for, beside esteeming us
from the beginning a couple of civil, good-natured fellows, who
would soon become quite at home with them, they were not
slow in perceiving, that we were far different from the common
run of rovers; and that our society was both entertaining and
instructive to a couple of solitary, illiterate men, like themselves.

In a literary point of view, indeed, they soon regarded us
with emotions of envy and wonder; and the doctor was considered
nothing short of a prodigy. The Cockney found out,
that he (the doctor) could read a book upside down, without
even so much as spelling the big words beforehand; and the
Yankee, in the twinkling of an eye, received from him the sum
total of several arithmetical items, stated aloud, with the view
of testing the extent of his mathematical lore.

Then, frequently, in discoursing upon men and things, my
long comrade employed such imposing phrases, that, upon one
occasion, they actually remained uncovered while he talked.

In short, their favorable opinion of Long Ghost in particular,
rose higher and higher every day; and they began to indulge
in all manner of dreams concerning the advantages to be derived

from employing so learned a laborer. Among other projects
revealed, was that of building a small craft of some forty tons, for
the purpose of trading among the neighboring islands. With a
native crew, we would then take turns cruising over the tranquil
Pacific; touching here and there, as caprice suggested, and
collecting romantic articles of commerce;—beach-de-mer, the
pearl-oyster, arrow-root, ambergris, sandal-wood, cocoa-nut oil,
and edible birdsnests.

This South Sea yachting was delightful to think of; and
straightway, the doctor announced his willingness to navigate
the future schooner clear of all shoals and reefs whatsoever.
His impudence was audacious. He enlarged upon the science
of navigation; treated us to a dissertation on Mercator's Sailing
and the Azimuth compass; and went into an inexplicable
explanation of, the Lord only knows what plan of his, for infallibly
settling the longitude.

Whenever my comrade thus gave the reins to his fine fancy,
it was a treat to listen, and therefore I never interfered; but,
with the planters, sat in mute admiration before him. This apparent
self-abasement on my part, must have been considered
as truly indicative of our respective merits; for, to my no small
concern, I quickly perceived, that in the estimate formed of
us, Long Ghost began to be rated far above myself. For aught
I knew, indeed, he might have privately thrown out a hint
concerning the difference in our respective stations aboard the
Julia; or else, the planters must have considered him some illustrious
individual, for certain inscrutable reasons, going incog.
With this idea of him, his undisguised disinclination for work
became venial; and, entertaining such views of extending their
business, they counted more upon his ultimate value to them
as a man of science, than as a mere ditcher.

Nor did the humorous doctor forbear to foster an opinion
every way so advantageous to himself; at times, for the sake

of the joke, assuming airs of superiority over myself, which,
though laughable enough, were sometimes annoying.

To tell the plain truth, things at last came to such a pass,
that I told him, up and down, that I had no notion to put up
with his pretensions; if he were going to play the gentleman,
I was going to follow suit; and then, there would quickly be an
explosion.

At this he laughed heartily; and after some mirthful chat,
we resolved upon leaving the valley, as soon as we could do
so with a proper regard to politeness.

At supper, therefore, the same evening, the doctor hinted at
our intention.

Though much surprised, and vexed, Zeke moved not a
muscle. “Peter,” said he at last—very gravely—and after
mature deliberation, “would you like to do the cooking? It's
easy work; and you needn't do any thing else. Paul's heartier;
he can work in the field when it suits him; and before long, we'll
have ye at something more agreeable:—won't we, Shorty?”

Shorty assented.

Doubtless, the proposed arrangement was a snug one; especially
the sinecure for the doctor; but I by no means relished
the functions allotted to myself—they were too indefinite.
Nothing final, however, was agreed upon;—our intention to
leave was revealed, and that was enough for the present. But,
as we said nothing further about going, the Yankee must have
concluded, that we might yet be induced to remain. He redoubled
his endeavors to make us contented.

It was during this state of affairs, that one morning, before
breakfast, we were set to weeding in a potato-patch; and the
planters being engaged at the house, we were left to ourselves.

Now, though the pulling of weeds was considered by our
employers an easy occupation (for which reason, they had assigned
it to us), and although as a garden recreation, it may be

pleasant enough, for those who like it—still, long persisted in,
the business becomes excessively irksome.

Nevertheless, we toiled away for some time, until the doctor,
who, from his height, was obliged to stoop at a very acute
angle, suddenly sprang upright; and, with one hand propping
his spinal column, exclaimed, “Oh, that one's joints were but
provided with holes to drop a little oil through!”

Vain as the aspiration was, for this proposed improvement
upon our species, I cordially responded thereto; for every vertebra
in my spine was articulating its sympathy.

Presently, the sun rose over the mountains, inducing that
deadly morning languor, so fatal to early exertion in a warm
climate. We could stand it no longer; but, shouldering our
hoes, moved on to the house, resolved to impose no more upon
the good-nature of the planters, by continuing one moment
longer in an occupation so extremely uncongenial.

We freely told them so. Zeke was exceedingly hurt, and
said every thing he could think of to alter our determination;
but, finding all unavailing, he very hospitably urged us not to
be in any hurry about leaving; for we might stay with him as
guests until we had time to decide upon our future movements.

We thanked him sincerely; but replied, that the following
morning, we must turn our backs upon the hills of Martair.

61. CHAPTER LXI.

During the remainder of the day we loitered about, talking
over our plans.

The doctor was all eagerness to visit Tamai, a solitary inland
village, standing upon the banks of a considerable lake of the
same name, and embosomed among groves. From Afrehitoo
you went to this place by a lonely pathway, leading through the
wildest scenery in the world. Much, too, we had heard concerning
the lake itself, which abounded in such delicious fish,
that, in former times, angling parties occasionally came over to
it, from Papeetee.

Upon its banks, moreover, grew the finest fruit of the islands,
and in their greatest perfection. The “Ve,” or Brazilian plum,
here attained the size of an orange; and the gorgeous “Arheea,”
or red apple of Tahiti, blushed with deeper dyes than in
any of the seaward valleys.

Beside all this, in Tamai dwelt the most beautiful and
unsophisticated women in the entire Society group. In
short, the village was so remote from the coast, and had been
so much less affected by recent changes than other places
that, in most things, Tahitian life was here seen, as formerly
existing in the days of young Otoo, the boy-king, in Cook's
time.

After obtaining from the planters all the information which
was needed, we decided upon penetrating to the village; and
after a temporary sojourn there, to strike the beach again, and

journey round to Taloo, a harbor on the opposite side of the
island.

We at once put ourselves in traveling trim. Just previous
to leaving Tahiti, having found my wardrobe reduced to two
suits (frock and trowsers, both much the worse for wear), I had
quilted them together for mutual preservation (after a fashion
peculiar to sailors); engrafting a red frock upon a blue one,
and producing thereby a choice variety in the way of clothing.
This was the extent of my wardrobe. Nor was the doctor by
any means better off. His improvidence had at last driven
him to don the nautical garb; but by this time, his frock—a
light cotton one—had almost given out, and he had nothing to
replace it. Shorty very generously offered him one which
was a little less ragged; but the alms was proudly refused;
Long Ghost preferring to assume the ancient costume of Tahiti
—the “Roora.”

This garment, once worn as a festival dress, is now seldom
met with; but Captain Bob had often shown us one which he
kept as an heirloom. It was a cloak, or mantle of yellow
tappa, precisely similar to the “poncho,” worn by the South-American
Spaniards. The head being slipped through a slit in
the middle, the robe hangs about the person in ample drapery.
Tonoi obtained sufficient coarse brown tappa to make a short
mantle of this description; and in five minutes the doctor was
equipped. Zeke, eying his toga critically, reminded its proprietor,
that there were many streams to ford, and precipices to
scale, between Martair and Tamai; and if he traveled in petticoats,
he had better hold them up.

Besides other deficiencies, we were utterly shoeless. In the
free and easy Pacific, sailors seldom wear shoes; mine had
been tossed overboard the day we met the Trades; and except
in one or two tramps ashore, I had never worn any since. In
Martair, they would have been desirable; but none were to be

had. For the expedition we meditated, however, they were
indispensable. Zeke, being the owner of a pair of huge, dilapidated
boots, hanging from a rafter like saddle-bags, the doctor
succeeded in exchanging for them a case-knife, the last valuable
article in his possession. For myself, I made sandals from
a bullock's hide, such as are worn by the Indians in California.
They are made in a minute; the sole, rudely fashioned to the
foot, being confined across the instep by three straps of leather.

Our headgear deserves a passing word. My comrade's was
a brave old Panama hat, made of grass, almost as fine as threads
of silk; and so elastic, that upon rolling it up, it sprang into
perfect shape again. Set off by the jaunty slouch of this Spanish
sombrero, Doctor Long Ghost, in this and his Roora, looked
like a mendicant grandee.

Nor was my own appearance in an Eastern turban less distinguished.
The way I came to wear it was this. My hat
having been knocked overboard, a few days before reaching
Papeetee, I was obliged to mount an abominable wad of particolored
worsted—what sailors call a Scotch cap. Every one
knows the elasticity of knit wool; and this Caledonian headdress
crowned my temples so effectually, that the confined atmosphere
engendered was prejudicial to my curls. In vain I
tried to ventilate the cap: every gash made, seemed to heal
whole in no time. Then such a continual chafing as it kept up
in a hot sun.

Seeing my dislike to the thing, Kooloo, my worthy friend,
prevailed upon me to bestow it upon him. I did so; hinting
that a good boiling might restore the original brilliancy of the
colors.

It was then that I mounted the turban. Taking a new
Regatta frock of the doctor's, which was of a gay calico, and
winding it round my head in folds, I allowed the sleeves to
droop behind—thus forming a good defense against the sun,

though in a shower it was best off. The pendent sleeves adding
much to the effect, the doctor always called me the Bashaw
with Two Tails.

Thus arrayed, we were ready for Tamai; in whose green
saloons, we counted upon creating no small sensation.

62. CHAPTER LXII.

Long before sunrise, the next morning, my sandals were laced
on, and the doctor had vaulted into Zeke's boots.

Expecting to see us again before we went to Taloo, the
planters wished us a pleasant journey; and, on parting, very
generously presented us with a pound or two of what sailors
call “plug” tobacco; telling us to cut it up into small change;
the Virginian weed being the principal circulating medium on
the island.

Tamai, we were told, was not more than three or four
leagues distant; so making allowances for a wild road, a few
hours to rest at noon, and our determination to take the journey
leisurely, we counted upon reaching the shores of the lake
some time in the flush of the evening.

For several hours we went on slowly through wood and ravine,
and over hill and precipice, seeing nothing but occasional
herds of wild cattle, and often resting; until we found ourselves,
about noon, in the very heart of the island.

It was a green, cool hollow among the mountains, into which
we at last descended with a bound. The place was gushing
with a hundred springs, and shaded over with great solemn
trees, on whose mossy boles the moisture stood in beads.
Strange to say, no traces of the bullocks ever having been here
were revealed. Nor was there a sound to be heard, nor a bird
to be seen, nor any breath of wind stirring the leaves. The utter
solitude and silence were oppressive; and after peering

about under the shades, and seeing nothing but ranks of dark,
motionless trunks, we hurried across the hollow, and ascended
a steep mountain opposite.

Midway up, we rested where the earth had gathered about
the roots of three palms, and thus formed a pleasant lounge,
from which we looked down upon the hollow, now one darkgreen
tuft of woodland at our feet. Here we brought forth a
small calabash of “poee,” a parting present from Tonoi. After
eating heartily, we obtained fire by two sticks, and throwing
ourselves back, puffed forth our fatigue in wreaths of smoke.
At last we fell asleep; nor did we waken till the sun had sunk
so low, that its rays darted in upon us under the foliage.

Starting up, we then continued our journey; and as we gained
the mountain top—there, to our surprise, lay the lake and
village of Tamai. We had thought it a good league off.
Where we stood, the yellow sunset was still lingering; but
over the valley below, long shadows were stealing—the rippling
green lake reflecting the houses and trees, just as they stood
along its banks. Several small canoes, moored here and there
to posts in the water, were dancing upon the waves; and
one solitary fisherman was paddling over to a grassy point. In
front of the houses, groups of natives were seen; some thrown
at full length upon the ground, and others indolently leaning
against the bamboos.

With whoop and halloo, we ran down the hills, the villagers
soon hurrying forth to see who were coming. As we drew near,
they gathered round, all curiosity to know what brought the
“karhowries” into their quiet country. The doctor contriving
to make them understand the purely social object of our visit,
they gave us a true Tahitian welcome; pointing into their
dwellings, and saying they were ours as long as we chose to
remain.

We were struck by the appearance of these people, both men

and women; so much more healthful than the inhabitants of the
bays. As for the young girls, they were more retiring and
modest, more tidy in their dress, and far fresher and more
beautiful than the damsels of the coast. A thousand pities,
thought I, that they should bury their charms in this nook of a
valley.

That night we abode in the house of Rartoo, a hospitable old
chief. It was right on the shore of the lake; and at supper,
we looked out through a rustling screen of foliage upon the
surface of the starlit water.

The next day we rambled about, and found a happy little
community, comparatively free from many deplorable evils to
which the rest of their countrymen are subject. Their time,
too, was more occupied. To my surprise, the manufacture of
tappa was going on in several buildings. European calicoes
were seldom seen, and not many articles of foreign origin of
any description.

The people of Tamai were nominally Christians; but being
so remote from ecclesiastical jurisdiction, their religion sat
lightly upon them. We had been told, even, that many heathenish
games and dances still secretly lingered in their valley.

Now the prospect of seeing an old-fashioned “hevar,” or
Tahitian reel, was one of the inducements which brought us
here; and so, finding Rartoo rather liberal in his religious
ideas, we disclosed our desire. At first, he demurred; and
shrugging his shoulders like a Frenchman, declared it could
not be brought about—was a dangerous matter to attempt,
and might bring all concerned into trouble. But we overcame
all this, convinced him that the thing could be done,
and a “hevar,” a genuine pagan fandango, was arranged for
that very night.

63. CHAPTER LXIII.

There were some ill-natured people—tell-tales—it seemed,
in Tamai; and hence there was a deal of mystery about getting
up the dance.

An hour or two before midnight, Rartoo entered the house,
and, throwing robes of tappa over us, bade us follow at a
distance behind him; and, until out of the village, hood our
faces. Keenly alive to the adventure, we obeyed. At last,
after taking a wide circuit, we came out upon the farthest
shore of the lake. It was a wide,dewy space; lighted up by a full
moon, and carpeted with a minute species of fern, growing
closely together. It swept right down to the water, showing
the village opposite, glistening among the groves.

Near the trees, on one side of the clear space, was a ruinous
pile of stones, many rods in extent; upon which had formerly
stood a temple of Oro. At present, there was nothing but a rude
hut, planted on the lowermost terrace. It seemed to have been
used as a “tappa herree;” or house for making the native cloth.

Here, we saw lights gleaming from between the bamboos,
and casting long, rod-like shadows upon the ground without.
Voices also were heard. We went up, and had a peep at the
dancers; who were getting ready for the ballet. They were
some twenty in number; waited upon by hideous old crones,
who might have been duennas. Long Ghost proposed to send
the latter packing; but Rartoo said it would never do, and so
they were permitted to remain.

We tried to effect an entrance at the door, which was
fastened; but, after a noisy discussion with one of the old
witches within, our guide became fidgety, and, at last, told us to
desist, or we would spoil all. He then led us off to a distance,
to await the performance; as the girls, he said, did not wish
to be recognized. He, furthermore, made us promise to remain
where we were, until all was over, and the dancers had
retired.

We waited impatiently; and, at last, they came forth. They
were arrayed in short tunics of white tappa; with garlands of
flowers on their heads. Following them, were the duennas,
who remained clustering about the house, while the girls advanced
a few paces; and, in an instant, two of them, taller
than their companions, were standing, side by side, in the
middle of a ring, formed by the clasped hands of the rest.
This movement was made in perfect silence.

Presently, the two girls join hands overhead; and, crying
out, “Ahloo! ahloo!” wave them to and fro. Upon which,
the ring begins to circle slowly; the dancers moving sideways,
with their arms a little drooping. Soon they quicken their
pace; and, at last, fly round and round: bosoms heaving, hair
streaming, flowers dropping, and every sparkling eye circling
in what seemed a line of light.

Meanwhile, the pair within are passing and repassing each
other incessantly. Inclining sideways, so that their long hair
falls far over, they glide this way and that; one foot continually
in the air, and their fingers thrown forth, and twirling in
the moonbeams.

“Ahloo! ahloo!” again cry the dance queens; and, coming
together in the middle of the ring, they once more lift up the
arch, and stand motionless.

“Ahloo! ahloo!” Every link of the circle is broken; and
the girls, deeply breathing, stand perfectly still. They pant

hard and fast, a moment or two; and then,just as the deep flush
is dying away from their faces, slowly recede, all round; thus
enlarging the ring.

Again the two leaders wave their hands, when the rest
pause; and now, far apart, stand in the still moonlight, like a
circle of fairies. Presently, raising a strange chant, they softly
sway themselves, gradually quickening the movement, until, at
length, for a few passionate moments, with throbbing bosoms
and glowing cheeks, they abandon themselves to all the spirit
of the dance, apparently lost to every thing around. But soon
subsiding again into the same languid measure, as before, they
become motionless; and then, reeling forward on all sides,
their eyes swimming in their heads, join in one wild chorus,
and sink into each other's arms.

