The morning my comrade left me, as related in the narrative, he was
accompanied by a large party of the natives, some of them carrying fruit
and hogs for the purposes of traffic, as the report had spread that
boats had touched at the bay.
As they proceeded through the settled parts of the valley, numbers
joined them from every side, running with animated cries from every
pathway. So excited were the whole party, that eager as Toby was to gain
the beach, it was almost as much as he could do to keep up with them.
Making the valley ring with their shouts, they hurried along on a swift
trot, those in advance pausing now and then, and flourishing their
weapons to urge the rest forward.
Presently they came to a place where the paths crossed a bend of the
main stream of the valley. Here a strange sound came through the grove
beyond, and the Islanders halted. It was Mow-Mow, the one-eyed chief,
who had gone on before; he was striking his heavy lance against the
hollow bough of a tree.
This was a signal of alarm;--for nothing was now heard but shouts
of ‘Happar! Happar!’--the warriors tilting with their spears and
brandishing them in the air, and the women and boys shouting to each
other, and picking up the stones in the bed of the stream. In a moment
or two Mow-Mow and two or three other chiefs ran out from the grove, and
the din increased ten fold.
Now, thought Toby, for a fray; and being unarmed, he besought one of the
young men domiciled with Marheyo for the loan of his spear. But he was
refused; the youth roguishly telling him that the weapon was very good
for him (the Typee), but that a white man could fight much better with
his fists.
The merry humour of this young wag seemed to be shared by the rest, for
in spite of their warlike cries and gestures, everybody was capering
and laughing, as if it was one of the funniest things in the world to be
awaiting the flight of a score or two of Happar javelins from an ambush
in the thickets.
While my comrade was in vain trying to make out the meaning of all this,
a good number of the natives separated themselves from the rest and ran
off into the grove on one side, the others now keeping perfectly still,
as if awaiting the result. After a little while, however, Mow-Mow, who
stood in advance, motioned them to come on stealthily, which they did,
scarcely rustling a leaf. Thus they crept along for ten or fifteen
minutes, every now and then pausing to listen.
Toby by no means relished this sort of skulking; if there was going to
be a fight, he wanted it to begin at once. But all in good time,--for
just then, as they went prowling into the thickest of the wood, terrific
howls burst upon them on all sides, and volleys of darts and stones flew
across the path. Not an enemy was to be seen, and what was still more
surprising, not a single man dropped, though the pebbles fell among the
leaves like hail.
There was a moment’s pause, when the Typees, with wild shrieks, flung
themselves into the covert, spear in hand; nor was Toby behindhand.
Coming so near getting his skull broken by the stones, and animated by
an old grudge he bore the Happars, he was among the first to dash at
them. As he broke his way through the underbush, trying, as he did
so, to wrest a spear from a young chief, the shouts of battle all of a
sudden ceased, and the wood was as still as death. The next moment, the
party who had left them so mysteriously rushed out from behind every
bush and tree, and united with the rest in long and merry peals of
laughter.
It was all a sham, and Toby, who was quite out of breath with
excitement, was much incensed at being made a fool of.
It afterwards turned out that the whole affair had been concerted for
his particular benefit, though with what precise view it would be hard
to tell. My comrade was the more enraged at this boys’ play, since it
had consumed so much time, every moment of which might be precious.
Perhaps, however, it was partly intended for this very purpose; and he
was led to think so, because when the natives started again, he observed
that they did not seem to be in so great a hurry as before. At last,
after they had gone some distance, Toby, thinking all the while that
they never would get to the sea, two men came running towards them,
and a regular halt ensued, followed by a noisy discussion, during which
Toby’s name was often repeated. All this made him more and more anxious
to learn what was going on at the beach; but it was in vain that he now
tried to push forward; the natives held him back.
In a few moments the conference ended, and many of them ran down the
path in the direction of the water, the rest surrounding Toby, and
entreating him to ‘Moee’, or sit down and rest himself. As an additional
inducement, several calabashes of food, which had been brought along,
were now placed on the ground, and opened, and pipes also were lighted.
Toby bridled his impatience a while, but at last sprang to his feet
and dashed forward again. He was soon overtaken nevertheless, and again
surrounded, but without further detention was then permitted to go down
to the sea.
They came out upon a bright green space between the groves and the
water, and close under the shadow of the Happar mountain, where a path
was seen winding out of sight through a gorge.
