CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

THE SPRING OF ARVA WAI--REMARKABLE MONUMENTAL REMAINS--SOME IDEAS WITH

REGARD TO THE HISTORY OF THE PI-PIS FOUND IN THE VALLEY

Almost every country has its medicinal springs famed for their healing

virtues. The Cheltenham of Typee is embosomed in the deepest solitude,

and but seldom receives a visitor. It is situated remote from any

dwelling, a little way up the mountain, near the head of the valley; and

you approach it by a pathway shaded by the most beautiful foliage, and

adorned with a thousand fragrant plants.

The mineral waters of Arva Wai* ooze forth from the crevices of a rock,

and gliding down its mossy side, fall at last, in many clustering

drops, into a natural basin of stone fringed round with grass and

dewy-looking little violet-coloured flowers, as fresh and beautiful as

the perpetual moisture they enjoy can make them.

*I presume this might be translated into ‘Strong Waters’. Arva is the

name bestowed upon a root the properties of which are both inebriating

and medicinal. ‘Wai’ is the Marquesan word for water.

The water is held in high estimation by the islanders, some of whom

consider it an agreeable as well as a medicinal beverage; they bring it

from the mountain in their calabashes, and store it away beneath heaps

of leaves in some shady nook near the house. Old Marheyo had a great

love for the waters of the spring. Every now and then he lugged off to

the mountain a great round demijohn of a calabash, and, panting with his

exertions, brought it back filled with his darling fluid.

The water tasted like a solution of a dozen disagreeable things, and was

sufficiently nauseous to have made the fortune of the proprietor, had

the spa been situated in the midst of any civilized community.

As I am no chemist, I cannot give a scientific analysis of the water.

All I know about the matter is, that one day Marheyo in my presence

poured out the last drop from his huge calabash, and I observed at the

bottom of the vessel a small quantity of gravelly sediment very much

resembling our common sand. Whether this is always found in the water,

and gives it its peculiar flavour and virtues, or whether its presence

was merely incidental, I was not able to ascertain.

One day in returning from this spring by a circuitous path, I came upon

a scene which reminded me of Stonehenge and the architectural labours of

the Druids.

At the base of one of the mountains, and surrounded on all sides by

dense groves, a series of vast terraces of stone rises, step by step,

for a considerable distance up the hill side. These terraces cannot

be less than one hundred yards in length and twenty in width. Their

magnitude, however, is less striking than the immense size of the blocks

composing them. Some of the stones, of an oblong shape, are from ten

to fifteen feet in length, and five or six feet thick. Their sides are

quite smooth, but though square, and of pretty regular formation, they

bear no mark of the chisel. They are laid together without cement, and

here and there show gaps between. The topmost terrace and the lower

one are somewhat peculiar in their construction. They have both a

quadrangular depression in the centre, leaving the rest of the terrace

elevated several feet above it. In the intervals of the stones immense

trees have taken root, and their broad boughs stretching far over, and

interlacing together, support a canopy almost impenetrable to the sun.

Overgrowing the greater part of them, and climbing from one to another,

is a wilderness of vines, in whose sinewy embrace many of the stones

lie half-hidden, while in some places a thick growth of bushes entirely

covers them. There is a wild pathway which obliquely crosses two of

these terraces; and so profound is the shade, so dense the vegetation,

that a stranger to the place might pass along it without being aware of

their existence.

These structures bear every indication of a very high antiquity and

Kory-Kory, who was my authority in all matters of scientific research,

gave me to understand that they were coeval with the creation of the

world; that the great gods themselves were the builders; and that they

would endure until time shall be no more.

Kory-Kory’s prompt explanation and his attributing the work to a

divine origin, at once convinced me that neither he nor the rest of his

country-men knew anything about them.

As I gazed upon this monument, doubtless the work of an extinct and

forgotten race, thus buried in the green nook of an island at the ends

of the earth, the existence of which was yesterday unknown, a stronger

feeling of awe came over me than if I had stood musing at the mighty

base of the Pyramid of Cheops. There are no inscriptions, no sculpture,

no clue, by which to conjecture its history; nothing but the dumb

stones. How many generations of the majestic trees which overshadow them

have grown and flourished and decayed since first they were erected!

These remains naturally suggest many interesting reflections. They

establish the great age of the island, an opinion which the builders

of theories concerning, the creation of the various groups in the South

Seas are not always inclined to admit. For my own part, I think it

just as probable that human beings were living in the valleys of the

Marquesas three thousand years ago as that they were inhabiting the land

of Egypt. The origin of the island of Nukuheva cannot be imputed to the

coral insect; for indefatigable as that wonderful creature is, it would

be hardly muscular enough to pile rocks one upon the other more than

three thousand feet above the level of the sea. That the land may have

been thrown up by a submarine volcano is as possible as anything else.

No one can make an affidavit to the contrary, and therefore I still say

nothing against the supposition: indeed, were geologists to assert that

the whole continent of America had in like manner been formed by the

simultaneous explosion of a train of Etnas laid under the water all the

way from the North Pole to the parallel of Cape Horn, I am the last man

in the world to contradict them.

I have already mentioned that the dwellings of the islanders were almost

invariably built upon massive stone foundations, which they call pi-pis.

The dimensions of these, however, as well as of the stones composing

them, are comparatively small: but there are other and larger erections

of a similar description comprising the ‘morais’, or burying grounds,

and festival-places, in nearly all the valleys of the island. Some of

these piles are so extensive, and so great a degree of labour and skill

must have been requisite in constructing them, that I can scarcely

believe they were built by the ancestors of the present inhabitants. If

indeed they were, the race has sadly deteriorated in their knowledge of

the mechanic arts. To say nothing of their habitual indolence, by what

contrivance within the reach of so simple a people could such enormous

masses have been moved or fixed in their places? and how could they with

their rude implements have chiselled and hammered them into shape?

All of these larger pi-pis--like that of the Hoolah Hoolah ground in the

Typee valley--bore incontestible marks of great age; and I am disposed

to believe that their erection may be ascribed to the same race of men

who were the builders of the still more ancient remains I have just

described.

According to Kory-Kory’s account, the pi-pi upon which stands the Hoolah

Hoolah ground was built a great many moons ago, under the direction of

Monoo, a great chief and warrior, and, as it would appear, master-mason

among the Typees. It was erected for the express purpose to which it is

at present devoted, in the incredibly short period of one sun; and was

dedicated to the immortal wooden idols by a grand festival, which lasted

ten days and nights.

Among the smaller pi-pis, upon which stand the dwelling-houses of the

natives, I never observed any which intimated a recent erection. There

are in every part of the valley a great many of these massive stone

foundations which have no houses upon them. This is vastly convenient,

for whenever an enterprising islander chooses to emigrate a few hundred

yards from the place where he was born, all he has to do in order to

establish himself in some new locality, is to select one of the many

unappropriated pi-pis, and without further ceremony pitch his bamboo

tent upon it.

Typee: A Romance of the South Seas · 第 29 / 47 题