Such is the Lory-Lory, I think they call it; the dance of the
backsliding girls of Tamai.

While it was going on, we had as much as we could do, to
keep the doctor from rushing forward and seizing a partner.

They would give us no more “hevars” that night; and
Rartoo fairly dragged us away to a canoe, hauled up on the
lake shore; when we reluctantly embarked, and, paddling over
to the village, arrived there in time for a good nap before
sunrise.

The next day, the doctor went about, trying to hunt up the
overnight dancers. He thought to detect them by their late
rising; but never was man more mistaken; for, on first sallying
out, the whole village was asleep, waking up in concert about
an hour after. But, in the course of the day, he came across
several, whom he at once charged with taking part in the
“hevar.” There were some prim-looking fellows standing by
(visiting elders from Afrehitoo, perhaps), and the girls looked
embarrassed; but parried the charge most skillfully.

Though soft as doves, in general, the ladies of Tamai are,

nevertheless, flavored with a slight tincture of what we queerly
enough call the “devil;” and they showed it on the present
occasion. For when the doctor pressed one rather hard, she
all at once turned round upon him, and, giving him a box on
the ear, told him to “hanree perrar!” (be off with himself.)

64. CHAPTER LXIV.

There was a little old man, of a most hideous aspect, living
in Tamai, who, in a coarse mantle of tappa, went about the
village, dancing, and singing, and making faces. He followed
us about, wherever we went; and, when unobserved by others,
plucked at our garments, making frightful signs for us to go
along with him somewhere, and see something.

It was in vain, that we tried to get rid of him. Kicks and
cuffs, even, were at last resorted to; but, though he howled
like one possessed, he would not go away, but still haunted us.
At last, we conjured the natives to rid us of him; but they only
laughed; so, we were forced to endure the dispensation as well
as we could.

On the fourth night of our visit, returning home late from
paying a few calls through the village, we turned a dark corner
of trees, and came full upon our goblin friend; as usual, chattering,
and motioning with his hands. The doctor, venting a
curse, hurried forward; but, from some impulse or other, I stood
my ground, resolved to find out what this unaccountable object
wanted of us. Seeing me pause, he crept close up to me,
peered into my face, and then retreated, beckoning me to
follow; which I did.

In a few moments the village was behind us; and with my
guide in advance, I found myself in the shadow of the heights
overlooking the farther side of the valley. Here, my guide

paused, until I came up with him; when, side by side, and
without speaking, we ascended the hill.

Presently, we came to a wretched hut, barely distinguishable
in the shade cast by the neighboring trees. Pushing aside a
rude, sliding door, held together with thongs, the goblin signed
me to enter. Within, it looked dark as pitch; so, I gave him
to understand that he must strike a light, and go in before me.
Without replying, he disappeared in the darkness; and, after
groping about, I heard two sticks rubbing together, and directly
saw a spark. A native taper was then lighted, and I stooped,
and entered.

It was a mere kennel. Foul old mats, and broken cocoa-nut
shells, and calabashes were strown about the floor of earth; and
overhead, I caught glimpses of the stars through chinks in the
roof. Here and there, the thatch had fallen through, and hung
down in wisps.

I now told him to set about what he was going to do,
or produce whatever he had to show without delay. Looking
round fearfully, as if dreading a surprise, he commenced
turning over and over the rubbish in one corner. At last,
he clutched a calabash, stained black, and with the neck
broken off; on one side of it was a large hole. Something
seemed to be stuffed away in the vessel; and after
a deal of poking at the aperture, a musty old pair of sailor
trowsers was drawn forth; and, holding them up eagerly,
he inquired, how many pieces of tobacco I would give for
them.

Without replying, I hurried away; the old man chasing me,
and shouting as I ran, until I gained the village. Here, I dodged
him, and made my way home, resolved never to disclose so inglorious
an adventure.

To no purpose, the next morning, my comrade besought me
to enlighten him: I preserved a mysterious silence.

The occurrence served me a good turn, however, so long as
we abode in Tamai; for the old clothesman never afterward
troubled me; but forever haunted the doctor, who, in vain,
supplicated Heaven to be delivered from him.

65. CHAPTER LXV.

“I SAY, doctor,” cried I, a few days after my adventure with
the goblin, as, in the absence of our host, we were one morning
lounging upon the matting in his dwelling, smoking our reed
pipes, “Tamai's a thriving place; why not settle down?”

“Faith!” said he, “not a bad idea, Paul. But do you fancy
they'll let us stay, though?”

“Why, certainly: they would be overjoyed to have a couple
of karhowrees for townsmen.”

“Gad! you're right, my pleasant fellow. Ha! ha! I'll put
up a banana-leaf as physician from London—deliver lectures
on Polynesian antiquities—teach English in five lessons, of one
hour each—establish power-looms for the manufacture of tappa
—lay out a public park in the middle of the village, and found
a festival in honor of Captain Cook!”

“But, surely, not without stopping to take breath,” observed I.

The doctor's projects, to be sure, were of a rather visionary
cast; but we seriously thought, nevertheless, of prolonging our
stay in the valley for an indefinite period; and, with this understanding,
we were turning over various plans for spending
our time pleasantly, when several women came running
into the house, and hurriedly besought us to heree! heree!
(make our escape), crying out something about the mickonarees.

Thinking that we were about to be taken up under the act
for the suppression of vagrancy, we flew out of the house, sprang

into a canoe before the door, and paddled with might and main
over to the opposite side of the lake.

Approaching Rartoo's dwelling, was a great crowd, among
which we perceived several natives, who, from their partly
European dress, we were certain did not reside in Tamai.

Plunging into the groves, we thanked our stars that we had
thus narrowly escaped being apprehended as runaway seamen,
and marched off to the beach. This, at least, was what we
thought we had escaped.

Having fled the village, we could not think of prowling about
its vicinity, and then returning; in doing so, we might be risking
our liberty again. We therefore determined upon journeying
back to Martair; and setting our faces thitherward, we
reached the planters' house about nightfall. They gave us a
cordial reception, and a hearty supper; and we sat up talking
until a late hour.

We now prepared to go round to Taloo, a place from which
we were not far off when at Tamai; but wishing to see as much
of the island as we could, we preferred returning to Martair,
and then going round by way of the beach.

Taloo, the only frequented harbor of Imeeo, lies on the western
side of the island, almost directly over against Martair.
Upon one shore of the bay stands the village of Partoowye, a
missionary station. In its vicinity is an extensive sugar plantation—the
best in the South Seas, perhaps—worked by a person
from Sydney.

The patrimonial property of the husband of Pomaree, and
every way a delightful retreat, Partoowye was one of the occasional
residences of the court. But at the time I write of, it
was permanently fixed there, the queen having fled thither from
Tahiti.

Partoowye, they told us, was, by no means, the place Papeetee
was. Ships seldom touched, and very few foreigners were

living ashore. A solitary whaler, however, was reported to be
lying in the harbor, wooding and watering, and said to be in
want of men.

All things considered, I could not help looking upon Taloo
as offering “a splendid opening” for us adventurers. To say
nothing of the facilities presented for going to sea in the whaler,
or hiring ourselves out as day laborers in the sugar plantation,
there were hopes to be entertained of being promoted to some
office of high trust and emolument, about the person of her
majesty, the queen.

Nor was this expectation altogether Quixotic. In the train
of many Polynesian princes, roving whites are frequently found:
gentlemen pensioners of state, basking in the tropical sunshine
of the court, and leading the pleasantest lives in the world.
Upon islands little visited by foreigners, the first seaman that
settles down, is generally domesticated in the family of the
head chief or king; where he frequently discharges the functions
of various offices, elsewhere filled by as many different
individuals. As historiographer, for instance, he gives the natives
some account of distant countries; as commissioner of the
arts and sciences, he instructs them in the use of the jackknife,
and the best way of shaping bits of iron hoop into spearheads;
and as interpreter to his majesty, he facilitates intercourse with
strangers; besides instructing the people generally in the uses
of the most common English phrases, civil and profane; but
oftener the latter.

These men generally marry well; often—like Hardy of
Hannamanoo—into the blood royal.

Sometimes they officiate as personal attendant, or First Lord
in Waiting, to the king. At Amboi, one of the Tonga Islands,
a vagabond Welshman bends his knee as cupbearer to his
cannibal majesty. He mixes his morning cup of “arva,” and,
with profound genuflections, presents it in a cocoa-nut bowl,

richly carved. Upon another island of the same group, where
it is customary to bestow no small pains in dressing the hair—
frizzing it out by a curious process, into an enormous Pope'shead—an
old man-of-war's-man fills the post of barber to the
king. And as his majesty is not very neat, his mop is exceedingly
populous; so that, when Jack is not engaged in dressing
the head intrusted to his charge, he busies himself in gently
titillating it—a sort of skewer being actually worn about in the
patient's hair for that special purpose.

Even upon the Sandwich Islands, a low rabble of foreigners
is kept about the person of Tammahammaha, for the purpose
of ministering to his ease or enjoyment.

Billy Loon, a jolly little negro, tricked out in a soiled blue
jacket, studded all over with rusty bell-buttons, and garnished
with shabby gold lace, is the royal drummer and pounder of
the tambourine. Joe, a wooden-legged Portuguese, who lost his
leg by a whale, is violinist; and Mordecai, as he is called, a
villainous-looking scamp, going about with his cups and balls
in a side pocket, diverts the court with his jugglery. These
idle rascals receive no fixed salary, being altogether dependent
upon the casual bounty of their master. Now and then they
run up a score at the Dance Houses in Honolulu, where the
illustrious Tammahammaha III. afterward calls and settles the
bill.

A few years since, an auctioneer to his majesty, came near
being added to the retinue of state. It seems that he was the
first man who had practiced his vocation on the Sandwich Islands;
and delighted with the sport of bidding upon his wares,
the king was one of his best customers. At last he besought
the man to leave all and follow him, and he should be handsomely
provided for at court. But the auctioneer refused; and
so the ivory hammer lost the chance of being borne before him
on a velvet cushion, when the next king went to be crowned.

But it was not as strolling players, nor as footmen out of employ,
that the doctor and myself looked forward to our approaching
introduction to the court of the Queen of Tahiti. On the
contrary, as before hinted we expected to swell the appropriations
of bread-fruit and cocoa-nuts on the Civil List, by filling
some honorable office in her gift.

We were told, that to resist the usurpation of the French,
the queen was rallying about her person all the foreigners she
could. Her partiality for the English and Americans was well
known; and this was an additional ground for our anticipating
a favorable reception. Zeke had informed us, moreover, that
by the queen's counselors at Partoowye, a war of aggression
against the invaders at Papeetee had been seriously thought of.
Should this prove true, a surgeon's commission for the doctor,
and a lieutenancy for myself, were certainly counted upon in
our sanguine expectations.

Such, then, were our views, and such our hopes in projecting
a trip to Taloo. But in our most lofty aspirations, we by no
means lost sight of any minor matters which might help us to
promotion. The doctor had informed me, that he excelled in
playing the fiddle. I now suggested, that as soon as we arrived
at Partoowye, we should endeavor to borrow a violin for him;
or if this could not be done, that he should manufacture some
kind of a substitute, and thus equipped, apply for an audience
of the queen. Her well known passion for music would at once
secure his admittance; and so, under the most favorable auspices,
bring about our introduction to her notice.

“And who knows,” said my waggish comrade, throwing his
head back, and performing an imaginary air by briskly drawing
one arm across the other, “who knows, that I may not fiddle
myself into her majesty's good graces, so as to become a
sort of Rizzio to the Tahitian princess.”

66. CHAPTER LXVI.

The inglorious circumstances of our somewhat premature
departure from Tamai, filled the sagacious doctor, and myself,
with sundry misgivings for the future.

Under Zeke's protection, we were secure from all impertinent
interference in our concerns, on the part of the natives.
But as friendless wanderers over the island, we ran the risk of
being apprehended as runaways, and as such, sent back to Tahiti.
The truth is, that the rewards constantly offered for the
apprehension of deserters from ships, induce some of the natives
to eye all strangers suspiciously.

A passport was therefore desirable; but such a thing had
never been heard of in Imeeo. At last, Long Ghost suggested,
that as the Yankee was well known, and much respected all
over the island, we should endeavor to obtain from him some
sort of paper, not only certifying to our having been in his employ,
but also to our not being highwaymen, kidnappers, nor
yet runaway seamen. Even written in English, a paper like
this would answer every purpose; for the unlettered natives,
standing in great awe of the document, would not dare to molest
us until acquainted with its purport. Then, if it came to
the worst, we might repair to the nearest missionary, and have
the passport explained.

Upon informing Zeke of these matters, he seemed highly flattered
with the opinion we entertained of his reputation abroad;
and he agreed to oblige us. The doctor at once offered to furnish

him with a draught of the paper; but he refused, saying
he would write it himself. With a rooster's quill, therefore, a
bit of soiled paper, and a stout heart, he set to work. Evidently,
he was not accustomed to composition; for his literary
throes were so violent, that the doctor suggested that some sort
of a Cæsarian operation might be necessary.

The precious paper was at last finished; and a great curiosity
it was. We were much diverted with his reasons for not dating
it.

“In this here dumned climmate,” he observed, “a feller can't
keep the run of the months, no how; cause there's no seasons;
no summer and winter, to go by. One's etarnally thinkin' it's
always July, it's so pesky hot.”

A passport provided, we cast about for some means of getting
to Taloo.

The island of Imeeo is very nearly surrounded by a regular
breakwater of coral, extending within a mile or less of the shore.
The smooth canal within, furnishes the best means of communication
with the different settlements; all of which, with the
exception of Tamai, are right upon the water. And so indolent
are the Imeeose, that they think nothing of going twenty
or thirty miles round the island in a canoe, in order to reach a
place not a quarter of that distance by land. But as hinted before,
the fear of the bullocks has something to do with this.

The idea of journeying in a canoe struck our fancy quite
pleasantly; and we at once set about chartering one, if possible.
But none could we obtain. For not only did we have
nothing to pay for hiring one, but we could not expect to have
it loaned; inasmuch as the good-natured owner would, in all
probability, have to walk along the beach as we paddled, in
order to bring back his property when we had no further use
for it.

At last, it was decided to commence our journey on foot;

trusting that we would soon fall in with a canoe going our way,
in which we might take passage.

The planters said we would find no beaten path:—all we
had to do was to follow the beach; and however inviting it
might look inland, on no account must we stray from it. In
short, the longest way round was the nearest way to Taloo.
At intervals, there were little hamlets along the shore, besides
lonely fishermen's huts here and there, where we could get
plenty to eat without pay; so there was no necessity to lay in
any store.

Intending to be off before sunrise the next morning, so as to
have the benefit of the coolest part of the day, we bade our kind
hosts farewell, overnight; and then, repairing to the beach, we
lanched our floating pallet, and slept away merrily till dawn.

67. CHAPTER LXVII.

It was on the fourth day of the first month of the Hegira, or
Flight from Tamai (we now reckoned our time thus), that, rising
bright and early, we were up and away out of the valley of
Martair, before the fishermen even were stirring.

It was the earliest dawn. The morning only showed itself
along the lower edge of a bank of purple clouds, pierced by the
misty peaks of Tahiti. The tropical day seemed too languid
to rise. Sometimes, starting fitfully, it decked the clouds with
faint edgings of pink and gray, which, fading away, left all dim
again. Anon, it threw out thin, pale rays, growing lighter and
lighter, until at last, the golden morning sprang out of the East
with a bound—darting its bright beams hither and thither,
higher and higher, and sending them, broadcast, over the face of
the heavens.

All balmy from the groves of Tahiti, came an indolent air,
cooled by its transit over the waters; and grateful under foot,
was the damp and slightly yielding beach, from which the waves
seemed just retired.

The doctor was in famous spirits; removing his Roora, he
went splashing into the sea; and, after swimming a few yards,
waded ashore, hopping, skipping, and jumping along the beach;
but very careful to cut all his capers in the direction of our
journey.

Say what they will of the glowing independence one feels in

the saddle, give me the first morning flush of your cheery pedestrian!

Thus exhilarated, we went on, as light-hearted and care-free,
as we could wish.

And here, I can not refrain from lauding the very superior inducements
which most intertropical countries afford, not only
to mere rovers like ourselves, but to penniless people, generally.
In these genial regions, one's wants are naturally diminished;
and those which remain are easily gratified: fuel, house-shelter,
and, if you please, clothing, may be entirely dispensed with.

How different, our hard northern latitudes! Alas! the lot
of a “poor devil,” twenty degrees north of the tropic of Cancer,
is indeed pitiable.

At last, the beach contracted to hardly a yard's width, and
the dense thicket almost dipped into the sea. In place of the
smooth sand, too, we had sharp fragments of broken coral,
which made traveling exceedingly unpleasant. “Lord! my
foot!” roared the doctor, fetching it up for inspection, with a
galvanic fling of the limb. A sharp splinter had thrust itself
into the flesh, through a hole in his boot. My sandals were
worse yet; their soles taking a sort of fossil impression of every
thing trod upon.

Turning round a bold sweep of the beach, we came upon a
piece of fine, open ground, with a fisherman's dwelling in the
distance, crowning a knoll which rolled off into the water.

