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.”
