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.