The hut proved to be a low, rude erection, very recently
thrown up; for the bamboos were still green as grass, and the
thatching, fresh and fragrant as meadow hay. It was open upon
three sides; so that, upon drawing near, the domestic arrangements
within were in plain sight. No one was stirring; and
nothing was to be seen but a clumsy old chest of native workmanship,
a few calabashes, and bundles of tappa hanging against
a post; and a heap of something, we knew not what, in a dark

corner. Upon close inspection, the doctor discovered it to be
a loving old couple, locked in each other's arms, and rolled
together in a tappa mantle.

“Halloa! Darby!” he cried, shaking the one with a beard.
But Darby heeded him not; though Joan, a wrinkled old body,
started up in affright, and yelled aloud. Neither of us attempting
to gag her, she presently became quiet; and after staring
hard, and asking some unintelligible questions, she proceeded
to rouse her still slumbering mate.

What ailed him, we could not tell; but there was no waking
him. Equally in vain were all his dear spouse's cuffs, pinches,
and other endearments; he lay like a log, face up, and snoring
away like a cavalry trumpeter.

“Here, my good woman,” said Long Ghost, “just let me
try;” and, taking the patient right by his nose, he so lifted him
bodily, into a sitting position, and held him there until his eyes
opened. When this event came to pass, Darby looked round
like one stupefied; and then, springing to his feet, backed away
into a corner, from which place, we became the objects of his
earnest and respectful attention.

“Permit me, my dear Darby, to introduce to you my esteemed
friend and comrade, Paul,” said the doctor, gallanting
me up with all the grimace and flourish imaginable. Upon
this, Darby began to recover his faculties, and surprised
us not a little, by talking a few words of English. So far as
could be understood, they were expressive of his having been
aware, that there were two “karhowrees” in the neighborhood;
that he was glad to see us, and would have something for us to
eat in no time.

How he came by his English, was explained to us before we
left. Some time previous, he had been a denizen of Papeetee,
where the native language is broidered over with the most
classic sailor phrases. He seemed to be quite proud of his residence

there; and alluded to it, in the same significant way, in
which a provincial informs you, that in his time he has resided
in the capital. The old fellow was disposed to be garrulous;
but being sharp-set, we told him to get breakfast; after which
we would hear his anecdotes. While employed among the
calabashes, the strange, antiquated fondness between these
old semi-savages was really amusing. I made no doubt, that
they were saying to each other, “yes, my love”—“no, my life,”
just in the same way that some young couples do, at home.

They gave us a hearty meal; and while we were discussing
its merits, they assured us, over and over again, that they expected
nothing in return for their attentions; more: we were
at liberty to stay as long as we pleased; and as long as we did
stay, their house and every thing they had, was no longer theirs,
but ours; still more: they themselves were our slaves—the old
lady, to a degree that was altogether superfluous. This, now,
is Tahitian hospitality! Self-immolation upon one's own hearth-stone
for the benefit of the guest.

The Polynesians carry their hospitality to an amazing extent.
Let a native of Waiurar, the westernmost part of Tahiti, make
his appearance as a traveler at Partoowye, the most easternly
village of Imeeo; though a perfect stranger, the inhabitants on
all sides accost him at their doorways, inviting him to enter, and
make himself at home. But the traveler passes on, examining
every house attentively; until at last, he pauses before one
which suits him, and then exclaiming, “ah, ena maitai” (this
one will do, I think), he steps in, and makes himself perfectly
at ease; flinging himself upon the mats, and very probably calling
for a nice young cocoa-nut, and a piece of toasted bread-fruit,
sliced thin, and done brown.

Curious to relate, however, should a stranger carrying it thus
bravely, be afterward discovered to be without a house of his
own, why, he may thenceforth go a-begging for his lodgings.

The “karhowrees,” or white men, are exceptions to this rule.
Thus is it precisely as in civilized countries; where those who
have houses and lands, are incessantly bored to death with invitations
to come and live in other people's houses; while many
a poor gentleman who inks the seams of his coat, and to whom
the like invitation would be really acceptable, may go and sue
for it. But to the credit of the ancient Tahitians, it should here
be observed, that this blemish upon their hospitality is only of
recent origin, and was wholly unknown in old times. So told
me, Captain Bob.

In Polynesia, it is esteemed “a great hit,” if a man succeed
in marrying into a family, to which the best part of the community
is related (Heaven knows it is otherwise with us). The
reason is, that when he goes a-traveling, the greater number of
houses are the more completely at his service.

Receiving a paternal benediction from old Darby and Joan,
we continued our journey; resolved to stop at the very next
place of attraction which offered.

Nor did we long stroll for it. A fine walk along a beach of
shells, and we came to a spot, where, with trees here and there,
the land was all meadow, sloping away to the water, which
stirred a sedgy growth of reeds bordering its margin. Close
by, was a little cove, walled in with coral, where a fleet of
canoes was dancing up and down. A few paces distant, on a
natural terrace overlooking the sea, were several native dwellings,
newly thatched, and peeping into view out of the foliage,
like summer-houses.

As we drew near, forth came a burst of voices; and presently,
three gay girls, overflowing with life, health, and youth; and
full of spirits and mischief. One was arrayed in a flaunting
robe of calico; and her long black hair was braided behind
in two immense tresses, joined together at the ends, and
wreathed with the green tendrils of a vine. From her self-possessed

and forward air, I fancied she might be some young
lady from Papeetee, on a visit to her country relations. Her
companions wore mere slips of cotton cloth; their hair was disheveled;
and though very pretty, they betrayed the reserve and
embarrassment, characteristic of the provinces.

The little gipsy first mentioned, ran up to me with great
cordiality; and giving the Tahitian salutation, opened upon me
such a fire of questions, that there was no understanding, much
less answering them. But our hearty welcome to Loohooloo,
as she called the hamlet, was made plain enough. Meanwhile,
Doctor Long Ghost gallantly presented an arm to each of the
other young ladies; which, at first, they knew not what to make
of; but at last, taking it for some kind of joke, accepted the
civility.

The names of these three damsels were at once made known
by themselves; and being so exceedingly romantic, I can not
forbear particularizing them. Upon my comrade's arms, then,
were hanging Night and Morning, in the persons of Farnowar,
or the Day-Born, and Farnoopoo, or the Night-Born. She
with the tresses, was very appropriately styled Marhar-Rarrar,
the Wakeful, or Bright-Eyed.

By this time, the houses were emptied of the rest of their
inmates—a few old men and women, and several strapping
young fellows rubbing their eyes and yawning. All crowded
round, putting questions as to whence we came. Upon being
informed of our acquaintance with Zeke, they were delighted;
and one of them recognized the boots worn by the doctor.
“Keekee (Zeke) maitai,” they cried, “nuee nuee hanna hanna
portarto”—(makes plenty of potatoes).

There was now a little friendly altercation, as to who should
have the honor of entertaining the strangers. At last, a tall
old gentleman, by name Marharvai, with a bald head and white
beard, took us each by the hand, and led us into his dwelling.

Once inside, Marharvai, pointing about with his staff, was so
obsequious in assuring us that his house was ours, that Long
Ghost suggested, he might as well hand over the deed.

It was drawing near noon; so after a light lunch of roasted
bread-fruit, a few whiffs of a pipe, and some lively chatting, our
host admonished the company to lie down, and take the everlasting
siesta. We complied; and had a social nap all round.

68. CHAPTER LXVIII.

It was just in the middle of the merry, mellow afternoon,
that they ushered us to dinner, underneath a green shelter of
palm boughs; open all round, and so low at the eaves, that we
stooped to enter.

Within, the ground was strewn over with aromatic ferns—
called “nahee”—freshly gathered; which, stirred under foot,
diffused the sweetest odor. On one side was a row of yellow
mats, inwrought with fibres of bark, stained a bright red.
Here, seated after the fashion of the Turk, we looked out, over
a verdant bank, upon the mild, blue, endless Pacific. So far
round had we skirted the island, that the view of Tahiti was
now intercepted.

Upon the ferns before us, were laid several layers of broad,
thick “pooroo” leaves; lapping over, one upon the other.
And upon these were placed, side by side, newly plucked
banana leaves, at least two yards in length, and very wide;
the stalks were withdrawn, so as to make them lie flat. This
green cloth was set out and garnished, in the manner following:—

First, a number of “pooroo” leaves, by way of plates, were
ranged along on one side; and by each was a rustic nut-bowl,
half-filled with sea-water, and a Tahitian roll, or small bread-fruit,
roasted brown. An immense flat calabash, placed in the
centre, was heaped up with numberless small packages of
moist, steaming leaves: in each was a small fish, baked in the

earth, and done to a turn. This pyramid of a dish, was flanked
on either side by an ornamental calabash. One was brimming
with the golden-hued “poee,” or pudding, made from the red
plantain of the mountains: the other was stacked up with
cakes of the Indian turnip, previously macerated in a mortar,
kneaded with the milk of the cocoa-nut, and then baked. In
the spaces between the three dishes, were piled young cocoa-nuts,
stripped of their husks. Their eyes had been opened and
enlarged; so that each was a ready-charged goblet.

There was a sort of side-cloth in one corner, upon which, in
bright, buff jackets, lay the fattest of bananas; “avees,” red-ripe;
guavas, with the shadows of their crimson pulp flushing
through a transparent skin, and almost coming and going there
like blushes; oranges, tinged, here and there, berry-brown;
and great, jolly melons, which rolled about in very portliness.
Such a heap! All ruddy, ripe, and round—bursting with the
good cheer of the tropical soil, from which they sprang!

“A land of orchards!” cried the doctor, in a rapture; and
he snatched a morsel from a sort of fruit of which gentlemen
of the sanguine temperament are remarkably fond; namely,
the ripe cherry lips of Miss Day-Born, who stood looking on.

Marharvai allotted seats to his guests; and the meal began.
Thinking that his hospitality needed some acknowledgment, I
rose, and pledged him in the vegetable wine of the cocoa-nut;
merely repeating the ordinary salutation, “Yar onor boyoee.”
Sensible that some compliment, after the fashion of white
men, was paid him, with a smile, and a courteous flourish
of the hand, he bade me be seated. No people, however
refined, are more easy and graceful in their manners than the
Imeeose.

The doctor, sitting next our host, now came under his
special protection. Laying before his guest one of the packages
of fish, Marharvai opened it; and commended its contents

to his particular regards. But my comrade was one of those,
who, on convivial occasions, can always take care of themselves.
He ate an indefinite number of “Pehee Lee Lees” (small
fish), his own and next neighbor's bread-fruit; and helped
himself, to right and left, with all the ease of an accomplished
diner-out.

“Paul,” said he, at last, “you don't seem to be getting along;
why don't you try the pepper sauce?” and, by way of example,
he steeped a morsel of food into his nutful of sea-water.
On following suit, I found it quite piquant, though
rather bitter; but, on the whole, a capital substitute for salt.
The Imeeose invariably use sea-water in this way, deeming it
quite a treat; and considering that their country is surrounded
by an ocean of catsup, the luxury can not be deemed an expensive
one.

The fish were delicious; the manner of cooking them in the
ground, preserving all the juices, and rendering them exceedingly
sweet and tender. The plantain pudding was almost
cloying; the cakes of Indian turnip, quite palatable; and the
roasted bread-fruit, crisp as toast.

During the meal, a native lad walked round and round the
party; carrying a long staff of bamboo. This he occasionally
tapped upon the cloth, before each guest; when a white clotted
substance dropped forth, with a savor not unlike that of a
curd. This proved to be “Lownee,” an excellent relish, prepared
from the grated meat of ripe cocoa-nuts, moistened with
cocoa-nut milk and salt water, and kept perfectly tight, until a
little past the saccharine stage of fermentation.

Throughout the repast there was much lively chatting among
the islanders, in which their conversational powers quite exceeded
ours. The young ladies, too, showed themselves very
expert in the use of their tongues, and contributed much to the
gayety which prevailed.

Nor did these lively nymphs suffer the meal to languish; for
upon the doctor's throwing himself back, with an air of much
satisfaction, they sprang to their feet, and pelted him with
oranges and guavas. This, at last, put an end to the entertainment.

By a hundred whimsical oddities, my long friend became
a great favorite with these people; and they bestowed upon
him a long, comical title, expressive of his lank figure and
Roora combined. The latter, by the by, never failed to excite
the remark of every body we encountered.

The giving of nicknames is quite a passion with the people
of Tahiti and Imeeo. No one, with any peculiarity, whether
of person or temper, is exempt; not even strangers.

A pompous captain of a man-of-war, visiting Tahiti for the
second time, discovered that, among the natives, he went by the
dignified title of “Atee Poee”—literally, Poee Head, or Pudding
Head. Nor is the highest rank among themselves any
protection. The first husband of the present queen was commonly
known in the court circles, as “Pot Belly.” He carried
the greater part of his person before him, to be sure; and so
did the gentlemanly George IV.—but what a title for a king
consort!

Even “Pomaree” itself, the royal patronymic, was, originally,
a mere nickname; and literally signifies, one talking
through his nose. The first monarch of that name, being on
a war party, and sleeping overnight among the mountains,
awoke one morning with a cold in his head; and some wag
of a courtier, had no more manners than to vulgarize him
thus.

How different from the volatile Polynesian in this, as in all
other respects, is our grave and decorous North American
Indian. While the former bestows a name, in accordance
with some humorous or ignoble trait, the latter seizes upon

what is deemed the most exalted or warlike: and hence,
among the red tribes, we have the truly patrician appellations
of “White Eagles,” “Young Oaks,” “Fiery Eyes,” and
“Bended Bows.”

69. CHAPTER LXIX.

While the doctor and the natives were taking a digestive
nap after dinner, I strolled forth to have a peep at the country,
which could produce so generous a meal.

To my surprise, a fine strip of land in the vicinity of the hamlet,
and protected seaward by a grove of cocoa-nut and bread-fruit
trees, was under high cultivation. Sweet potatoes, Indian
turnips, and yams were growing; also melons, a few pine-apples,
and other fruits. Still more pleasing was the sight, of
young bread-fruit and cocoa-nut trees set out with great care,
as if, for once, the improvident Polynesian had thought of his
posterity. But this was the only instance of native thrift which
ever came under my observation. For, in all my rambles over
Tahiti and Imeeo, nothing so much struck me as the comparative
scarcity of these trees in many places where they ought to
abound. Entire valleys, like Martair, of inexhaustible fertility,
are abandoned to all the rankness of untamed vegetation. Alluvial
flats bordering the sea, and watered by streams from the
mountains, are overgrown with a wild, scrub guava-bush, introduced
by foreigners, and which spreads with such fatal rapidity,
that the natives, standing still while it grows, anticipate its
covering the entire island. Even tracts of clear land, which,
with so little pains, might be made to wave with orchards, lie
wholly neglected.

When I considered their unequaled soil and climate, thus

unaccountably slighted, I often turned in amazement upon the
natives about Papeetee; some of whom all but starve in their
gardens run to waste. Upon other islands which I have
visited, of similar fertility, and wholly unreclaimed from their
first discovered condition, no spectacle of this sort was presented.

The high estimation in which many of their fruit-trees are
held by the Tahitians and Imeeose—their beauty in the landscape—their
manifold uses, and the facility with which they are
propagated, are considerations which render the remissness
alluded to still more unaccountable. The cocoa-palm is as an
example; a tree by far the most important production of Nature
in the Tropics. To the Polynesian, it is emphatically the
Tree of Life; transcending even the bread-fruit in the multifarious
uses to which it is applied.

Its very aspect is imposing. Asserting its supremacy by an
erect and lofty bearing, it may be said to compare with other
trees, as man with inferior creatures.

The blessings it confers are incalculable. Year after year,
the islander reposes beneath its shade, both eating and drinking
of its fruit; he thatches his hut with its boughs, and weaves
them into baskets to carry his food; he cools himself with a
fan platted from the young leaflets, and shields his head from
the sun by a bonnet of the leaves; sometimes he clothes himself
with the cloth-like substance which wraps round the base
of the stalks, whose elastic rods, strung with filberts, are used
as a taper; the larger nuts, thinned and polished, furnish him
with a beautiful goblet: the smaller ones, with bowls for his
pipes; the dry husks kindle his fires; their fibres are twisted
into fishing-lines and cords for his canoes; he heals his wounds
with a balsam compounded from the juice of the nut; and
with the oil extracted from its meat, embalms the bodies of the
dead.

The noble trunk itself is far from being valueless. Sawn into
posts, it upholds the islander's dwelling; converted into charcoal,
it cooks his food; and supported on blocks of stone, rails in his
lands. He impels his canoe through the water with a paddle of
the wood, and goes to battle with clubs and spears of the same
hard material.

In pagan Tahiti a cocoa-nut branch was the symbol of regal
authority. Laid upon the sacrifice in the temple, it made the
offering sacred; and with it, the priests chastised and put to
flight the evil spirits which assailed them. The supreme majesty
of Oro, the great god of their mythology, was declared in
the cocoa-nut log from which his image was rudely carved.
Upon one of the Tonga Islands, there stands a living tree, revered
itself as a deity. Even upon the Sandwich Islands, the
cocoa-palm retains all its ancient reputation; the people there
having thought of adopting it as the national emblem.

