THE ROYAL PROGRESS ROUND MOOREA—THE SEIGNELAY STARTS FOR THE MARQUESAS
AND PAUMOTUS—INDECISION.
_Chez_ REV. JAMES GREEN, PAPEETE,
_Sunday, 4th Nov._
DEAREST NELL,—All the others have gone off to the Tahitian church. As I
find, from long experience, that attending service in an unknown tongue
tends to produce habits of the strictest inattention, I thought I might
as well stay at home and have a talk with you. We returned from Moorea
yesterday, and I am still very tired. This expedition has been very
fatiguing, and somewhat bewildering, from the manner in which everything
was hurried; there was really no time to enjoy anything; it was all a
rush to get over the ground.
For some reason unknown, the admiral determined to accomplish the grand
round in two days, which did not allow of a halt at half the districts.
This was the more tantalising as the island is indescribably lovely, and
I longed to linger at every point. The day of our start was equally
hurried, and the people had received such very short notice, that they
were quite unprepared for the royal visit, and somewhat disconcerted in
consequence. And then the combination of mourning with ceremonial
rejoicing was a very distressing element.
On Thursday morning one of the Seignelay boats came here to take me on
board at 7 A.M., and soon afterwards the king and queen arrived,
escorted by the admiral and many officers of La Magicienne. Mrs Brander
and all her family party soon followed. But our wonted gaiety was
altogether lacking, for there was a solemn presence in our midst, and we
all knew that beneath the Union-jack, which was spread as a pall, lay
the coffin containing the remains of one very dear to many in these
isles. Her husband was buried on Moorea, near the spot where his
daughter now lives; and now the two faithful workers have been laid side
by side in this far country
Two hours steaming brought us to Vaianae Bay, whence we rowed ashore to
Afareaitu, a distance of about two miles. Thence the boats returned to
the Seignelay, which proceeded to the other side of the isle to find
good anchorage.
On landing, we were received by the head men, in very fine _tiputas_
(the much-decorated upper garment of native cloth). These they presented
to the admiral and the king. But our arrival was so premature, that the
reception was on a small scale—the people not having had time to
assemble. After breakfast I secured a rapid outline of the strange
beautiful hills, then we had to hurry away, in excellent boats, the
property of Tahitians.
As we rowed along inside the reef, each turn revealed new marvels of
that most lovely coast, which combines the softest beauties of rich
foliage with the most weird grandeur of mountain gloom. The island is by
far the most wonderful I have ever seen. Just one confused mass of
basaltic crags and pinnacles, lofty ridges, so narrow that here and
there where some part has broken away you can see the sky through an
opening like the eye of a needle. Nature seems to have here built up
gigantic rock-fortresses, mighty bastions and towers which reach up into
heaven; pyramids, before which those of Gizeh would appear as pigmies,
and minarets such as the builders of the Kootub never dreamt of. It is
as though some huge mountain of rock had been rent asunder, and its
fragments left standing upright in stupendous splinters. Some one has
unpleasantly compared these to asses’ ears, and I am fain to confess
that the description is good, so far as outline is concerned.
I had caught glimpses of some of these amazing stone needles and towers
as we passed Moorea on the first morning, but then they only appeared
mysteriously through the drifting vapours, which idealise and magnify
the most commonplace crags. Now there were no mists, and the huge
pinnacles stood out sharp and clear against a cloudless sky, while far
below them the riven rocks lay seamed by narrow chasms—dark sunless
ravines, moist with the spray of many waterfalls, and rich with all
green things that love warm misty shade.
I believe that when reduced to figures, the mountains of Moorea are
found to average only half the height of those in Tahiti, the latter
rising to upwards of 7000 feet, while the highest peak of Moorea,
Afareaitu, is only 3976 feet. But the strangely varied forms of the
latter are so remarkable, that a few thousand feet more or less seem a
matter of indifference.
I did long to crave a few moments’ halt from time to time, to secure
ever so slight an outline of some specially striking scene, but of
course I dared not suggest it, as we were evidently bound to “make good
time” (that crime in travelling, which so many mistake for a virtue).
