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.