The cocoa-nut is planted as follows: Selecting a suitable
place, you drop into the ground a fully ripe nut, and leave it.
In a few days, a thin, lance-like shoot forces itself through a
minute hole in the shell, pierces the husk, and soon unfolds
three pale-green leaves in the air; while originating, in the
same soft white sponge which now completely fills the nut, a
pair of fibrous roots, pushing away the stoppers which close two
holes in an opposite direction, penetrate the shell, and strike
vertically into the ground. A day or two more, and the shell
and husk, which, in the last and germinating stage of the nut,
are so hard that a knife will scarcely make any impression,
spontaneously burst by some force within; and, henceforth, the
hardy young plant thrives apace; and needing no culture, pruning,
or attention of any sort, rapidly advances to maturity. In
four or five years it bears; in twice as many more, it begins
to lifts its head among the groves, where, waxing strong, it
flourishes for near a century.

Thus, as some voyager has said, the man who but drops one
of these nuts into the ground, may be said to confer a greater,
and more certain benefit upon himself and posterity, than many
a life's toil in less genial climes.

The fruitfulness of the tree is remarkable. As long as it
lives, it bears; and without intermission. Two hundred nuts,
besides innumerable white blossoms of others, may be seen
upon it at one time; and though a whole year is required to
bring any one of them to the germinating point, no two, perhaps,
are at one time in precisely the same stage of growth.

The tree delights in a maritime situation. In its greatest
perfection, it is perhaps found right on the sea-shore, where its
roots are actually washed. But such instances are only met
with upon islands where the swell of the sea is prevented from
breaking on the beach by an encircling reef. No saline flavor is
perceptible in the nut produced in such a place. Although it
bears in any soil, whether upland or bottom, it does not flourish
vigorously inland; and I have frequently observed, that
when met with far up the valleys, its tall stem inclines seaward,
as if pining after a more genial region.

It is a curious fact, that if you deprive the cocoa-nut tree of
the verdant tuft at its head, it dies at once; and if allowed to
stand thus, the trunk, which, when alive, is encased in so hard
a bark, as to be almost impervious to a bullet, molders away,
and, in an incredibly short period, becomes dust. This is,
perhaps, partly owing to the peculiar constitution of the trunk,
a mere cylinder of minute hollow reeds, closely packed, and
very hard; but when exposed at top, peculiarly fitted to convey
moisture and decay through the entire stem.

The finest orchard of cocoa-palms I know, and the only
plantation of them I ever saw at the islands, is one that stands
right upon the southern shore of Papeetee Bay. They were
set out by the first Pomaree, almost half-a-century ago; and

the soil being especially adapted to their growth, the noble
trees now form a magnificent grove, nearly a mile in extent.
No other plant, scarcely a bush, is to be seen within its precincts.
The Broom Road passes through its entire length.

At noonday, this grove is one of the most beautiful, serene,
witching places that ever was seen. High overhead, are ranges
of green rustling arches; through which the sun's rays come
down to you in sparkles. You seem to be wandering through
illimitable halls of pillars; everywhere you catch glimpses of
stately aisles, intersecting each other at all points. A strange
silence, too, reigns far and near; the air, flushed with the
mellow stillness of a sunset.

But after the long morning calms, the sea-breeze comes in;
and creeping over the tops of these thousand trees, they nod
their plumes. Soon the breeze freshens; and you hear the
branches brushing against each other; and the flexible trunks
begin to sway. Toward evening, the whole grove is rocking
to and fro; and the traveler on the Broom Road is startled by
the frequent falling of the nuts, snapped from their brittle
stems. They come flying through the air, ringing like jugglers'
balls; and often bound along the ground for many rods.

70. CHAPTER LXX.

Finding the society at Loohooloo very pleasant, the young
ladies, in particular, being extremely sociable; and, moreover,
in love with the famous good cheer of old Marharvai, we acquiesced
in an invitation of his, to tarry a few days longer.
We might then, he said, join a small canoe party, which was
going to a place a league or two distant. So averse to all
exertion are these people, that they really thought the prospect
of thus getting rid of a few miles' walking, would prevail with
us, even if there were no other inducement.

The people of the hamlet, as we soon discovered, formed a
snug little community of cousins; of which our host seemed
the head. Marharvai, in truth, was a petty chief, who owned
the neighboring lands. And as the wealthy, in most cases,
rejoice in a numerous kindred, the family footing upon which
every body visited him, was, perhaps, ascribable to the fact, of
his being the lord of the manor. Like Captain Bob, he was, in
some things, a gentleman of the old school—a stickler for the
customs of a past and pagan age.

Nowhere else, except in Tamai, did we find the manners
of the natives less vitiated by recent changes. The old-fashioned
Tahitian dinner they gave us on the day of our
arrival, was a fair sample of their general mode of living.

Our time passed delightfully. The doctor went his way, and
I mine. With a pleasant companion, he was forever strolling

inland, ostensibly to collect botanical specimens; while I, for
the most part, kept near the sea; sometimes taking the girls an
aquatic excursion in a canoe.

Often we went fishing; not dozing over stupid hooks and
lines, but leaping right into the water, and chasing our prey
over the coral rocks, spear in hand.

Spearing fish is glorious sport. The Imeeose, all round the
island, catch them in no other way. The smooth shallows between
the reef and the shore, and, at low water, the reef itself,
being admirably adapted to this mode of capturing them. At
almost any time of the day—save ever the sacred hour of noon
—you may see the fish-hunters pursuing their sport; with loud
halloos, brandishing their spears, and splashing through the
water in all directions. Sometimes a solitary native is seen,
far out upon a lonely shallow, wading slowly along, with eye
intent and poised spear.

But the best sport of all, is going out upon the great reef itself,
by torch-light. The natives follow this recreation with as
much spirit as a gentleman of England does the chase; and
take full as much delight in it.

The torch is nothing more than a bunch of dry reeds, bound
firmly together: the spear, a long, light pole, with an iron
head, on one side barbed.

I shall never forget the night, that old Marharvai and the
rest of us, paddling off to the reef, leaped at midnight upon the
coral ledges with waving torches and spears. We were more
than a mile from the land; the sullen ocean, thundering upon
the outside of the rocks, dashed the spray in our faces, almost
extinguishing the flambeaux; and, far as the eye could reach,
the darkness of sky and water was streaked with a long, misty
line of foam, marking the course of the coral barrier. The wild
fishermen, flourishing their weapons, and yelling like so many
demons to scare their prey, sprang from ledge to ledge, and

sometimes darted their spears in the very midst of the
breakers.

But fish-spearing was not the only sport we had at Loohooloo.
Right on the beach was a mighty old cocoa-nut tree, the
roots of which had been underwashed by the waves, so that the
trunk inclined far over its base. From the tuft of the tree, a
stout cord of bark depended, the end of which swept the water
several yards from the shore. This was a Tahitian swing. A
native lad seizes hold of the cord, and, after swinging to and fro
quite leisurely, all at once sends himself fifty or sixty feet from
the water, rushing through the air like a rocket. I doubt
whether any of our rope-dancers would attempt the feat. For
my own part, I had neither head nor heart for it; so, after
sending a lad aloft with an additional cord, by way of security,
I constructed a large basket of green boughs, in which I and
some particular friends of mine, used to swing over sea and
land by the hour

71. CHAPTER LXXI.

Bright was the morning, and brighter still the smiles of the
young ladies who accompanied us, when we sprang into a sort
of family canoe—wide and roomy—and bade adieu to the hospitable
Marharvai and his tenantry. As we paddled away, they
stood upon the beach, waving their hands, and crying out,
“aroha! aroha!” (farewell! farewell!) as long as we were
within hearing.

Very sad at parting with them, we endeavored, nevertheless,
to console ourselves in the society of our fellow-passengers.
Among these were two old ladies; but as they said nothing
to us, we will say nothing about them; nor any thing about
the old men who managed the canoe. But of the three mischievous,
dark-eyed young witches, who lounged in the stern
of that comfortable old island gondola, I have a great deal to
say.

In the first place, one of them was Marhar-Rarrar, the Bright-Eyed;
and, in the second place, neither she nor the romps, her
companions, ever dreamed of taking the voyage, until the doctor
and myself announced our intention; their going along was
nothing more than a madcap frolic; in short, they were a
parcel of wicked hoydens, bent on mischief, who laughed in
your face when you looked sentimental, and only tolerated your
company when making merry at your expense.

Something or other about us was perpetually awaking their
mirth. Attributing this to his own remarkable figure, the doctor

increased their enjoyment, by assuming the part of a Merry Andrew.
Yet his cap and bells never jingled but to some tune;
and while playing the Tom-fool, I more than suspected that he
was trying to play the rake. At home, it is deemed auspicious
to go a-wooing in epaulets; but among the Polynesians, your
best dress in courting is motley.

A fresh breeze springing up, we set our sail of matting, and
glided along as tranquilly as if floating upon an inland stream;
the white reef on one hand, and the green shore on the other.

Soon, as we turned a headland, we encountered another
canoe, paddling with might and main in an opposite direction;
the strangers shouting to each other, and a tall fellow, in the
bow, dancing up and down like a crazy man. They shot by us
like an arrow, though our fellow-voyagers shouted again and
again, for them to cease paddling.

According to the natives, this was a kind of royal mail-canoe,
carrying a message from the queen to her friends in a distant
part of the island.

Passing several shady bowers, which looked quite inviting,
we proposed touching, and diversifying the monotony of a sea-voyage
by a stroll ashore. So, forcing our canoe among the
bushes, behind a decayed palm, lying partly in the water, we
left the old folks to take a nap in the shade, and gallanted the
others among the trees, which were here trellised with vines and
creeping shrubs.

In the early part of the afternoon, we drew near the place to
which the party were going. It was a solitary house, inhabited
by four or five old women, who, when we entered, were
gathered in a circle about the mats, eating poee from a cracked
calabash. They seemed delighted at seeing our companions,
but rather drew up when introduced to ourselves. Eying us
distrustfully, they whispered to know who we were. The
answers they received were not satisfactory; for they treated

us with marked coolness and reserve, and seemed desirous of
breaking off our acquaintance with the girls. Unwilling, therefore,
to stay where our company was disagreeable, we resolved
to depart, without even eating a meal.

Informed of this, Marhar-Rarrar and her companions evinced
the most lively concern; and equally unmindful of their former
spirits, and the remonstrances of the old ladies, broke forth into
sobs and lamentations, which were not to be withstood. We
agreed, therefore, to tarry until they left for home; which would
be at the “Aheharar,” or Falling of the Sun; in other words, at
sunset.

When the hour arrived, after much leave-taking, we saw
them safely embarked. As the canoe turned a bluff, they
seized the paddles from the hands of the old men, and waved
them silently in the air. This was meant for a touching farewell,
as the paddle is only waved thus, when the parties separating,
never more expect to meet.

We now continued our journey; and following the beach,
soon came to a level and lofty overhanging bank, which, planted
here and there with trees, took a broad sweep round a considerable
part of the island. A fine pathway skirted the edge of
the bank; and often we paused to admire the scenery. The
evening was still and fair, even for so heavenly a climate; and
all round, far as the eye could reach, was the blending blue sky
and ocean.

As we went on, the reef-belt still accompanied us; turning
as we turned, and thundering its distant bass upon the ear, like
the unbroken roar of a cataract. Dashing forever against their
coral rampart, the breakers looked, in the distance, like a line of
rearing white chargers, reined in, tossing their white manes,
and bridling with foam.

These great natural breakwaters are admirably designed
for the protection of the land. Nearly all the Society Islands

are defended by them. Were the vast swells of the Pacific to
break against the soft alluvial bottoms which in many places
border the sea, the soil would soon be washed away, and the
natives be thus deprived of their most productive lands. As it
is, the banks of no rivulet are firmer.

But the coral barriers answer another purpose. They form
all the harbors of this group, including the twenty-four round
about the shores of Tahiti. Curiously enough, the openings in
the reefs, by which alone vessels enter to their anchorage, are
invariably opposite the mouths of running streams: an advantage
fully appreciated by the mariner who touches for the purpose
of watering his ship.

It is said, that the fresh water of the land, mixing with the
salts held in solution by the sea, so acts upon the latter, as to
resist the formation of the coral; and hence the breaks. Here
and there, these openings are sentineled, as it were, by little
fairy islets, green as emerald, and waving with palms. Strangely
and beautifully diversifying the long line of breakers, no objects
can strike the fancy more vividly. Pomaree II., with a taste
in watering-places truly Tahitian, selected one of them as a
royal retreat. We passed it on our journey.

Omitting several further adventures which befell us after
leaving the party from Loohooloo, we must now hurry on, to
relate what happened just before reaching the place of our
destination.

72. CHAPTER LXXII.

It must have been at least the tenth day, reckoning from the
Hegira, that we found ourselves the guests of Varvy, an old
hermit of an islander, who kept house by himself, perhaps a
couple of leagues from Taloo.

A stone's cast from the beach there was a fantastic rock, moss-grown,
and deep in a dell. It was insulated by a shallow brook,
which, dividing its waters, flowed on both sides, until united
below. Twisting its roots round the rock, a gnarled “Aoa”
spread itself overhead in a wilderness of foliage; the elastic
branch-roots depending from the larger boughs, insinuating
themselves into every cleft, thus forming supports to the parent
stem. In some places, these pendulous branches, half-grown,
had not yet reached the rock; swinging their loose fibrous ends
in the air like whiplashes.

Varvy's hut, a mere coop of bamboos, was perched upon a
level part of the rock, the ridge-pole resting at one end in a
crotch of the “Aoa,” and the other, propped by a forked bough
planted in a fissure.

Notwithstanding our cries as we drew near, the first hint the
old hermit received of our approach, was the doctor's stepping
up and touching his shoulder, as he was kneeling over on a stone,
cleaning fish in the brook. He leaped up, and stared at us.
But with a variety of uncouth gestures, he soon made us welcome;
informing us, by the same means, that he was both deaf
and dumb; he then motioned us into his dwelling.

Going in, we threw ourselves upon an old mat, and peered
round. The soiled bamboos and calabashes looked so uninviting,
that the doctor was for pushing on to Taloo that night,
notwithstanding it was near sunset. But at length we concluded
to stay where we were.

After a good deal of bustling outside under a decrepit shed,
the old man made his appearance with our supper. In one
hand he held a flickering taper, and in the other, a huge, flat
calabash, scantily filled with viands. His eyes were dancing in
his head, and he looked from the calabash to us, and from us
to the calabash, as much as to say, “Ah, my lads, what do ye
think of this, eh? Pretty good cheer, eh?” But the fish and
Indian turnip being none of the best, we made but a sorry
meal. While discussing it, the old man tried hard to make
himself understood by signs; most of which were so excessively
ludicrous, that we made no doubt he was perpetrating a series
of pantomimic jokes.

The remnants of the feast removed, our host left us for a moment,
returning with a calabash of portly dimensions, and furnished
with a long, hooked neck, the mouth of which was stopped
with a wooden plug. It was covered with particles of
earth, and looked as if just taken from some place under
ground.

With sundry winks and horrible giggles peculiar to the
dumb, the vegetable demijohn was now tapped; the old fellow
looking round cautiously, and pointing at it; as much as to intimate,
that it contained some thing which was “taboo,” or forbidden.

Aware that intoxicating liquors were strictly prohibited to
the natives, we now watched our entertainer with much interest.
Charging a cocoa-nut shell, he tossed it off, and then filling
up again, presented the goblet to me. Disliking the smell,
I made faces at it; upon which he became highly excited; so

much so, that a miracle was wrought upon the spot. Snatching
the cup from my hands, he shouted out, “Ah, karhowree
sabbee lee-lee, ena arva tee maitai!” in other words, what a
blockhead of a white man! this is the real stuff!

We could not have been more startled, had a frog leaped
from his mouth. For an instant, he looked confused enough
himself; and then placing a finger mysteriously upon his mouth,
he contrived to make us understand, that at times he was subject
to a suspension of the powers of speech.

Deeming the phenomenon a remarkable one, every way, the
doctor desired him to open his mouth, so that he might have a
look down. But he refused.

This occurrence made us rather suspicious of our host; nor
could we afterward account for his conduct, except by supposing
that his feigning dumbness might in some way or other assist
him in the nefarious pursuits, in which it afterward turned
out that he was engaged. This conclusion, however, was not
altogether satisfactory.

To oblige him, we at last took a sip of his “arva tee,” and
found it very crude, and strong as Lucifer. Curious to know
whence it was obtained, we questioned him; when, lighting up
with pleasure, he seized the taper, and led us outside the hut,
bidding us follow.

After going some distance through the woods, we came to a
dismantled old shed of boughs, apparently abandoned to decay.
Underneath, nothing was to be seen but heaps of decaying
leaves and an immense, clumsy jar, wide-mouthed, and, by some
means, rudely hollowed out from a ponderous stone.

Here, for a while, we were left to ourselves; the old man
placing the light in the jar, and then disappearing. He returned,
carrying a long, large bamboo, and a crotched stick.
Throwing these down, he poked under a pile of rubbish, and
brought out a rough block of wood, pierced through and through

with a hole, which was immediately clapped on top of the jar.
Then planting the crotched stick upright about two yards distant,
and making it sustain one end of the bamboo, he inserted
the other end of the latter into the hole in the block; concluding
these arrangements, by placing an old calabash under the
farther end of the bamboo.

Coming up to us now with a sly, significant look, and pointing
admiringly at his apparatus, he exclaimed, “Ah, karhowree,
ena hannahanna arva tee!” as much as to say, “This, you see,
is the way it's done.”