The result was, that we reached Haapiti at 2 P.M. Mrs Brander, who had
hurried on at once to make her preparations, had counted on our not
arriving till four at the earliest, so of course nothing was ready.
The admiral went to examine schools, and I lost no time in settling down
to a large sketch of the beautiful and fairy-like scene—the grand
mountain amphitheatre of stupendous crags and precipices, a middle
distance of richest foliage, and in the foreground, on a lawn of
greenest turf, the pretty temporary building of palm and bamboo, erected
for the banquet. The interior was lined with tree-ferns and bunches of
rosy oleander, and festooned with many hundred yards of deep fringe made
of hybiscus fibre. The thatch was entirely composed of the long glossy
fronds of birds’-nest fern,[50] which, being tough and leathery, make a
good permanent thatch, and one which lasts much longer than
banana-leaves, though, of course, it is more troublesome to arrange in
the first instance. It seems too bad to sacrifice such an incredible
number of these beautiful plants. The only consolation is, that they
grow in places so inaccessible that no human eye ever beholds them, save
that of the goat-like cragsman who explores the deep ravines in search
of the wild _faees_, which constitute the principal article of food on
these isles.
[Illustration:
A ROYAL RECEPTION. HAAPITI. ISLE MOOREA.
]
Shortly before sunset all the people of the district assembled, each
with a piece of yellow native cloth thrown over their black dresses like
a shawl, to symbolise joy in sorrow. They formed an immense procession,
headed by Mrs Brander as high chiefess. She was dressed entirely in
black, only relieved by a most becoming crown of glossy white arrowroot,
with a plume of snowy _reva-reva_. Immediately after her followed the
gentlemen of her family, wearing very beautiful _tiputas_ of bread-fruit
bark cloth, covered with ornaments and flowers made of arrowroot and
bamboo fibre, and all fringed with the delicate _reva-reva_. They made
an address and sang the _himènes_ of welcome which should have greeted
the royalties on their landing. Then the chiefs presented their
beautiful garments to the principal persons present, and all the people
laid their yellow scarves and pretty hats at their feet. One of the
_tiputas_ was intended for me, but as I sat apart to see the general
picture, it was unfortunately given to some one else; but Mrs Brander
reserved for me a most delicate hand-screen of the finest fibre.
Then followed a great dinner, admirable in every respect, the pretty
booth being illuminated by a multitude of Chinese lanterns; and the
_himène_ singing, which was continued at intervals all the evening, was
particularly good. The sleeping arrangements were less satisfactory,
there having been no time to make preparations for so large a party; so
my hostess had only reserved one tiny room for herself, two children,
two native women, and me. It was a foreign house, with windows. These
were tightly closed, and a bright lamp kept burning all night,—both
circumstances fatal to all chance of sleep,—so I preferred a shake-down
in the sitting-room. Unfortunately, my experience of the luxuries of
Tahiti had induced me to travel without my own mosquito-net; and the
attacks of these persistent foes, combined with the perpetual movement
of locomotive women, incessantly opening the door at my head and
admitting a stream of bright light, effectually banished all hope of
sleep. It was a night of feverish unrest,—a bad preparation for the
morrow.
Again came a hurried morning start in good native boats,—the coast,
beautiful as that of yesterday. We had a strong wind and tide against
us, and made slow progress. After a severe pull of three hours, we
stopped at a point where the rowers landed to rest and get cocoa-nuts;
but hordes of mosquitoes attacked and routed us, even following us on
our way. Finally we landed, and walked the last two miles to Papetoai,
on Opunohu Bay, where the Seignelay anchored last night.
Mrs Simpson’s body was brought ashore this morning, and as the people
were all too much fussed to mourn their old friend and clerical mother
(at least externally), the coffin was carried to the church by French
sailors; and they and their officers were the only persons present,
besides the immediate relations, at a sort of preliminary service held
by M. Brun, the Protestant pastor.