No sign of a boat, however, was beheld, nothing but a tumultuous crowd
of men and women, and some one in their midst, earnestly talking to
them. As my comrade advanced, this person came forward and proved to
be no stranger. He was an old grizzled sailor, whom Toby and myself had
frequently seen in Nukuheva, where he lived an easy devil-may-care life
in the household of Mowanna the king, going by the name of ‘Jimmy’.
In fact he was the royal favourite, and had a good deal to say in his
master’s councils. He wore a Manilla hat and a sort of tappa morning
gown, sufficiently loose and negligent to show the verse of a song
tattooed upon his chest, and a variety of spirited cuts by native
artists in other parts of his body. He sported a fishing rod in his
hand, and carried a sooty old pipe slung about his neck.
This old rover having retired from active life, had resided in Nukuheva
some time--could speak the language, and for that reason was frequently
employed by the French as an interpreter. He was an arrant old gossip
too; for ever coming off in his canoe to the ships in the bay, and
regaling their crews with choice little morsels of court scandal--such,
for instance, as a shameful intrigue of his majesty with a Happar
damsel, a public dancer at the feasts--and otherwise relating some
incredible tales about the Marquesas generally. I remember in particular
his telling the Dolly’s crew what proved to be literally a cock-and-bull
story, about two natural prodigies which he said were then on the
island. One was an old monster of a hermit, having a marvellous
reputation for sanctity, and reputed a famous sorcerer, who lived away
off in a den among the mountains, where he hid from the world a
great pair of horns that grew out of his temples. Notwithstanding his
reputation for piety, this horrid old fellow was the terror of all the
island round, being reported to come out from his retreat, and go a
man-hunting every dark night. Some anonymous Paul Pry, too, coming down
the mountain, once got a peep at his den, and found it full of bones. In
short, he was a most unheard-of monster.
The other prodigy Jimmy told us about was the younger son of a chief,
who, although but just turned of ten, had entered upon holy orders,
because his superstitious countrymen thought him especially intended
for the priesthood from the fact of his having a comb on his head like
a rooster. But this was not all; for still more wonderful to relate, the
boy prided himself upon his strange crest, being actually endowed with a
cock’s voice, and frequently crowing over his peculiarity.
But to return to Toby. The moment he saw the old rover on the beach, he
ran up to him, the natives following after, and forming a circle round
them.
After welcoming him to the shore, Jimmy went on to tell him how that he
knew all about our having run away from the ship, and being among the
Typees. Indeed, he had been urged by Mowanna to come over to the valley,
and after visiting his friends there, to bring us back with him, his
royal master being exceedingly anxious to share with him the reward
which had been held out for our capture. He, however, assured Toby that
he had indignantly spurned the offer.
All this astonished my comrade not a little, as neither of us had
entertained the least idea that any white man ever visited the Typees
sociably. But Jimmy told him that such was the case nevertheless,
although he seldom came into the bay, and scarcely ever went back
from the beach. One of the priests of the valley, in some way or other
connected with an old tattooed divine in Nukuheva, was a friend of his,
and through him he was ‘taboo’.
He said, moreover, that he was sometimes employed to come round to the
bay, and engage fruit for ships lying in Nukuheva. In fact, he was now
on that very errand, according to his own account, having just come
across the mountains by the way of Happar. By noon of the next day the
fruit would be heaped up in stacks on the beach, in readiness for the
boats which he then intended to bring into the bay.
Jimmy now asked Toby whether he wished to leave the island--if he did,
there was a ship in want of men lying in the other harbour, and he would
be glad to take him over, and see him on board that very day.
‘No,’ said Toby, ‘I cannot leave the island unless my comrade goes with
me. I left him up the valley because they would not let him come down.
Let us go now and fetch him.’
‘But how is he to cross the mountain with us,’ replied Jimmy, ‘even if
we get him down to the beach? Better let him stay till tomorrow, and I
will bring him round to Nukuheva in the boats.’
‘That will never do,’ said Toby, ‘but come along with me now, and let
us get him down here at any rate,’ and yielding to the impulse of the
moment, he started to hurry back into the valley. But hardly was his
back turned, when a dozen hands were laid on him, and he learned that he
could not go a step further.
It was in vain that he fought with them; they would not hear of his
stirring from the beach. Cut to the heart at this unexpected repulse,
Toby now conjured the sailor to go after me alone. But Jimmy replied,
that in the mood the Typees then were they would not permit him so to
do, though at the same time he was not afraid of their offering him any
harm.