His contrivance was nothing less than a native still, where he
manufactured his island “poteen.” The disarray in which we
found it, was probably intentional, as a security against detection.
Before we left the shed, the old fellow toppled the whole
concern over, and dragged it away piecemeal.

His disclosing his secret to us thus, was characteristic of the
“Tootai Owrees,” or contemners of the missionaries among the
natives; who, presuming that all foreigners are opposed to the
ascendency of the missionaries, take pleasure in making them
confidants, whenever the enactments of their rulers are secretly
set at naught.

The substance from which the liquor is produced is called
“Tee,” which is a large, fibrous root, something like a yam, but
smaller. In its green state, it is exceedingly acrid; but boiled
or baked, has the sweetness of the sugar-cane. After being
subjected to the fire, macerated, and reduced to a certain stage
of fermentation, the “Tee” is stirred up with water, and is then
ready for distillation.

On returning to the hut, pipes were introduced; and, after a
while, Long Ghost, who, at first, had relished the “Arva Tee”
as little as myself, to my surprise, began to wax sociable over
it, with Varvy; and, before long, absolutely got mellow, the
old toper keeping him company.

It was a curious sight. Every one knows, that, so long as
the occasion lasts, there is no stronger bond of sympathy and
good-feeling among men, than getting tipsy together. And
how earnestly, nay, movingly, a brace of worthies, thus employed,
will endeavor to shed light upon, and elucidate their
mystical ideas!

Fancy Varvy and the doctor, then; lovingly tippling, and
brimming over with a desire to become better acquainted; the
doctor politely bent upon carrying on the conversation in the
language of his host, and the old hermit persisting in trying to
talk English. The result was, that between the two, they
made such a fricasee of vowels and consonants, that it was
enough to turn one's brain.

The next morning, on waking, I heard a voice from the
tombs. It was the doctor, solemnly pronouncing himself a
dead man. He was sitting up, with both hands clasped over
his forehead, and his pale face a thousand times paler than
ever.

“That infernal stuff has murdered me!” he cried. “Heavens!
my head's all wheels and springs, like the automaton chess-player!
What's to be done, Paul? I'm poisoned.”

But, after drinking an herbal draught, concocted by our
host, and eating a light meal, at noon, he felt much better;
so much so, that he declared himself ready to continue our
journey.

When we came to start, the Yankee's boots were missing;
and, after a diligent search, were not to be found. Enraged
beyond measure, their proprietor said that Varvy must have
stolen them; but, considering his hospitality, I thought this
extremely improbable; though, to whom else to impute the
theft, I knew not. The doctor maintained, however, that one
who was capable of drugging an innocent traveler with “Arva
Tee,” was capable of any thing.

But it was in vain that he stormed, and Varvy and I
searched; the boots were gone.

Were it not for this mysterious occurrence, and Varvy's
detestable liquors, I would here recommend all travelers going
round by the beach to Partoowye, to stop at the Rock, and
patronize the old gentleman—the more especially as he entertains
gratis.

73. CHAPTER LXXIII.

Upon starting, at last, I flung away my sandals—by this time
quite worn out—with the view of keeping company with the
doctor, now forced to go barefooted. Recovering his spirits
in good time, he protested that boots were a bore after all, and
going without them decidedly manly.

This was said, be it observed, while strolling along over a
soft carpet of grass; a little moist, even at midday, from the
shade of the wood, through which we were passing.

Emerging from this, we entered upon a blank, sandy tract,
upon which the sun's rays fairly flashed; making the loose
gravel under foot well nigh as hot as the floor of an oven.
Such yelling and leaping as there was in getting over this
ground, would be hard to surpass. We could not have crossed
at all,—until toward sunset,—had it not been for a few small,
wiry bushes, growing here and there; into which we every
now and then thrust our feet to cool. There was no little judgment
necessary in selecting your bush; for if not chosen judiciously,
the chances were, that on springing forward again, and
finding the next bush so far off, that an intermediate cooling
was indispensable, you would have to run back to your old
place again.

Safely passing the Sahara, or Fiery Desert, we soothed our
half-blistered feet by a pleasant walk through a meadow of
long grass, which soon brought us in sight of a few straggling
houses, sheltered by a grove on the outskirts of the village of
Partoowye.

My comrade was for entering the first one we came to;
but, on drawing near, they had so much of an air of pretension,
at least for native dwellings, that I hesitated; thinking
they might be the residences of the higher chiefs, from whom
no very extravagant welcome was to be anticipated.

While standing irresolute, a voice from the nearest house
hailed us: “Aramai! aramai, karhowree!” (“come in! come
in, strangers!”)

We at once entered, and were warmly greeted. The master
of the house was an aristocratic-looking islander; dressed in
loose linen drawers, a fine white shirt, and a sash of red silk,
tied about the waist, after the fashion of the Spaniards in Chili.
He came up to us with a free, frank air, and, striking his chest
with his hand, introduced himself as Ereemear Po-Po; or,
to render the Christian name back again into English—
Jeremiah Po-Po.

These curious combinations of names, among the people
of the Society Islands, originate in the following way. When
a native is baptized, his patronymic often gives offense to the
missionaries, and they insist upon changing to something else
whatever is objectionable therein. So, when Jeremiah came
to the font, and gave his name as Narmo-Nana Po-Po (something
equivalent to The-Darer-of-Devils-by-Night), the reverend
gentleman officiating told him, that such a heathenish appellation
would never do, and a substitute must be had; at least for
the devil part of it. Some highly respectable Christian appellations
were then submitted, from which the candidate for admission
into the church was at liberty to choose. There was
Adamo (Adam), Nooar (Noah), Daveedar (David), Earcobar
(James), Eorna (John), Patoora (Peter), Ereemear (Jeremiah),
&c. And thus did he come to be named Jeremiah Po-Po; or,
Jeremiah-in-the-Dark —which he certainly was, I fancy, as to
the ridiculousness of his new cognomen.

We gave our names in return; upon which he bade us be
seated; and, sitting down himself, asked us a great many questions,
in mixed English and Tahitian. After giving some directions
to an old man, to prepare food, our host's wife, a large,
benevolent-looking woman, upward of forty, also sat down by
us. In our soiled and travel-stained appearance, the good lady
seemed to find abundant matter for commiseration; and all
the while kept looking at us piteously, and making mournful
exclamations.

But Jeremiah and his spouse were not the only inmates of
the mansion.

In one corner, upon a large native couch, elevated upon
posts, reclined a nymph; who, half-veiled in her own long hair,
had yet to make her toilet for the day. She was the only
daughter of Po-Po; and a very beautiful little daughter she
was; not more than fourteen; with the most delightful shape
—like a bud just blown; and large hazel eyes. They called
her Loo: a name rather pretty and genteel, and, therefore,
quite appropriate; for a more genteel and lady-like little
damsel there was not in all Imeeo.

She was a cold and haughty young beauty though, this same
little Loo, and never deigned to notice us; further than now
and then to let her eyes float over our persons, with an expression
of indolent indifference. With the tears of the Loohooloo
girls hardly dry from their sobbing upon our shoulders, this
contemptuous treatment stung us not a little.

When we first entered, Po-Po was raking smooth the carpet
of dried ferns which had that morning been newly laid; and
now that our meal was ready, it was spread on a banana leaf,
right upon this fragrant floor. Here, we lounged at our ease;
eating baked pig and bread-fruit off earthen plates, and using,
for the first time in many a long month, real knives and forks.

These, as well as other symptoms of refinement, somewhat

abated our surprise at the reserve of the little Loo: her parents,
doubtless, were magnates in Partoowye, and she herself
was an heiress.

After being informed of our stay in the vale of Martair, they
were very curious to know, on what errand we came to Taloo.
We merely hinted, that the ship lying in the harbor was the
reason of our coming.

Arfretee, Po-Po's wife, was a right motherly body. The
meal over, she recommended a nap; and upon our waking
much refreshed, she led us to the doorway, and pointed down
among the trees; through which we saw the gleam of water.
Taking the hint, we repaired thither; and finding a deep shaded
pool, bathed, and returned to the house. Our hostess now sat
down by us; and after looking with great interest at the doctor's
cloak, felt of my own soiled and tattered garments for the
hundredth time, and exclaimed plaintively—“Ah nuee nuee
olee manee! olee manee!” (alas! they are very, very old!
very old!)

When Arfretee, good soul, thus addressed us, she thought
she was talking very respectable English. The word “nuee”
is so familiar to foreigners, throughout Polynesia, and is so
often used by them in their intercourse with the natives, that
the latter suppose it to be common to all mankind. “Olee
manee” is the native pronunciation of “old man,” which, by
Society Islanders talking Saxon, is applied indiscriminately to
all aged things and persons whatsoever.

Going to a chest filled with various European articles, she
took out two suits of new sailor frocks and trowsers; and presenting
them with a gracious smile, pushed us behind a calico
screen, and left us. Without any fastidious scruples, we donned
the garments; and what with the meal, the nap, and the bath,
we now came forth like a couple of bridegrooms.

Evening drawing on, lamps were lighted. They were very simple:

the half of a green melon, about one third full of cocoa-nut
oil, and a wick of twisted tappa floating on the surface. As a
night lamp, this contrivance can not be excelled; a soft dreamy
light being shed through the transparent rind.

As the evening advanced, other members of the household,
whom as yet we had not seen, began to drop in. There was a
slender young dandy in a gay striped shirt, and whole fathoms
of bright figured calico tucked about his waist, and falling to
the ground. He wore a new straw hat also, with three distinct
ribbons tied about the crown; one black, one green, and one
pink. Shoes or stockings, however, he had none.

There were a couple of delicate, olive-cheeked little girls
—twins—with mild eyes and beautiful hair, who ran about
the house, half-naked, like a couple of gazelles. They had a
brother, somewhat younger—a fine dark boy, with an eye like
a woman's. All these were the children of Po-Po, begotten in
lawful wedlock.

Then, there were two or three queer-looking old ladies, who
wore shabby mantles of soiled sheeting; which fitted so badly,
and withal, had such a second-hand look, that I at once put their
wearers down as domestic paupers—poor relations, supported
by the bounty of My Lady Arfretee. They were sad, meek old
bodies; said little and ate less; and either kept their eyes on
the ground, or lifted them up deferentially. The semi-civilization
of the island must have had something to do with making
them what they were.

I had almost forgotten Monee, the grinning old man who
prepared our meal. His head was a shining, bald globe.
He had a round little paunch, and legs like a cat. He was
Po-Po's factotum—cook, butler, and climber of the bread-fruit
and cocoa-nut trees; and, added to all else, a mighty favorite
with his mistress; with whom he would sit smoking and gossiping
by the hour.

Often you saw the indefatigable Monee working away at a
great rate; then dropping his employment all at once—never
mind what—run off to a little distance, and after rolling himself
away in a corner, and taking a nap, jump up again, and fall to
with fresh vigor.

From a certain something in the behavior of Po-Po and his
household, I was led to believe, that he was a pillar of the
church; though, from what I had seen in Tahiti, I could hardly
reconcile such a supposition with his frank, cordial, unembarrassed
air. But I was not wrong in my conjecture: Po-Po
turned out to be a sort of elder, or deacon; he was also accounted
a man of wealth, and was nearly related to a high
chief.

Before retiring, the entire household gathered upon the floor;
and in their midst, he read aloud a chapter from a Tahitian
Bible. Then kneeling with the rest of us, he offered up a
prayer. Upon its conclusion, all separated without speaking.
These devotions took place regularly, every night and morning.
Grace too, was invariably said, by this family, both before and
after eating.

After becoming familiarized with the almost utter destitution
of any thing like practical piety, upon these islands, what I observed
in our host's house astonished me much. But whatever
others might have been, Po-Po was, in truth, a Christian: the
only one, Arfretee excepted, whom I personally knew to be
such, among all the natives of Polynesia.

74. CHAPTER LXXIV.

They put us to bed very pleasantly.

Lying across the foot of Po-Po's nuptial couch, was a smaller
one, made of Koar-wood; a thin, strong cord, twisted from the
fibres of the husk of the cocoa-nut, and woven into an exceedingly
light sort of net-work, forming its elastic body. Spread
upon this, was a single, fine mat, with a roll of dried ferns for a
pillow, and a strip of white tappa for a sheet. This couch was
mine. The doctor was provided for in another corner.

Loo reposed alone on a little settee, with a taper burning by
her side; the dandy, her brother, swinging overhead in a sailor's
hammock. The two gazelles frisked upon a mat near by; and
the indigent relations borrowed a scant corner of the old butler's
pallet, who snored away by the open door. After all had
retired, Po-Po placed the illuminated melon in the middle of
the apartment; and so, we all slumbered till morning.

Upon awaking, the sun was streaming brightly through the
open bamboos, but no one was stirring. After surveying the
fine attitudes, into which forgetfulness had thrown at least one
of the sleepers, my attention was called off to the general aspect
of the dwelling, which was quite significant of the superior circumstances
of our host.

The house itself was built in the simple, but tasteful native
style. It was a long, regular oval, some fifty feet in length,
with low sides of cane-work, and a roof thatched with palmetto-leaves.
The ridge-pole was, perhaps, twenty feet from the

ground. There was no foundation whatever; the bare earth
being merely covered with ferns: a kind of carpeting which
serves very well, if frequently renewed; otherwise, it becomes
dusty, and the haunt of vermin, as in the huts of the poorer
natives.

Beside the couches, the furniture consisted of three or four
sailor chests; in which were stored the fine wearing-apparel of
the household—the ruffled linen shirts of Po-Po, the calico
dresses of his wife and children, and divers odds and ends
of European articles—strings of beads, ribbons, Dutch looking-glasses,
knives, coarse prints, bunches of keys, bits of crockery,
and metal buttons. One of these chests—used as a bandbox by
Arfretee—contained several of the native hats (coal-scuttles),
all of the same pattern, but trimmed with variously colored
ribbons. Of nothing was our good hostess more proud, than of
these hats, and her dresses. On Sundays, she went abroad a
dozen times; and every time, like Queen Elizabeth, in a different
robe.

Po-Po, for some reason or other, always gave us our meals
before the rest of the family were served; and the doctor, who
was very discerning in such matters, declared that we fared
much better than they. Certain it was, that had Ereemear's
guests traveled with purses, portmanteaux, and letters of introduction
to the queen, they could not have been better cared for.

The day after our arrival, Monee, the old butler, brought us
in for dinner a small pig, baked in the ground. All savory, it
lay in a wooden trencher, surrounded by roasted hemispheres
of the bread-fruit. A large calabash, filled with taro pudding,
or poee, followed; and the young dandy, overcoming his customary
languor, threw down our cocoa-nuts from an adjoining
tree.

When all was ready, and the household looking on, Long
Ghost, devoutly clasping his hands over the fated pig, implored

a blessing. Hereupon, every body present looked exceedingly
pleased; Po-Po coming up, and addressing the doctor with
much warmth; and Arfretee, regarding him with almost maternal
affection, exclaimed delightedly, “Ah! mickonaree tata
maitai!” in other words, “What a pious young man!”

It was just after this meal, that she brought me a roll of grass
sinnate (of the kind which sailors sew into the frame of their
tarpaulins), and then, handing me needle and thread, bade me
begin at once, and make myself the hat which I so much
needed. An accomplished hand at the business, I finished it
that day—merely stitching the braid together; and Arfretee,
by way of rewarding my industry, with her own olive hands
ornamented the crown with a band of flame-colored ribbon; the
two long ends of which streaming behind, sailor-fashion, still
preserved for me the Eastern title bestowed by Long Ghost.

75. CHAPTER LXXV.

The following morning, making our toilets carefully, we
donned our sombreros, and sallied out on a tour. Without
meaning to reveal our designs upon the court, our principal
object was, to learn what chances there were for white men to
obtain employment under the queen. On this head, it is true,
we had questioned Po-Po; but his answers had been very
discouraging; so we determined to obtain further information
elsewhere.

But first, to give some little description of the village.

The settlement of Partoowye is nothing more than some
eighty houses, scattered here and there, in the midst of an immense
grove, where the trees have been thinned out, and the
underbrush cleared away. Through the grove flows a stream;
and the principal avenue crosses it, over an elastic bridge of
cocoa-nut trunks, laid together side by side. The avenue is
broad, and serpentine; well shaded, from one end to the other;
and as pretty a place for a morning promenade, as any lounger
could wish. The houses, constructed without the slightest regard
to the road, peep into view from among the trees on either side;
some looking you right in the face as you pass, and others, without
any manners, turning their backs. Occasionally, you observe
a rural retreat, inclosed by a picket of bamboos, or with a solitary
pane of glass massively framed in the broadside of the
dwelling, or with a rude, strange-looking door, swinging upon
dislocated wooden hinges. Otherwise, the dwellings are built

in the original style of the natives; and never mind how mean
and filthy some of them may appear within, they all look picturesque
enough without.

As we sauntered along, the people we met, saluted us pleasantly,
and invited us into their houses; and in this way we
made a good many brief morning calls. But the hour could
not have been the fashionable one in Partoowye; since the
ladies were invariably in dishabille. But they always gave us
a cordial reception, and were particularly polite to the doctor;
caressing him, and amorously hanging about his neck; wonderfully
taken up, in short, with a gay handkerchief he wore there.
Arfretee had that morning bestowed it upon the pious youth.