Breakfast, chiefly consisting of omelets which had been cooked at 7
A.M., was not served till noon; and as I had only succeeded in securing
a bit of biscuit before starting, I was so famished that one of the
officers went to forage on my account, and returned in triumph with a
yard of bread! This proved so satisfying, that, craving permission to
escape from the formal meal, I returned on board with my old shipmates,
and secured a careful drawing of the wonderfully lovely mountains ere
the rest of the party came on board. One young sailor came to great
grief in trying to climb a cocoa-nut tree—an operation which appears
very easy to the expert islanders, but sorely puzzles a foreigner. This
poor lad fell from a considerable height, breaking his arm and severely
injuring his head. So the kind doctor had his hands full, and no time to
enjoy the beautiful scenery.
We steamed round to Pao Pao, commonly known as Cook’s Bay, which is also
very fine. Here we left the steamer, and, taking to the boats, rowed
four miles to Tiaia, which is a pretty village by the sea. On one side
of it there is a splendid grove of glossy-leaved _tamanu_ trees, and a
few fine old iron-wood trees—the casuarina—all that now remains of what
was once a very sacred grove surrounding the ancient _marae_. Now the
Christian church occupies the site where formerly human sacrifices were
offered to the cruel gods. At a distance of about two miles from this
village there is a brackish lake—Lake Temae—about a mile in length. It
contains good fish, and many wild duck haunt its sedgy and very muddy
shores. Under the impression that it was very much nearer, I joined the
exploring party. We had to make a _détour_ of some length, and found no
beauty to compensate for a very fatiguing walk of upwards of four miles,
which, combined with that of the morning, quite finished me. I could not
even sit up for the evening _himènes_, which was a matter of real
regret, as the singers here are considered the very best in the group.
Several of the women have very fine falsetto voices.
[Illustration:
PAO PAO, OR COOK’S BAY. ISLE MOOREA.
]
To my great delight, in apportioning our quarters, M. Hardouin, A.D.C.,
awarded me a tiny house all to myself—the owners kept only the outer
room; and when they went off to join the _himènes_ they locked the door
to keep their charge safe. Happily one of my friends on the Seignelay
had lent me a mosquito-net, so I slept the blessed, dreamless sleep of
the weary.
In the morning at 6 A.M., as I was dressing leisurely for 7 o’clock
coffee, Queen Marau rushed in to say the admiral was all ready for a 6
o’clock start. Thereupon followed a horrid hurry-scurry to get ready,
and a four miles’ row back to the vessel. At 7.30 she was under way, and
at 10 A.M. we were at anchor in Papeete harbour.
Altogether this has been a most tantalising expedition, an
unsatisfactory hurrying over scenes of surpassing beauty. Mrs Brander
says that if I will stay some time longer in Tahiti she will take me
back there and let me pasture at leisure in that artists’ paradise. Fain
would I linger,—indeed all manner of delightful ploys are proposed, but
all involve time, and I have promised to meet Lady Gordon at Christmas,
either at Auckland or Sydney, according to what I hear at Honolulu, so I
must not lose the chance of the first vessel to the Sandwich Isles.
_Tuesday, 6th._
It has been decided that one of Mrs Brander’s vessels, the Maramma
(_i.e._, the Moon), is to start for Honolulu on Saturday, so that
settles the time of my departure from Tahiti. It is also announced that
on Thursday the Seignelay is to be sent off to the Marquesas, to convey
a force of gendarmes to inquire into some recent outbreaks of
cannibalism. Mrs Brander has been most kindly renewing her invitation to
me to stay with her till the next trip of the Maramma to Honolulu—a
matter of two months! It is most tempting, but I feel bound to go. At
the band to-night, Mr Darsie, manager of the _Maison Brandère_,
expressed his astonishment that I should lose such a chance of seeing
the Marquesas and the Paumotus, adding that the manager of the business
for those groups was going to take the trip, and would enable me to see
everything to the greatest advantage, and the ship is to return here in
a fortnight. Certainly it would be quite delightful, but what _is_ the
use of suggesting the impossible?