Little did Toby then think, as he afterwards had good reason to suspect,
that this very Jimmy was a heartless villain, who, by his arts, had just
incited the natives to restrain him as he was in the act of going after
me. Well must the old sailor have known, too, that the natives would
never consent to our leaving together, and he therefore wanted to get
Toby off alone, for a purpose which he afterwards made plain. Of all
this, however, my comrade now knew nothing.
He was still struggling with the islanders when Jimmy again came up to
him, and warned him against irritating them, saying that he was only
making matters worse for both of us, and if they became enraged, there
was no telling what might happen. At last he made Toby sit down on a
broken canoe by a pile of stones, upon which was a ruinous little shrine
supported by four upright poles, and in front partly screened by a net.
The fishing parties met there, when they came in from the sea, for their
offerings were laid before an image, upon a smooth black stone within.
This spot Jimmy said was strictly ‘taboo’, and no one would molest or
come near him while he stayed by its shadow. The old sailor then went
off, and began speaking very earnestly to Mow-Mow and some other chiefs,
while all the rest formed a circle round the taboo place, looking
intently at Toby, and talking to each other without ceasing.
Now, notwithstanding what Jimmy had just told him, there presently came
up to my comrade an old woman, who seated herself beside him on the
canoe.
‘Typee motarkee?’ said she. ‘Motarkee nuee,’ said Toby.
She then asked him whether he was going to Nukuheva; he nodded yes; and
with a plaintive wail and her eyes filling with tears she rose and left
him.
This old woman, the sailor afterwards said, was the wife of an aged king
of a small island valley, communicating by a deep pass with the country
of the Typees. The inmates of the two valleys were related to each other
by blood, and were known by the same name. The old woman had gone down
into the Typee valley the day before, and was now with three chiefs, her
sons, on a visit to her kinsmen.
As the old king’s wife left him, Jimmy again came up to Toby, and told
him that he had just talked the whole matter over with the natives, and
there was only one course for him to follow. They would not allow him to
go back into the valley, and harm would certainly come to both him and
me, if he remained much longer on the beach. ‘So,’ said he, ‘you and I
had better go to Nukuheva now overland, and tomorrow I will bring Tommo,
as they call him, by water; they have promised to carry him down to the
sea for me early in the morning, so that there will be no delay.’
‘No, no,’ said Toby desperately, ‘I will not leave him that way; we must
escape together.’
‘Then there is no hope for you,’ exclaimed the sailor, ‘for if I leave
you here on the beach, as soon as I am gone you will be carried back
into the valley, and then neither of you will ever look upon the
sea again.’ And with many oaths he swore that if he would only go to
Nukuheva with him that day, he would be sure to have me there the very
next morning.
‘But how do you know they will bring him down to the beach tomorrow,
when they will not do so today?’ said Toby. But the sailor had many
reasons, all of which were so mixed up with the mysterious customs
of the islanders, that he was none the wiser. Indeed, their conduct,
especially in preventing him from returning into the valley, was
absolutely unaccountable to him; and added to everything else, was the
bitter reflection, that the old sailor, after all, might possibly be
deceiving him. And then again he had to think of me, left alone with the
natives, and by no means well. If he went with Jimmy, he might at least
hope to procure some relief for me. But might not the savages who had
acted so strangely, hurry me off somewhere before his return? Then, even
if he remained, perhaps they would not let him go back into the valley
where I was.
Thus perplexed was my poor comrade; he knew not what to do, and his
courageous spirit was of no use to him now. There he was, all by
himself, seated upon the broken canoe--the natives grouped around him at
a distance, and eyeing him more and more fixedly. ‘It is getting late:
said Jimmy, who was standing behind the rest. ‘Nukuheva is far off, and
I cannot cross the Happar country by night. You see how it is;--if you
come along with me, all will be well; if you do not, depend upon it,
neither of you will ever escape.’
‘There is no help for it,’ said Toby, at last, with a heavy heart, ‘I
will have to trust you,’ and he came out from the shadow of the little
shrine, and cast a long look up the valley.
‘Now keep close to my side,’ said the sailor, ‘and let us be moving
quickly.’ Tinor and Fayaway here appeared; the kindhearted old woman
embracing Toby’s knees, and giving way to a flood of tears; while
Fayaway, hardly less moved, spoke some few words of English she had
learned, and held up three fingers before him--in so many days he would
return.
At last Jimmy pulled Toby out of the crowd, and after calling to a
young Typee who was standing by with a young pig in his arms, all three
started for the mountains.
‘I have told them that you are coming back again,’ said the old fellow,
laughing, as they began the ascent, ‘but they’ll have to wait a long
time.’ Toby turned, and saw the natives all in motion--the girls waving
their tappas in adieu, and the men their spears. As the last figure
entered the grove with one arm raised, and the three fingers spread, his
heart smote him.