With some exceptions, the general appearance of the natives
of Partoowye, was far better than that of the inhabitants of
Papeetee: a circumstance only to be imputed to their restricted
intercourse with foreigners.

Strolling on, we turned a sweep of the road, when the doctor
gave a start; and no wonder. Right before us, in the grove,
was a block of houses: regular square frames, boarded over,
furnished with windows and doorways, and two stories high.
We ran up, and found them fast going to decay; very dingy,
and here and there covered with moss; no sashes nor doors;
and on one side, the entire block had settled down nearly a
foot. On going into the basement, we looked clean up through
the unboarded timbers to the roof; where rays of light, glimmering
through many a chink, illuminated the cobwebs which
swung all round.

The whole interior was dark and close. Burrowing among
some old mats in one corner, like a parcel of Gipsys in a ruin,
were a few vagabond natives. They had their dwelling here.

Curious to know, who on earth could have been thus trying
to improve the value of real estate in Partoowye, we made
inquiries; and learned that, some years previous, the block

had been thrown up by a veritable Yankee (one might have
known that), a house carpenter by trade, and a bold, enterprising
fellow by nature.

Put ashore from his ship, sick, he first went to work and got
well; then sallied out with chisel and plane, and made himself
generally useful. A sober, steady man, it seems, he at last
obtained the confidence of several chiefs, and soon filled them
with all sorts of ideas concerning the alarming want of public
spirit in the people of Imeeo. More especially did he dwell
upon the humiliating fact of their living in paltry huts of bamboo,
when magnificent palaces of boards might so easily be
morticed together.

In the end, these representations so far prevailed with one
old chief, that the carpenter was engaged to build a batch of
these wonderful palaces. Provided with plenty of men, he at
once set to work: built a saw-mill among the mountains, felled
trees, and sent over to Papeetee for nails.

Presto! the castle rose; but alas, the roof was hardly on,
when the Yankee's patron, having speculated beyond his means,
broke all to pieces, and was absolutely unable to pay one “plug”
of tobacco in the pound. His failure involved the carpenter,
who sailed away from his creditors in the very next ship that
touched at the harbor.

The natives despised the rickety palace of boards; and often
lounged by, wagging their heads, and jeering.

We were told that the queen's residence was at the extreme
end of the village; so, without waiting for the doctor to procure
a fiddle, we suddenly resolved upon going thither at once,
and learning whether any privy counselorships were vacant.

Now, although there was a good deal of my waggish comrade's
nonsense about what has been said concerning our expectations
of court preferment, we, nevertheless, really thought,
that something to our advantage might turn up in that quarter.

On approaching the palace grounds, we found them rather
peculiar. A broad pier of hewn coral rocks was built right
out into the water; and upon this, and extending into a grove
adjoining, were some eight or ten very large native houses,
constructed in the handsomest style, and inclosed together by a
low picket of bamboos, which embraced a considerable area.

Throughout the Society Islands, the residences of the chiefs
are mostly found in the immediate vicinity of the sea; a site
which gives them the full benefit of a cooling breeze; nor are
they so liable to the annoyance of insects; besides enjoying
when they please, the fine shade afforded by the neighboring
groves, always most luxuriant near the water.

Lounging about the grounds, were some sixty or eighty
handsomely dressed natives, men and women; some reclining
on the shady side of the houses, others under the trees, and a
small group conversing close by the railing, facing us.

We went up to the latter; and giving the usual salutation, were
on the point of vaulting over the bamboos, when they turned
upon us angrily, and said we could not enter. We stated our
earnest desire to see the queen; hinting that we were bearers
of important dispatches. But it was to no purpose; and not
a little vexed, we were obliged to return to Po-Po's without
effecting any thing.

76. CHAPTER LXXVI.

Upon arriving home, we fully laid open to Po-Po our motives
in visiting Taloo, and begged his friendly advice. In his
broken English, he cheerfully gave us all the information we
needed.

It was true, he said, that the queen entertained some idea of
making a stand against the French; and it was currently reported,
also, that several chiefs from Borabora, Huwyenee,
Raiatair, and Tahar, the leeward islands of the group, were at
that very time taking counsel with her, as to the expediency of
organizing a general movement throughout the entire cluster,
with a view of anticipating any further encroachments on the
part of the invaders. Should warlike measures be actually decided
upon, it was quite certain that Pomaree would be glad
to enlist all the foreigners she could; but as to her making
officers of either the doctor or me, that was out of the question;
because, already, a number of Europeans, well known to her,
had volunteered as such. Concerning our getting immediate
access to the queen, Po-Po told us it was rather doubtful; she
living at that time very retired, in poor health and spirits, and
averse to receiving calls. Previous to her misfortunes, however,
no one, however humble, was denied admittance to her
presence; sailors, even, attended her levees.

Not at all disheartened by these things, we concluded to kill
time in Partoowye, until some event turned up more favorable
to our projects. So that very day we sallied out on an excursion

to the ship, which, lying land-locked, far up the bay, yet
remained to be visited.

Passing, on our route, a long, low shed, a voice, hailed us—
“White men ahoy!” Turning round, who should we see but
a rosy-cheeked Englishman (you could tell his country at a
glance), up to his knees in shavings, and planing away at a
bench. He turned out to be a runaway ship's carpenter, recently
from Tahiti, and now doing a profitable business in
Imeeo, by fitting up the dwellings of opulent chiefs with cupboards
and other conveniences, and once in a while trying his
hand at a lady's work-box. He had been in the settlement but
a few months, and already possessed houses and lands.

But though blessed with prosperity and high health, there
was one thing wanting—a wife. And when he came to speak
of the matter, his countenance fell, and he leaned dejectedly
upon his plane.

“It's too bad!” he sighed, “to wait three long years; and
all the while, dear little Lullee living in the same house with
that infernal chief from Tahar!”

Our curiosity was piqued; the poor carpenter, then, had been
falling in love with some island coquet, who was going to jilt
him.

But such was not the case. There was a law prohibiting,
under a heavy penalty, the marriage of a native with a foreigner,
unless the latter, after being three years a resident on the
island, was willing to affirm his settled intention of remaining
for life.

William was therefore in a sad way. He told us that he
might have married the girl half-a-dozen times, had it not been
for this odious law; but, latterly, she had become less loving
and more giddy, particularly with the strangers from Tahar.
Depserately smitten, and desirous of securing her at all hazards,
he had proposed to the damsel's friends a nice little arrangement,

introductory to marriage; but they would not hear
of it; besides, if the pair were discovered living together upon
such a footing, they would be liable to a degrading punishment:—sent
to work making stone walls and opening roads for
the queen.

Doctor Long Ghost was all sympathy. “Bill, my good fellow,”
said he, tremulously, “let me go and talk to her.” But
Bill, declining the offer, would not even inform us where his
charmer lived.

Leaving the disconsolate Willie planing a plank of New
Zealand pine (an importation from the Bay of Islands), and
thinking the while of Lullee, we went on our way. How his
suit prospered in the end, we never learned.

Going from Po-Po's house toward the anchorage of the harbor
of Taloo, you catch no glimpse of the water, until coming
out from deep groves, you all at once find yourself upon the
beach. A bay, considered by many voyagers the most beautiful
in the South Seas, then lies before you. You stand upon
one side of what seems a deep, green river, flowing through
mountain passes to the sea. Right opposite, a majestic promontory
divides the inlet from another, called after its discoverer,
Captain Cook. The face of this promontory toward Taloo is
one verdant wall; and at its base the waters lie still, and fathomless.
On the left hand, you just catch a peep of the widening
mouth of the bay, the break in the reef by which ships enter,
and beyond, the sea. To the right, the inlet, sweeping boldly
round the promontory, runs far away into the land; where, save
in one direction, the hills close in on every side, knee-deep in
verdure, and shooting aloft in grotesque peaks. The open
space lies at the head of the bay; in the distance it extends
into a broad, hazy plain lying at the foot of an amphitheatre
of hills. Here is the large sugar plantation previously alluded
to. Beyond the first range of hills, you descry the sharp pinnacles

of the interior; and among these, the same silent Marling-spike,
which we so often admired from the other side of the
island.

All alone in the harbor lay the good ship Leviathan. We
jumped into the canoe, and paddled off to her. Though early
in the afternoon, every thing was quiet; but upon mounting
the side, we found four or five sailors lounging about the forecastle,
under an awning. They gave us no very cordial reception;
and though otherwise quite hearty in appearance, seemed
to assume a look of ill-humor on purpose to honor our arrival.
There was much eagerness to learn whether we wanted to
“ship;” and by the unpleasant accounts they gave of the vessel,
they seemed desirous to prevent such a thing, if possible.

We asked where the rest of the ship's company were; a
gruff old fellow made answer, “One boat's crew of 'em is gone
to Davy Jones's locker:—went off after a whale, last cruise,
and never come back agin. All the starboard watch ran away
last night, and the skipper's ashore kitching 'em.”

“And it's shipping yer after, my jewels, is it?” cried a curly-pated
little Belfast sailor, coming up to us, “thin arrah! my
livelies, jist be after sailing ashore in a jiffy:—the divil of a
skipper will carry yees both to sea, whether or no. Be off
wid ye, thin, darlints, and steer clear of the likes of this ballyhoo
of blazes as long as ye live. They murther us here every
day, and starve us into the bargain. Here, Dick, lad, harl the
poor divils' canow alongside; and paddle away wid yees for
dear life.”

But we loitered awhile, listening to more inducements to
ship; and at last concluded to stay to supper. My sheath-knife
never cut into better sea-beef than that which we found
lying in the kid in the forecastle. The bread, too, was hard,
dry, and brittle as glass; and there was plenty of both.

While we were below, the mate of the vessel called out for

some one to come on deck. I liked his voice. Hearing it was
as good as a look at his face. It betokened a true sailor, and
no taskmaster.

The appearance of the Leviathan herself was quite pleasing.
Like all large, comfortable old whalers, she had a sort of
motherly look:—broad in the beam, flush decks, and four chubby
boats hanging at the breast. Her sails were furled loosely
upon the yards, as if they had been worn long, and fitted easy;
her shrouds swung negligently slack; and as for the “running
rigging,” it never worked hard as it does in some of your
“dandy ships,” jamming in the sheaves of blocks, like Chinese
slippers, too small to be useful; on the contrary, the ropes ran
glibly through, as if they had many a time traveled the same
road, and were used to it.

When evening came, we dropped into our canoe, and paddled
ashore; fully convinced that the good ship never deserved
the name which they gave her.

77. CHAPTER LXXVII.

While in Partoowye, we fell in with a band of six veteran
rovers, prowling about the village and harbor, who had just
come overland from another part of the island.

A few weeks previous, they had been paid off, at Papeetee,
from a whaling vessel, on board of which they had, six months
before, shipped for a single cruise; that is to say, to be discharged
at the next port. Their cruise was a famous one; and
each man stepped upon the beach at Tahiti, jingling his dollars
in a sock.

Weary at last of the shore, and having some money left,
they clubbed, and purchased a sail-boat; proposing a visit to
a certain uninhabited island, concerning which they had heard
strange and golden stories. Of course, they never could think
of going to sea without a medicine-chest filled with flasks
of spirits, and a small cask of the same in the hold, in case the
chest should give out.

Away they sailed; hoisted a flag of their own, and gave three
times three, as they staggered out of the bay of Papeetee with
a strong breeze, and under all the “muslin” they could carry.

Evening coming on, and feeling in high spirits, and no ways
disposed to sleep, they concluded to make a night of it; which
they did; all hands getting tipsy, and the two masts going
over the side about midnight, to the tune of

Fortunately, one worthy could stand, by holding on to the
tiller; and the rest managed to crawl about, and hack away the
lanyards of the rigging, so as to break clear from the fallen
spars. While thus employed, two sailors got tranquilly over
the side, and went plumb to the bottom; under the erroneous
impression, that they were stepping upon an imaginary wharf,
to get at their work better.

After this, it blew quite a gale; and the commodore, at the
helm, instinctively kept the boat before the wind; and by so
doing, ran over for the opposite island of Imeeo. Crossing the
channel, by almost a miracle they went straight through an
opening in the reef, and shot upon a ledge of coral, where the
waters were tolerably smooth. Here, they lay until morning,
when the natives came off to them in their canoes. By the
help of the islanders, the schooner was hove over on her
beam-ends; when, finding the bottom knocked to pieces, the
adventurers sold the boat for a trifle to the chief of the district,
and went ashore, rolling before them their precious cask
of spirits. Its contents soon evaporated, and they came to
Partoowye.

The day after encountering these fellows, we were strolling
among the groves in the neighborhood, when we came across
several parties of natives, armed with clumsy muskets, rusty
cutlasses, and outlandish clubs. They were beating the bushes,
shouting aloud, and apparently, trying to scare somebody. They
were in pursuit of the strangers, who, having in a single night,
set at naught all the laws of the place, had thought best to
decamp.

In the daytime, Po-Po's house was as pleasant a lounge as
one could wish. So, after strolling about, and seeing all there
was to be seen, we spent the greater part of our mornings there;
breakfasting late, and dining about two hours after noon. Sometimes
we lounged on the floor of ferns, smoking, and telling

stories; of which the doctor had as many as a half-pay captain
in the army. Sometimes we chatted, as well as we could, with
the natives; and, one day—joy to us!—Po-Po brought in three
volumes of Smollet's novels, which had been found in the chest
of a sailor, who some time previous had died on the island.

Amelia!—Peregrine!—you hero of rogues, Count Fathom!
—what a debt do we owe you!

I know not, whether it was the reading of these romances,
or the want of some sentimental pastime, which led the doctor,
about this period, to lay siege to the heart of the little Loo.

Now, as I have said before, the daughter of Po-Po was most
cruelly reserved, and never deigned to notice us. Frequently
I addressed her with a long face, and an air of the profoundest
and most distant respect—but in vain; she wouldn't even
turn up her pretty olive nose. Ah! it's quite plain, thought I;
she knows very well what graceless dogs sailors are, and won't
have any thing to do with us.

But thus thought not my comrade. Bent he was upon firing
the cold glitter of Loo's passionless eyes.

He opened the campaign with admirable tact: making
cautious approaches, and content, for three days, with ogling
the nymph, for about five minutes after every meal. On the
fourth day, he asked her a question; on the fifth she dropped
a nut of ointment, and he picked it up and gave it to her; on
the sixth, he went over and sat down within three yards of the
couch where she lay; and, on the memorable morn of the
seventh, he proceeded to open his batteries in form.

The damsel was reclining on the ferns; one hand supporting
her cheek, and the other listlessly turning over the leaves of a
Tahitian Bible. The doctor approached.

Now the chief disadvantage under which he labored, was
his almost complete ignorance of the love vocabulary of the
island. But French counts, they say, make love delightfully

in broken English; and what hindered the doctor from doing
the same in dulcet Tahitian. So at it he went.

“Ah!” said he, smiling bewitchingly, “oee mickonaree?
oee ready Biblee?”

No answer; not even a look.

“Ah! maitai! very goody ready Biblee mickonaree.”

Loo, without stirring, began reading, in a low tone, to herself.

“Mickonaree Biblee ready goody maitai,” once more observed
the doctor, ingeniously transposing his words for the
third time.

But all to no purpose; Loo gave no sign.

He paused, despairingly; but it would never do to give
up; so he threw himself at full length beside her, and audaciously
commenced turning over the leaves.

Loo gave a start, just one little start, barely perceptible, and
then fumbling something in her hand, lay perfectly motionless;
the doctor rather frightened at his own temerity, and knowing
not what to do next. At last, he placed one arm cautiously
about her waist; almost in the same instant he bounded to
his feet, with a cry; the little witch had pierced him with a
thorn. But there she lay, just as quietly as ever; turning over
the leaves, and reading to herself.

My long friend raised the siege incontinently, and made a
disorderly retreat to the place where I reclined, looking on.

I am pretty sure that Loo must have related this occurrence
to her father, who came in shortly afterward; for he looked
queerly at the doctor. But he said nothing; and, in ten
minutes, was quite as affable as ever. As for Loo, there was
not the slightest change in her; and the doctor, of course, forever
afterward held his peace.

78. CHAPTER LXXVIII.

One day, taking a pensive afternoon stroll along one of the
many bridle-paths which wind among the shady groves in the
neighborhood of Taloo, I was startled by a sunny apparition.
It was that of a beautiful young Englishwoman, charmingly
dressed, and mounted upon a spirited little white pony.
Switching a green branch, she came cantering toward me.

I looked round to see whether I could possibly be in Polynesia.
There were the palm-trees; but how to account for
the lady?

Stepping to one side, as the apparition drew near, I made a
polite obeisance. It gave me a bold, rosy look; and then, with
a gay air, patted its palfrey, crying out, “Fly away, Willie!”
and galloped among the trees.

I would have followed; but Willie's heels were making
such a pattering among the dry leaves, that pursuit would have
been useless.

So I went straight home to Po-Po's, and related my adventure
to the doctor.

The next day, our inquiries resulted in finding out, that the
stranger had been on the island about two years; that she came
from Sydney; and was the wife of Mr. Bell (happy dog!), the
proprietor of the sugar plantation, to which I have previously
referred.

To the sugar plantation we went, the same day.