_Wednesday, 7th._
Early this morning we went on board the Maramma to see the cabin which
Mrs Brander has kindly reserved for me—the best in the ship. It made me
sad to look at it and to think that it is to carry me away for ever from
this supremely lovely South Sea paradise. All to-day we have had a
succession of visits from my kind friends of the Seignelay, to urge my
giving up Honolulu in favour of Les Marquises, or, if that could not be,
to _faire les adieux_. At the very last came M. de Gironde, who is
always my good genius, to try and prove that it was not too late to
change my mind, and that his cabin was at my disposal as before. Surely
there never was a ship full of such kind people. Of course it would be
quite delightful to go and see another lot of beautiful isles; but after
all, I suppose they are very much like these, and my brain already feels
overcrowded with pictures, each lovelier than the last. So, for every
reason, it seems best to stand true to my tryst, and be content with a
run to the volcanoes, and then drop down to the comparatively
commonplace scenes of Australia or New Zealand.
This has been quite a sad day of farewells. We dined with the Verniers
and afterwards went to the admiral’s reception—a very pretty and
animated dance.
_Thursday, 8th._
At nine this morning the Seignelay steamed close past our windows, and
great was the farewell waving of hats and handkerchiefs. I grieve to
part from the many kind companions of so many pleasant days (and of sad
ones too); and I would fain be going on with the good ship now, for I
sorely regret the approaching end of my travels in these parts.
To-night we dined at Mrs Brander’s. The party included a large number of
officers from the Magicienne. It was a farewell entertainment, as Mrs
Brander’s son Aleck and Mr Darsie both go to Honolulu in the Maramma
(the latter _en route_ to England). They too are going to see the
volcanoes; but if they are rightly informed concerning the trips of the
little Hawaiian steamer, I begin to have very grave doubts of the
possibility of my visiting the southern isles at all, if I attempt to
carry out my programme, even supposing we have a fair wind and quick
passage to Honolulu, which is more than doubtful.
_Friday, 9th._
A wretched sleepless night, worrying over plans. Difficulties always do
exaggerate themselves so absurdly if one lies awake. Out at daybreak to
get a sketch from the shore. It is all working against time, and my heap
of unfinished drawings is a serious nightmare. I have been struggling to
get several duplicate sketches finished for various friends, and I feel
like a graphic barrel-organ—an unreasoning machine for the
multiplication of drawings; and the ever-recurring thought arises, Why
not stay and have the delight of working from nature, as the kind
friends here advise, when after all it is more than probable that the
Christmas tryst will fall through? But anyhow, I have missed the chance
of Les Marquises, and it would seem too silly to change my mind now.
Mrs Brander came to-day to say good-bye, but added emphatically, “You’re
not gone yet, however!” There’s no doubt that her invitation to stay on
is quite _bonâ fide_; but for two months at least! What a visitation to
inflict on any one!
Mrs Miller drove me to call on the Bishop of Axièri, Monseigneur Tepano
Janssen, who is most kind and courteous. He showed us all over his
grounds, which are literally a garden of acclimatisation, so numerous
are the useful plants of other lands which he is endeavouring to
introduce. It is greatly due to his care that the mangoes of Tahiti have
been brought to such perfection. The conversation turned on many
subjects of interest. Amongst other things, speaking of the effect of
many mingled sounds, he told us of the deafening noise produced by the
cries of sea-birds on some of the isles where he has touched, on one of
which he witnessed a strange instance of combined action by myriads of
sea-birds and herons; the former, diving simultaneously, produced a
noise like a thunder-clap as they struck the water. The dignified herons
profited by their neighbours’ work, and waited on the shore ready to
catch the startled fish as they fled affrighted from the divers.
This evening the admiral invited Mrs Miller, Madame Fayzeau, and myself,
to dine on board La Magicienne. She is a very fine old-fashioned
frigate, with vast accommodation, splendid broad decks of great length.