As the natives had at last consented to his going, it might have been,
that some of them, at least, really counted upon his speedy return;
probably supposing, as indeed he had told them when they were coming
down the valley, that his only object in leaving them was to procure the
medicines I needed. This, Jimmy also must have told them. And as they
had done before, when my comrade, to oblige me, started on his perilous
journey to Nukuheva, they looked upon me, in his absence, as one of two
inseparable friends who was a sure guaranty for the other’s return.
This is only my own supposition, however, for as to all their strange
conduct, it is still a mystery.
‘You see what sort of a taboo man I am,’ said the sailor, after for some
time silently following the path which led up the mountain. ‘Mow-Mow
made me a present of this pig here, and the man who carries it will
go right through Happar, and down into Nukuheva with us. So long as he
stays by me he is safe, and just so it will be with you, and tomorrow
with Tommo. Cheer up, then, and rely upon me, you will see him in the
morning.’
The ascent of the mountain was not very difficult, owing to its being
near to the sea, where the island ridges are comparatively low; the
path, too, was a fine one, so that in a short time all three were
standing on the summit with the two valleys at their feet. The white
cascade marking the green head of the Typee valley first caught Toby’s
eye; Marheyo’s house could easily be traced by them.
As Jimmy led the way along the ridge, Toby observed that the valley of
the Happars did not extend near so far inland as that of the Typees.
This accounted for our mistake in entering the latter valley as we had.
A path leading down from the mountain was soon seen, and, following it,
the party were in a short time fairly in the Happar valley.
‘Now,’ said Jimmy, as they hurried on, ‘we taboo men have wives in all
the bays, and I am going to show you the two I have here.’
So, when they came to the house where he said they lived,--which was
close by the base of the mountain in a shady nook among the groves--he
went in, and was quite furious at finding it empty--the ladies, had gone
out. However, they soon made their appearance, and to tell the truth,
welcomed Jimmy quite cordially, as well as Toby, about whom they were
very inquisitive. Nevertheless, as the report of their arrival spread,
and the Happars began to assemble, it became evident that the appearance
of a white stranger among them was not by any means deemed so wonderful
an event as in the neighbouring valley.
The old sailor now bade his wives prepare something to eat, as he must
be in Nukuheva before dark. A meal of fish, bread-fruit, and bananas,
was accordingly served up, the party regaling themselves on the mats, in
the midst of a numerous company.
The Happars put many questions to Jimmy about Toby; and Toby himself
looked sharply at them, anxious to recognize the fellow who gave him the
wound from which he was still suffering. But this fiery gentleman, so
handy with his spear, had the delicacy, it seemed, to keep out of view.
Certainly the sight of him would not have been any added inducement to
making a stay in the valley,--some of the afternoon loungers in Happar
having politely urged Toby to spend a few days with them,--there was a
feast coming on. He, however, declined.
All this while the young Typee stuck to Jimmy like his shadow, and
though as lively a dog as any of his tribe, he was now as meek as
a lamb, never opening his mouth except to eat. Although some of the
Happars looked queerly at him, others were more civil, and seemed
desirous of taking him abroad and showing him the valley. But the Typee
was not to be cajoled in that way. How many yards he would have to
remove from Jimmy before the taboo would be powerless, it would be hard
to tell, but probably he himself knew to a fraction.
On the promise of a red cotton handkerchief, and something else which he
kept secret, this poor fellow had undertaken a rather ticklish journey,
though, as far as Toby could ascertain, it was something that had never
happened before.
The island-punch--arva--was brought in at the conclusion of the repast,
and passed round in a shallow calabash.
Now my comrade, while seated in the Happar house, began to feel more
troubled than ever at leaving me; indeed, so sad did he feel that he
talked about going back to the valley, and wanted Jimmy to escort him
as far as the mountains. But the sailor would not listen to him, and, by
way of diverting his thoughts, pressed him to drink of the arva. Knowing
its narcotic nature, he refused; but Jimmy said he would have something
mixed with it, which would convert it into an innocent beverage that
would inspirit them for the rest of their journey. So at last he was
induced to drink of it, and its effects were just as the sailor had
predicted; his spirits rose at once, and all his gloomy thoughts left
him.