The country round about was very beautiful: a level basin
of verdure, surrounded by sloping hillsides. The sugar-cane
—of which there was about one hundred acres, in various
stages of cultivation—looked thrifty. A considerable tract of
land, however, which seemed to have been formerly tilled,
was now abandoned.

The place where they extracted the saccharine matter, was
under an immense shed of bamboos. Here we saw several
clumsy pieces of machinery for breaking the cane; also great
kettles for boiling the sugar. But, at present, nothing was
going on. Two or three natives were lounging in one of the
kettles, smoking; the other was occupied by three sailors from
the Leviathan, playing cards.

While we were conversing with these worthies, a stranger
approached. He was a sun-burnt, romantic-looking European,
dressed in a loose suit of nankeen; his fine throat and chest
were exposed, and he sported a Guayaquil hat, with a brim like
a Chinese umbrella. This was Mr. Bell. He was very civil;
showed us the grounds, and, taking us into a sort of arbor, to
our surprise, offered to treat us to some wine. People often
do the like; but Mr. Bell did more: he produced the bottle.
It was spicy sherry; and we drank out of the halves of fresh
citron melons. Delectable goblets!

The wine was a purchase from the French in Tahiti.

Now all this was extremely polite in Mr. Bell; still, we
came to see Mrs. Bell. But she proved to be a phantom, indeed;
having left the same morning for Papeetee, on a visit to
one of the missionaries' wives there.

I went home, much chagrined.

To be frank, my curiosity had been wonderfully piqued
concerning the lady. In the first place, she was the most
beautiful white woman I ever saw in Polynesia. But this is
saying nothing. She had such eyes, such moss-roses in her

cheeks, such a divine air in the saddle, that, to my dying day,
I shall never forget Mrs. Bell.

The sugar-planter himself was young, robust, and handsome.
So, merrily may the little Bells increase, and multiply,
and make music in the Land of Imeeo.

79. CHAPTER LXXIX.

In Partoowye is to be seen one of the best constructed and
handsomest chapels in the South Seas. Like the buildings of
the palace, it stands upon an artificial pier, presenting a semicircular
sweep to the bay. The chapel is built of hewn blocks
of coral; a substance which, although extremely friable, is said
to harden by exposure to the atmosphere. To a stranger,
these blocks look extremely curious. Their surface is covered
with strange fossil-like impressions, the seal of which must
have been set before the flood. Very nearly white when hewn
from the reefs, the coral darkens with age; so that several
churches in Polynesia now look almost as sooty and venerable
as famed St. Paul's.

In shape, the chapel is an octagon, with galleries all round.
It will seat, perhaps, four hundred people. Every thing within
is stained a tawny red; and there being but few windows, or
rather embrasures, the dusky benches and galleries, and the
tall spectre of a pulpit look any thing but cheerful.

On Sundays, we always went to worship here. Going in the
family suite of Po-Po, we, of course, maintained a most decorous
exterior; and hence, by all the elderly people of the village,
were doubtless regarded as pattern young men.

Po-Po's seat was in a snug corner; and it being particularly
snug, in the immediate vicinity of one of the Palm pillars supporting
the gallery, I invariably leaned against it: Po-Po and

his lady on one side, the doctor and the dandy on the other,
and the children and poor relations seated behind.

As for Loo, instead of sitting (as she ought to have done) by
her good father and mother, she must needs run up into the
gallery, and sit with a parcel of giddy creatures of her own
age; who, all through the sermon, did nothing but look down
on the congregation; pointing out, and giggling at the queer-looking
old ladies in dowdy bonnets and scant tunics. But
Loo, herself, was never guilty of these improprieties.

Occasionally during the week, they have afternoon service in
the chapel, when the natives themselves have something to say;
although their auditors are but few. An introductory prayer
being offered by the missionary, and a hymn sung, communicants
rise in their places, and exhort in pure Tahitian, and with wonderful
tone and gesture. And among them all, Deacon Po-Po,
though he talked most, was the one whom you would have
liked best to hear. Much would I have given to have understood
some of his impassioned bursts; when he tossed his arms
overhead, stamped, scowled, and glared, till he looked like the
very Angel of Vengeance.

“Deluded man!” sighed the doctor, on one of these occasions,
“I fear he takes the fanatical view of the subject.” One
thing was certain: when Po-Po spoke, all listened; a great deal
more than could be said for the rest; for under the discipline
of two or three I could mention, some of the audience napped;
others fidgeted; a few yawned; and one irritable old gentleman,
in a night-cap of cocoa-nut leaves, used to clutch his long
staff in a state of excessive nervousness, and stride out of the
church; making all the noise he could, to emphasize his disgust.

Right adjoining the chapel is an immense, rickety building,
with windows and shutters, and a half-decayed board flooring
laid upon trunks of palm-trees. They called it a school-house;
but as such we never saw it occupied. It was often used as a

court-room, however; and here we attended several trials;
among others, that of a decayed naval officer, and a young girl
of fourteen; the latter, charged with having been very naughty
on a particular occasion, set forth in the pleadings; and the
former, with having aided and abetted her in her naughtiness,
and with other misdemeanors.

The foreigner was a tall, military-looking fellow, with a dark
cheek and black whiskers. According to his own account, he
had lost a colonial armed brig on the coast of New Zealand;
and since then, had been leading the life of a man about town,
among the islands of the Pacific.

The doctor wanted to know why he did not go home and
report the loss of his brig; but Captain Crash, as they called
him, had some incomprehensible reasons for not doing so, about
which he could talk by the hour, and no one be any the wiser.
Probably, he was a discreet man, and thought it best to waive
an interview with the lords of the admiralty.

For some time past, this extremely suspicious character had
been carrying on the illicit trade in French wines and brandies,
smuggled over from the men-of-war lately touching at Tahiti.
In a grove near the anchorage, he had a rustic shanty and
arbor; where, in quiet times, when no ships were in Taloo, a
stray native once in a while got boozy, and staggered home,
catching at the cocoa-nut trees as he went. The captain himself
lounged under a tree during the warm afternoons, pipe in
mouth; thinking perhaps, over old times, and occasionally feeling
his shoulders for his lost epaulets.

But, sail ho! a ship is descried coming into the bay. Soon,
she drops her anchor in its waters; and the next day Captain
Crash entertains the sailors in his grove. And rare times they
have of it:—drinking and quarreling together, as sociably as
you please.

Upon one of these occasions, the crew of the Leviathan made

so prodigious a tumult, that the natives, indignant at the insult
offered their laws, plucked up a heart, and made a dash at the
rioters, one hundred strong. The sailors fought like tigers; but
were at last overcome, and carried before a native tribunal;
which, after a mighty clamor, dismissed every body but
Captain Crash, who was asserted to be the author of the disorders.

Upon this charge, then, he had been placed in confinement
against the coming on of the assizes; the judge being expected to
lounge along in the course of the afternoon. While waiting his
Honor's arrival, numerous additional offenses were preferred
against the culprit (mostly by the old women); among others
was the bit of a slip in which he stood implicated along with
the young lady. Thus, in Polynesia as elsewhere;—charge a
man with one misdemeanor, and all his peccadilloes are raked
up and assorted before him.

Going to the school-house for the purpose of witnessing the
trial, the din of it assailed our ears a long ways off; and upon
entering the building, we were almost stunned. About five
hundred natives were present; each, apparently, having something
to say, and determined to say it. His Honor—a
handsome, benevolent-looking old man—sat cross-legged on
a little platform; seemingly resigned with all Christian submission
to the uproar. He was an hereditary chief in this
quarter of the island, and judge for life in the district of
Partoowye.

There were several cases coming on; but the captain and
girl were first tried together. They were mixing freely with
the crowd; and as it afterward turned out that every one—no
matter who—had a right to address the court, for aught we
knew they might have been arguing their own case. At what
precise moment the trial began, it would be hard to say.
There was no swearing of witnesses, and no regular

jury.[21] Now and then somebody leaped up and shouted out
something which might have been evidence; the rest, meanwhile,
keeping up an incessant jabbering. Presently, the old judge
himself began to get excited; and springing to his feet, ran in
among the crowd, wagging his tongue as hard as any body.

The tumult lasted about twenty minutes; and toward the
end of it, Captain Crash might have been seen, tranquilly regarding,
from his Honor's platform, the judicial uproar, in which
his fate was about being decided.

The result of all this was, that both he and the girl were
found guilty. The latter was adjudged to make six mats for
the queen; and the former, in consideration of his manifold
offenses, being deemed incorrigible, was sentenced to eternal
banishment from the island. Both these decrees seemed to
originate in the general hubbub. His Honor, however, appeared
to have considerable authority, and it was quite plain that
the decision received his approval.

The above penalties were by no means indiscriminately inflicted.
The missionaries have prepared a sort of penal tariff
to facilitate judicial proceedings. It costs so many days' labor
on the Broom Road to indulge in the pleasures of the calabash;
so many fathoms of stone wall to steal a musket; and so on to the
end of the catalogue. The judge being provided with a book, in
which all these matters are cunningly arranged, the thing is vastly
convenient. For instance: a crime is proved,—say, bigamy;
turn to letter B.—and there you have it. Bigamy:—forty days
on the Broom Road, and twenty mats for the queen. Read the
passage aloud, and sentence is pronounced.

After taking part in the first trial, the other delinquents present
were put upon their own; in which, also, the convicted

culprits seemed to have quite as much to say as the rest. A
rather strange proceeding; but strictly in accordance with the
glorious English principle, that every man should be tried by
his peers.

They were all found guilty.

80. CHAPTER LXXX.

It is well to learn something about people before being introduced
to them; and so, we will here give some account of
Pomaree and her family.

Every reader of Cook's Voyages must remember “Otoo,”
who, in that navigator's time, was king of the larger peninsula
of Tahiti. Subsequently, assisted by the muskets of the
Bounty's men, he extended his rule over the entire island.
This Otoo, before his death, had his name changed into Pomaree,
which has ever since been the royal patronymic.

He was succeeded by his son, Pomaree II., the most famous
prince in the annals of Tahiti. Though a sad debauchee and
drunkard, and even charged with unnatural crimes, he was a
great friend of the missionaries, and one of their very first
proselytes. During the religious wars into which he was
hurried, by his zeal for the new faith, he was defeated, and
expelled from the island. After a short exile, he returned
from Imeeo, with an army of eight hundred warriors; and, in
the battle of Narii, routed the rebellious pagans with great
slaughter, and reëstablished himself upon the throne. Thus,
by force of arms, was Christianity finally triumphant in
Tahiti.

Pomaree II. dying, in 1821, was succeeded by his infant
son, under the title of Pomaree III. This young prince survived
his father but six years; and the government then descended
to his elder sister, Aimata, the present queen, who is commonly

called Pomaree Vahinee I., or the first female Pomaree. Her
majesty must be now upward of thirty years of age. She has
been twice married. Her first husband was a son of the old
King of Tahar, an island about one hundred miles from Tahiti.
This proving an unhappy alliance, the pair were soon after
divorced. The present husband of the queen is a chief of Imeeo.

The reputation of Pomaree is not what it ought to be. She,
and also her mother, were, for a long time, excommunicated
members of the Church; and the former, I believe, still is.
Among other things, her conjugal fidelity is far from being
unquestioned. Indeed, it was upon this ground, chiefly, that
she was excluded from the communion of the Church.

Previous to her misfortunes, she spent the greater portion
of her time sailing about from one island to another, attended
by a licentious court; and wherever she went, all manner of
games and festivities celebrated her arrival.

She was always given to display. For several years, the
maintenance of a regiment of household troops drew largely
upon the royal exchequer. They were trowserless fellows, in
a uniform of calico shirts and pasteboard hats; armed with
muskets of all shapes and calibres, and commanded by a great
noisy chief, strutting it in a coat of fiery red. These heroes
escorted their mistress whenever she went abroad.

Some time ago, the queen received from her English sister,
Victoria, a very showy, though uneasy, headdress—a crown;
probably made to order, at some tinman's in London. Having
no idea of reserving so pretty a bauble for coronation days,
which come so seldom, her majesty sported it whenever she
appeared in public; and, to show her familiarity with European
customs, politely touched it to all foreigners of distinction—
whaling captains, and the like—whom she happened to meet in
her evening walk on the Broom Road.

The arrival and departure of royalty were always announced

at the palace by the court artilleryman—a fat old gentleman,
who, in a prodigious hurry and perspiration, discharged minute
fowling-pieces, as fast as he could load and fire the same.

The Tahitian princess leads her husband a hard life. Poor
fellow! he not only caught a queen, but a Tartar, when he
married her. The style by which he is addressed is rather
significant—“Pomaree-Tanee” (Pomaree's man). All things
considered, as appropriate a title for a king-consort as could be
hit upon.

If ever there were a henpecked husband, that man is the
prince. One day, his cara-sposa, giving audience to a deputation
from the captains of the vessels lying in Papeetee, he ventured
to make a suggestion which was very displeasing to her.
She turned round, and, boxing his ears, told him to go over to
his beggarly island of Imeeo, if he wanted to give himself airs.

Cuffed and contemned, poor Tanee flies to the bottle, or
rather, to the calabash, for solace. Like his wife and mistress,
he drinks more than he ought.

Six or seven years ago, when an American man-of-war was
lying at Papeetee, the town was thrown into the greatest commotion
by a conjugal assault and battery, made upon the sacred
person of Pomaree by her intoxicated Tanee.

Captain Bob once told me the story. And by way of throwing
more spirit into the description, as well as to make up for
his oral deficiencies, the old man went through the accompanying
action: myself being proxy for the Queen of Tahiti.

It seems, that on a Sunday morning, being dismissed contemptuously
from the royal presence, Tanee was accosted by
certain good fellows, friends and boon companions, who condoled
with him on his misfortunes—railed against the queen,
and finally dragged him away to an illicit vender of spirits, in
whose house the party got gloriously mellow. In this state,
Pomaree Vahinee I., was the topic upon which all dilated—

“A vixen of a queen,” probably suggested one. “Its infamous,”
said another; “and I'd have satisfaction,” cried a third.
“And so I will!”—Tanee must have hiccoughed; for off he
went; and ascertaining that his royal half was out riding, he
mounted his horse, and galloped after her.

Near the outskirts of the town, a cavalcade of women came
cantering toward him, in the centre of which was the object of
his fury. Smiting his beast right and left, he dashed in among
them; completely overturning one of the party, leaving her on
the field, and dispersing every body else except Pomaree.
Backing her horse dextrously, the incensed queen heaped
upon him every scandalous epithet she could think of; until at
last, the enraged Tanee leaped out of his saddle, caught Pomaree
by her dress, and dragging her to the earth, struck her repeatedly
in the face, holding on meanwhile by the hair of her head.
He was proceeding to strangle her on the spot, when the cries
of the frightened attendants brought a crowd of natives to the
rescue, who bore the nearly insensible queen away.

But his frantic rage was not yet sated. He ran to the palace;
and before it could be prevented, demolished a valuable supply
of crockery, a recent present from abroad. In the act of
perpetrating some other atrocity, he was seized from behind,
and carried off with rolling eyes and foaming at the mouth.

This is a fair example of a Tahitian in a passion. Though
the mildest of mortals in general, and hard to be roused, when
once fairly up, he is possessed with a thousand devils.

The day following, Tanee was privately paddled over to
Imeeo, in a canoe; where, after remaining in banishment for a
couple of weeks, he was allowed to return, and once more give
in his domestic adhesion.

Though Pomaree Vahinee I. be something of a Jezebel in
private life, in her public rule, she is said to have been quite
lenient and forbearing. This was her true policy; for an

hereditary hostility to her family had always lurked in the
hearts of many powerful chiefs, the descendants of the old
Kings of Taiarboo, dethroned by her grandfather Otoo. Chief
among these, and in fact the leader of his party, was Poofai; a
bold, able man, who made no secret of his enmity to the missionaries,
and the government which they controlled. But
while events were occurring calculated to favor the hopes of
the disaffected and turbulent, the arrival of the French gave a
most unexpected turn to affairs.

During my sojourn in Tahiti, a report was rife—which I
knew to originate with what is generally called the “missionary
party”—that Poofai and some other chiefs of note, had actually
agreed, for a stipulated bribe, to acquiesce in the appropriation
of their country. But subsequent events have rebutted the
calumny. Several of these very men have recently died in
battle against the French.

Under the sovereignty of the Pomarees, the great chiefs of
Tahiti were something like the barons of King John. Holding
feudal sway over their patrimonial valleys, and on account of
their descent, warmly beloved by the people, they frequently
cut off the royal revenues by refusing to pay the customary
tribute due from them as vassals.

The truth is, that with the ascendency of the missionaries,
the regal office in Tahiti lost much of its dignity and influence.
In the days of Paganism, it was supported by all the power of
a numerous priesthood, and was solemnly connected with the
entire superstitious idolatry of the land. The monarch claimed
to be a sort of bye-blow of Tararroa, the Saturn of the Polynesian
mythology, and cousin-german to inferior deities. His
person was thrice holy; if he entered an ordinary dwelling,
never mind for how short a time, it was demolished when he
left; no common mortal being thought worthy to inhabit it
afterward.

“I'm a greater man than King George,” said the incorrigible
young Otoo, to the first missionaries; “he rides on a horse, and
I on a man.” Such was the case. He traveled post through
his dominions on the shoulders of his subjects; and relays of
immortal beings were provided in all the valleys.