The admiral has a large dining-room, and a sitting-room the size of an
average drawing-room, with four large square windows opening into a
gallery round the stern—a charming lounge in fine weather. Commandant
Beïque has rooms equally pretty, on the same level, each with a large
square window (I cannot call them ports). They are so high above the
water that they scarcely ever have to be closed—a true boon in the
tropics. I never saw so roomy a ship. With all her big guns, five
hundred sailors, and thirty officers, there was no symptom of crowding.
Amongst the officers are two belonging to the Peruvian navy, who have
come to study the French system of navigation. One of these is
remarkable for his diminutive size and extraordinary strength; the
biggest men in the ship cannot wrestle with him, nor fight him (in
sport).
After dinner we adjourned to Government House grounds to hear the band
play, as usual; then all walked back by the shore to the British
consulate, for a farewell evening, and finished it here in this sweet
homelike nest. I do grieve that it should be the last evening, the more
so as I am beginning to believe that what all my friends here agree in
saying must be true—namely, that when I made my vague calculation of
reaching Sydney for Christmas, it was on the principle of Jules Verne’s
‘Round the World in Eighty Days.’ They say that to attempt fitting the
Sandwich Isles volcanoes into the time is preposterous folly. I think
they are right, but it is too late to change now. What further concerns
me is the thought, which had not previously presented itself, that very
likely, after all this pushing and scrambling, and spoiling everything
by useless hurry, Lady Gordon may have given up the idea, and may stay
quietly in Fiji till she is obliged to take the children direct to
England,[51] and I may never know this till I reach Sydney.
_Saturday, 10th._
Another weary night—perplexing and conflicting suggestions—the horrid
feeling of being disloyal to a tryst, yet the certainty that nowhere
else shall I find such beauty as I am leaving. Those unsketched
dolomites of Moorea—those ferny ravines all unexplored—those glorious
valleys of bread-fruit—the _himènes_ that I shall never hear again! And
every one agrees in telling me that the Hawaiian Isles are not to
compare with these in beauty,—that the hills are comparatively
shapeless, the foliage poor, the bread-fruit sickly and blighted, the
cocoa-palms mere ghosts of their southern relations, and the mangoes
miserable fruits, not worthy to bear the same name as the luscious
mangoes of Tahiti. They tell me, too, that the people are much less
attractive; that they have taken on so much blunt civilisation, that
they have lost whatever native grace they may have once possessed. Even
the same garment—the flowing _sacque_—is there worn so short and full
that it is scarcely to be recognised, and instead of floating drapery it
becomes a mere dress.[52]
Well, I must now begin my packing. There will be time enough for writing
before we reach Honolulu.
PAPEETE, _Saturday Afternoon_.
Jubilate! Jubilate! The Maramma is to start in an hour, but will leave
me to revel in South Sea loveliness till her next trip. This morning,
just as I was putting the finishing touches to my packing—I must confess
very much _contre-cœur_, and quite in the vein of Eve’s lamentation,
“Must I leave thee, Paradise?”—up drove pretty Queen Marau and her
handsome sister Moetia, who carried the position by assault,—vowed it
was not too late to change a foolish plan; so leaving Moetia with her
cousin Moë, Marau made me jump into her pony-phaeton and drove me
straight off to Fautawa, where her sister Titaua, Mrs Brander, was
giving a great entertainment to all her _employés_, previous to her
son’s departure for Honolulu. Then and there she made me recant all my
previous protestations and refusals of her most hospitable invitations,
and in two seconds all was settled. I am to be her guest till the
Maramma returns, and is again sent to Honolulu.
Now that it is all settled, I feel quite satisfied and reprieved; so
instead of a long letter written on board ship, I must despatch this as
it is. We are just hurrying to the wharf to say good-bye to our friends,
and then I look forward to a grand night’s rest, for I am thoroughly
tired.
I have been hoping against hope that a letter might reach me here, _viâ_
New Zealand; but the schooner thence is about a month overdue, and it is
feared she has gone on a reef. Good-bye.—Your loving sister.