The old rover now began to reveal his true character, though he was
hardly suspected at the time. ‘If I get you off to a ship,’ said he,
‘you will surely give a poor fellow something for saving you.’ In short,
before they left the house, he made Toby promise that he would give him
five Spanish dollars if he succeeded in getting any part of his wages
advanced from the vessel, aboard of which they were going; Toby,
moreover, engaging to reward him still further, as soon as my
deliverance was accomplished.
A little while after this they started again, accompanied by many of the
natives, and going up the valley, took a steep path near its head,
which led to Nukuheva. Here the Happars paused and watched them as they
ascended the mountain, one group of bandit-looking fellows, shaking
their spears and casting threatening glances at the poor Typee, whose
heart as well as heels seemed much the lighter when he came to look down
upon them.
On gaining the heights once more, their way led for a time along several
ridges covered with enormous ferns. At last they entered upon a wooded
tract, and here they overtook a party of Nukuheva natives, well armed,
and carrying bundles of long poles. Jimmy seemed to know them all very
well, and stopped for a while, and had a talk about the ‘Wee-Wees’, as
the people of Nukuheva call the Monsieurs.
The party with the poles were King Mowanna’s men, and by his orders they
had been gathering them in the ravines for his allies the French.
Leaving these fellows to trudge on with their loads, Toby and his
companions now pushed forward again, as the sun was already low in the
west. They came upon the valleys of Nukuheva on one side of the bay,
where the highlands slope off into the sea. The men-of-war were still
lying in the harbour, and as Toby looked down upon them, the strange
events which had happened so recently, seemed all a dream.
They soon descended towards the beach, and found themselves in Jimmy’s
house before it was well dark. Here he received another welcome from
his Nukuheva wives, and after some refreshments in the shape of cocoanut
milk and poee-poee, they entered a canoe (the Typee of course going
along) and paddled off to a whaleship which was anchored near the shore.
This was the vessel in want of men. Our own had sailed some time before.
The captain professed great pleasure at seeing Toby, but thought from
his exhausted appearance that he must be unfit for duty. However, he
agreed to ship him, as well as his comrade, as soon as he should arrive.
Toby begged hard for an armed boat, in which to go round to Typee and
rescue me, notwithstanding the promises of Jimmy. But this the captain
would not hear of, and told him to have patience, for the sailor would
be faithful to his word. When, too, he demanded the five silver dollars
for Jimmy, the captain was unwilling to give them. But Toby insisted
upon it, as he now began to think that Jimmy might be a mere mercenary,
who would be sure to prove faithless if not well paid. Accordingly he
not only gave him the money, but took care to assure him, over and over
again, that as soon as he brought me aboard he would receive a still
larger sum.
Before sun-rise the next day, Jimmy and the Typee started in two of the
ship’s boats, which were manned by tabooed natives. Toby, of course, was
all eagerness to go along, but the sailor told him that if he did, it
would spoil all; so, hard as it was, he was obliged to remain.
Towards evening he was on the watch, and descried the boats turning the
headland and entering the bay. He strained his eyes, and thought he saw
me; but I was not there. Descending from the mast almost distracted, he
grappled Jimmy as he struck the deck, shouting in a voice that startled
him, ‘Where is Tommo?’ The old fellow faltered, but soon recovering,
did all he could to soothe him, assuring him that it had proved to be
impossible to get me down to the shore that morning; assigning many
plausible reasons, and adding that early on the morrow he was going to
visit the bay again in a French boat, when, if he did not find me on the
beach--as this time he certainly expected to--he would march right back
into the valley, and carry me away at all hazards. He, however, again
refused to allow Toby to accompany him. Now, situated as Toby was, his
sole dependence for the present was upon this Jimmy, and therefore he
was fain to comfort himself as well as he could with what the old sailor
told him. The next morning, however, he had the satisfaction of seeing
the French boat start with Jimmy in it. Tonight, then, I will see him,
thought Toby; but many a long day passed before he ever saw Tommo again.
Hardly was the boat out of sight, when the captain came forward and
ordered the anchor weighed; he was going to sea.
Vain were all Toby’s ravings--they were disregarded; and when he came to
himself, the sails were set, and the ship fast leaving the land.
... ‘Oh!’ said he to me at our meeting, ‘what sleepless nights were
mine. Often I started from my hammock, dreaming you were before me, and
upbraiding me for leaving you on the island.’
. . . . . . .
There is little more to be related. Toby left this vessel at New
Zealand, and after some further adventures, arrived home in less than
two years after leaving the Marquesas. He always thought of me as
dead--and I had every reason to suppose that he too was no more; but a
strange meeting was in store for us, one which made Toby’s heart all the
lighter.