67. CHAPTER LXVII.
THE JOURNEY ROUND THE BEACH.
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.