But alas! how times have changed; how transient human
greatness. Some years since, Pomaree Vahinee I., the granddaughter
of the proud Otoo, went into the laundry business;
publicly soliciting, by her agents, the washing of the linen belonging
to the officers of ships touching in her harbors.

It is a significant fact, and one worthy of record, that while
the influence of the English missionaries at Tahiti has tended
to so great a diminution of the regal dignity there, that of the
American missionaries at the Sandwich Islands, has been purposely
exerted to bring about a contrary result.

81. CHAPTER LXXXI.

It was about the middle of the second month of the Hegira,
and therefore some five weeks after our arrival in Partoowye,
that we at last obtained admittance to the residence of the
queen.

It happened thus. There was a Marquesan in the train of
Pomaree, who officiated as nurse to her children. According
to the Tahitian custom, the royal youngsters are carried about
until it requires no small degree of strength to stand up under
them. But Marbonna was just the man for this—large and
muscular, well made as a statue, and with an arm like a degenerate
Tahitian's thigh.

Embarking at his native island, as a sailor, on board of a
French whaler, he afterward ran away from the ship at Tahiti;
where, being seen and admired by Pomaree, he had been prevailed
upon to enlist in her service.

Often, when visiting the grounds, we saw him walking about
in the shade, carrying two handsome boys, who encircled his
neck with their arms. Marbonna's face, tattooed as it was
in the ornate style of his tribe, was as good as a picture-book to
these young Pomarees. They delighted to trace with their
fingers, the outlines of the strange shapes there delineated.

The first time my eyes lighted upon the Marquesan, I knew
his country in a moment; and hailing him in his own language,
he turned round, surprised that a person so speaking should be
a stranger. He proved to be a native of Tior, a glen of Nukuheva.

I had visited the place more than once; and so, on the
island of Imeeo, we met like old friends.

In my frequent conversations with him over the bamboo
picket, I found this islander a philosopher of nature—a wild
heathen, moralizing upon the vices and follies of the Christian
court of Tahiti—a savage, scorning the degeneracy of the people
among whom fortune had thrown him.

I was amazed at the national feelings of the man. No European,
when abroad, could speak of his country with more pride
than Marbonna. He assured me, again and again, that so soon
as he had obtained sufficient money to purchase twenty muskets,
and as many bags of powder, he was going to return to a place,
with which Imeeo was not worthy to be compared.

It was Marbonna, who, after one or two unsuccessful attempts,
at last brought about our admission into the queen's
grounds. Through a considerable crowd, he conducted us
along the pier to where an old man was sitting; to whom he
introduced us as a couple of “karhowrees” of his acquaintance,
anxious to see the sights of the palace. The venerable chamberlain
stared at us, and shook his head: the doctor, thinking
he wanted a fee, placed a plug of tobacco in his hand. This
was ingratiating, and we were permitted to pass on. Upon
the point of entering one of the houses, Marbonna's name was
shouted in half-a-dozen different directions, and he was obliged
to withdraw.

Thus left at the very threshold to shift for ourselves, my
companion's assurance stood us in good stead. He stalked right
in, and I followed. The place was full of women, who, instead
of exhibiting the surprise we expected, accosted us as cordially
as if we had called to take our Souchong with them, by express
invitation. In the first place, nothing would do but we must
each devour a calabash of “poee,” and several roasted bananas.
Pipes were then lighted, and a brisk conversation ensued.

These ladies of the court, if not very polished, were surprisingly
free and easy in their manners; quite as much so as
King Charles's Beauties. There was one of them—an arch
little miss, who could converse with us pretty fluently—to whom
we strove to make ourselves particularly agreeable, with the
view of engaging her services as cicerone.

As such, she turned out to be every thing we could desire.
No one disputing her will, every place was entered without
ceremony, curtains brushed aside, mats lifted, and each nook
and corner explored. Whether the little damsel carried her
mistress' signet, that every thing opened to her thus, I know
not; but Marbonna himself, the bearer of infants, could not
have been half so serviceable.

Among other houses which we visited, was one of large size
and fine exterior; the special residence of a European—formerly
the mate of a merchant vessel,—who had done himself the honor
of marrying into the Pomaree family. The lady he wedded being
a near kinswoman of the queen, he became a permanent member
of her majesty's household. This adventurer rose late,
dressed theatrically in calico and trinkets, assumed a dictatorial
tone in conversation, and was evidently upon excellent terms
with himself.

We found him reclining on a mat, smoking a reed-pipe of tobacco,
in the midst of an admiring circle of chiefs and ladies.
He must have noticed our approach; but instead of rising
and offering civilities, he went on talking and smoking, without
even condescending to look at us.

“His Highness feels his `poee,”' carelessly observed the doctor.
The rest of the company gave us the ordinary salutation,
our guide announcing us beforehand.

In answer to our earnest requests to see the queen, we were
now conducted to an edifice, by far the most spacious, in the
inclosure. It was at least one hundred and fifty feet in length,

very wide, with low eaves, and an exceedingly steep roof of
pandannas leaves. There were neither doors nor windows—
nothing along the sides but the slight posts supporting the rafters.
Between these posts, curtains of fine matting and tappa
were rustling, all round; some of them were festooned, or
partly withdrawn, so as to admit light and air, and afford a
glimpse now and then of what was going on within.

Pushing aside one of the screens, we entered. The apartment
was one immense hall; the long and lofty ridge-pole fluttering
with fringed matting and tassels, full forty feet from the
ground. Lounges of mats, piled one upon another, extended
on either side; while here and there were slight screens, forming
as many recesses, where groups of natives—all females—
were reclining at their evening meal.

As we advanced, these various parties ceased their buzzing,
and in explanation of our appearance among them, listened to
a few cabalistic words from our guide.

The whole scene was a strange one; but what most excited
our surprise, was the incongruous assemblage of the most costly
objects from all quarters of the globe. Cheek by jowl, they
lay beside the rudest native articles, without the slightest attempt
at order. Superb writing-desks of rose-wood, inlaid
with silver and mother-of-pearl; decanters and goblets of cut
glass; embossed volumes of plates; gilded candelabras; sets
of globes and mathematical instruments; the finest porcelain;
richly mounted sabres and fowling-pieces; laced hats and sumptuous
garments of all sorts, with numerous other matters of
European manufacture, were strewn about among greasy calabashes
half-filled with “poee,” rolls of old tappa and matting,
paddles and fish-spears, and the ordinary furniture of a Tahitian
dwelling.

All the articles first mentioned, were, doubtless, presents
from foreign powers. They were more or less injured: the

fowling-pieces and swords were rusted; the finest woods were
scratched; and a folio volume of Hogarth lay open, with a
cocoa-nut shell of some musty preparation capsized among the
miscellaneous furniture of the Rake's apartment, where that
inconsiderate young gentleman is being measured for a coat.

While we were amusing ourselves in this museum of curiosities,
our conductor plucked us by the sleeve, and whispered,
“Pomaree! Pomaree! aramai kow kow.”

“She is coming to sup, then,” said the doctor, staring in the
direction indicated. “What say you, Paul, suppose we step
up?” Just then a curtain near by, lifted; and from a private
building a few yards distant, the queen entered, unattended.

She wore a loose gown of blue silk, with two rich shawls,
one red and the other yellow, tied about her neck. Her royal
majesty was barefooted.

She was about the ordinary size, rather matronly; her features
not very handsome; her mouth, voluptuous; but there was
a care-worn expression in her face, probably attributable to her
late misfortunes. From her appearance, one would judge her
about forty; but she is not so old.

As the queen approached one of the recesses, her attendants
hurried up, escorted her in, and smoothed the mats on which
she at last reclined. Two girls soon appeared, carrying their
mistress' repast; and then, surrounded by cut-glass and porcelain,
and jars of sweetmeats and confections, Pomaree Vahinee
I., the titular Queen of Tahiti, ate fish and poee out of her
native calabashes, disdaining either knife or spoon.

“Come on,” whispered Long Ghost, “let's have an audience
at once;” and he was on the point of introducing himself, when
our guide, quite alarmed, held him back, and implored silence.
The other natives also interfered; and as he was pressing forward,
raised such an outcry, that Pomaree lifted her eyes, and
saw us for the first.

She seemed surprised, and offended; and issuing an order
in a commanding tone to several of her women, waved us out
of the house. Summary as the dismissal was, court etiquet, no
doubt, required our compliance. We withdrew; making a profound
inclination as we disappeared behind the tappa arras.

We departed the grounds without seeing Marbonna; and
previous to vaulting over the picket, feed our pretty guide, after
a fashion of our own. Looking round a few moments after,
we saw the damsel escorted back by two men, who seemed to
have been sent after her. I trust she received nothing more
than a reprimand.

The next day Po-Po informed us that strict orders had been
issued, to admit no strangers within the palace precincts.

82. CHAPTER LXXXII.

Disappointed in going to court, we determined upon going
to sea. It would never do, longer to trespass on Po-Po's
hospitality; and then, weary somewhat of life in Imeeo, like
all sailors ashore, I at last pined for the billows.

Now, if her crew were to be credited, the Leviathan was
not the craft to our mind. But I had seen the captain, and
liked him. He was an uncommonly tall, robust, fine-looking
man, in the prime of life. There was a deep crimson spot in
the middle of each sun-burnt cheek, doubtless the effect of his
sea-potations. He was a Vinyarder, or native of the island of
Martha's Vinyard (adjoining Nantucket), and—I would have
sworn it—a sailor, and no tyrant.

Previous to this, we had rather avoided the Leviathan's
men, when they came ashore; but now, we purposely threw
ourselves in their way, in order to learn more of the vessel.

We became acquainted with the third mate, a Prussian, and
an old merchant seaman—a right jolly fellow, with a face like
a ruby. We took him to Po-Po's, and gave him a dinner
of baked pig and bread-fruit; with pipes and tobacco for
dessert. The account he gave us of the ship, agreed with my
own surmises. A cosier old craft never floated; and the
captain was the finest man in the world. There was plenty to
eat, too; and, at sea, nothing to do but sit on the windlass and
sail. The only bad trait about the vessel was this: she had

been lanched under some baleful star; and so, was a luckless
ship in the fishery. She dropped her boats into the brine
often enough, and they frequently got fast to the whales; but
lance and harpoon almost invariably “drew” when darted by
the men of the Leviathan. But what of that? We would
have all the sport of chasing the monsters, with none of the
detestable work which follows their capture. So, hurrah for
the coast of Japan! Thither the ship was bound.

A word now, about the hard stories we heard, the first time
we visited the ship. They were nothing but idle fictions, got
up by the sailors for the purpose of frightening us away, so as
to oblige the captain, who was in want of more hands, to lie
the longer in a pleasant harbor.

The next time the Vinyarder came ashore, we flung ourselves
in his path. When informed of our desire to sail with
him, he wanted to know our history; and, above all, what
countrymen we were. We said, that we had left a whaler in
Tahiti, some time previous; and, since then, had been—in the
most praiseworthy manner—employed upon a plantation. As
for our country, sailors belong to no nation in particular; we
were, on this occasion, both Yankees. Upon this he looked
decidedly incredulous; and freely told us, that he verily believed
we were both from Sydney.

Be it known here, that American sea captains, in the Pacific,
are mortally afraid of these Sydney gentry; who, to tell the
truth, wherever known, are in excessively bad odor. Is there
a mutiny on board a ship in the South Seas, ten to one a
Sydney man is the ringleader. Ashore, these fellows are
equally riotous.

It was on this account, that we were anxious to conceal the
fact of our having belonged to the Julia; though it annoyed
me much, thus to deny the dashing little craft. For the same
reason, also, the doctor fibbed about his birth-place.

Unfortunately, one part of our raiment—Arfretee's blue
frocks—was deemed a sort of collateral evidence against us.
For, curiously enough, an American sailor is generally distinguished
by his red frock; and an English tar, by his blue one:
thus reversing the national colors. The circumstance was
pointed out by the captain; and we quickly explained the
anomaly. But, in vain: he seemed inveterately prejudiced
against us; and, in particular, eyed the doctor most distrustfully.

By way of propping the latter's pretensions, I was throwing
out a hint concerning Kentucky, as a land of tall men,
when our Vinyarder turned away abruptly, and desired to
hear nothing more. It was evident that he took Long Ghost
for an exceedingly problematical character.

Perceiving this, I resolved to see what a private interview
would do. So, one afternoon, I found the captain smoking a
pipe in the dwelling of a portly old native—one Mai-Mai—
who, for a reasonable compensation, did the honors of Partoowye,
to illustrious strangers.

His guest had just risen from a sumptuous meal of baked
pig and taro pudding; and the remnants of the repast were
still visible. Two reeking bottles, also, with their necks
wrenched off, lay upon the mat. All this was encouraging;
for, after a good dinner, one feels affluent and amiable, and
peculiarly open to conviction. So, at all events, I found the
noble Vinyarder.

I began by saying, that I called for the purpose of setting
him right, touching certain opinions of his concerning the
place of my nativity:—I was an American—thank Heaven!—
and wanted to convince him of the fact.

After looking me in the eye for some time, and, by so doing,
revealing an obvious unsteadiness in his own visual organs,
he begged me to reach forth my arm. I did so; wondering

what upon earth that useful member had to do with the
matter in hand.

He placed his fingers upon my wrist; and holding them
there for a moment, sprang to his feet; and, with much enthusiasm,
pronounced me a Yankee, every beat of my pulse!

“Here, Mai-Mai!” he cried, “another bottle!” And, when
it came, with one stroke of a knife, he summarily beheaded it,
and commanded me to drain it to the bottom. He then told me,
that if I would come on board his vessel the following morning,
I would find the ship's articles on the cabin transom.

This was getting along famously. But what was to become
of the doctor?

I forthwith made an adroit allusion to my long friend. But
it was worse than useless. The Vinyarder swore he would
have nothing to do with him—he (my long friend) was a “bird”
from Sydney, and nothing would make him (the man of little
faith) believe otherwise.

I could not help loving the free-hearted captain; but indignant
at this most unaccountable prejudice against my comrade,
I abruptly took leave.

Upon informing the doctor of the result of the interview, he
was greatly amused; and laughingly declared, that the Vinyarder
must be a penetrating fellow. He then insisted upon
my going to sea in the ship, since he well knew, how anxious I
was to leave. As for himself, on second thoughts, he was no
sailor; and although “landsmen” very often compose part of a
whaler's crew, he did not quite relish the idea of occupying a
position so humble. In short, he had made up his mind to
tarry awhile in Imeeo.

I turned the matter over; and at last decided upon quitting
the island. The impulse urging me to sea once more, and the
prospect of eventually reaching home, were too much to be
resisted; especially, as the Leviathan was so comfortable a

craft, was now bound on her last whaling cruise, and, in little
more than a year's time, would be going round Cape Horn.

I did not, however, covenant to remain in the vessel for the
residue of the voyage; which would have been needlessly
binding myself. I merely stipulated for the coming cruise,
leaving my subsequent movements, unrestrained; for, there
was no knowing that I might not change my mind, and prefer
journeying home by short and easy stages.

The next day I paddled off to the ship, signed and sealed,
and stepped ashore with my “advance”—fifteen Spanish dollars,
tasseling the ends of my neck-handkerchief.

I forced half of the silver on Long Ghost; and having little
use for the remainder, would have given it to Po-Po as some
small return for his kindness; but, although he well knew the
value of the coin, not a dollar would he accept.

In three days time, the Prussian came to Po-Po's, and told us,
that the captain, having made good the number of his crew, by
shipping several islanders, had determined upon sailing with
the land breeze, at dawn the following morning. These tidings
were received in the afternoon. The doctor immediately disappeared,
returning soon after with a couple of flasks of wine concealed
in the folds of his frock. Through the agency of the Marquesan,
he had purchased them from an understrapper of the
court.

I prevailed upon Po-Po to drink a parting shell; and even little
Loo, actually looking conscious that one of her hopeless admirers
was about leaving Partoowye forever, sipped a few drops from
a folded leaf. As for the warm-hearted Arfretee, her grief was
unbounded. She even besought me to spend my last night under
her own palm-thatch; and then, in the morning, she would
herself paddle me off to the ship.

But this I would not consent to; and so, as something to remember
her by, she presented me with a roll of fine matting,

and another of tappa. These gifts placed in my hammock, I
afterward found very agreeable in the warm latitudes to which
we were bound; nor did they fail to awaken most grateful remembrances.

About nightfall, we broke away from this generous-hearted
household, and hurried down to the water.

It was a mad, merry night among the sailors: they had on
tap a small cask of wine, procured in the same way as the doctor's
flasks.

An hour or two after midnight, every thing was noiseless;
but when the first streak of the dawn showed itself over the
mountains, a sharp voice hailed the forecastle, and ordered the
ship unmoored. The anchors came up cheerily; the sails were
soon set; and with the early breath of the tropical morning, fresh
and fragrant from the hillsides, we slowly glided down the bay,
and were swept through the opening in the reef. Presently,
we “hove to,” and the canoes came alongside to take off the
islanders who had accompanied us thus far. As he stepped
over the side, I shook the doctor long and heartily, by the hand.
I have never seen or heard of him since.

Crowding all sail, we braced the yards square; and, the
breeze freshening, bowled straight away from the land. Once
more the sailor's cradle rocked under me, and I found myself
rolling in my gait.

By noon, the island had gone down in the horizon; and all
before us was the wide Pacific.