CHAPTER XVIII.

TAHITIAN HOSPITALITY—A SOUTH SEA STORE—A BATHING PICNIC—THE

MARQUESANS—TATTOOING—ANCIENT GAMES OF TAHITI—MALAY DESCENT—THEORY OF A

NORTHERLY MIGRATION.

LA MAISON BRANDÈRE, PAPEETE,

_Wednesday, 21st_.

Already ten days have slipped away since we watched the Maramma sail for

Honolulu, and each morning I awake with a feeling of pleasure that I am

still in this delightful isle. Would that you could look on the lovely

scene on which my eyes rest with the first glimmer of dawn, and which

now lies outspread before me, as I sit in this cool verandah opening off

my large bedroom on the upper storey! It is a verandah all closed in

with _jalousies_, screening its occupants from the outside world; while

they, themselves unseen, look down on the brightest, most animated scene

you can imagine.

Long before sunrise the pretty native boats, with double sails, arrive

from all parts of the isle, bringing their cargo of fish and fruit for

the market, which is held in a large building in the town. But as the

boats are unloaded, their wares are outspread on the grass just below

these windows, and the most active housewives and purveyors for the

ships come here to secure the first choice of luscious fruits and of

fishes, as beautiful to the eye as they are tempting to the palate.

These are of every shade of blue and green, scarlet and crimson, and

pale yellow with lilac stripes. The large bright-green fish are

generally eaten raw; and occasionally the purchasers, whose appetites

are sharpened by the fresh morning air, cannot resist an early breakfast

_al fresco_. The air is balmy and delicious, like a heavenly midsummer

morning in Europe; and all the girls have light woollen shawls. (Real

Scotch tartans are in high favour, and are worn in true Highland

fashion, over one shoulder and round the body.)

The fruit-supply is brought in large baskets. Just now there are

quantities of mangoes, oranges, and Abercarder pears (_des avocats_ they

are called here, where French permeates all things, as it did in England

when the Norman conquerors changed Saxon oxen, sheep, and hens, to beef,

mutton, and fowls). But these minor fruits are trifling luxuries. The

mainstay of life is the _faees_ or wild banana, which here takes the

place of the yams and _taro_ of the groups further west.

I think I have already described this peculiar plant, which bears its

enormous bunch of fruit growing upright from the centre of its crown of

large leaves, instead of drooping below them, as is the manner of all

other bananas and plantains. These clusters vary from two to four feet

in length; and I constantly see a bunch so long and so heavy, that it is

carried to market slung from a pole, resting on the shoulders of two

men, just as in the old pictures of the Israelitish spies bearing the

grapes of Eshcol, which were the delight of our childhood. It must be

toilsome work to carry these weighty spoils of the mountains from the

remote ravines where they chiefly flourish.

All these heaps of golden fruit form a brilliant foreground to the

beautiful harbour beyond, which at this early hour reflects only the

pale, glowing daffodil hues of a cloudless sky, against which the

exquisite outline of Moorea stands out in clear relief. Suddenly its

delicate pearly grey is flushed with rose colour, as the first ray of

the rising sun touches those lofty summits, and veinings of tender blue

mark the course of deep glens and corries, or the shadows cast by

prominent crags and pinnacles.

Nearer—so near, indeed, that we can distinguish friendly faces on the

decks—lie the French men-of-war; and as the light touches them, their

dead white changes to cream colour, and they and their unfurled sails,

and the clothes hung out to dry, are all reflected in the calm water.

So, too, are the various trading ships, and the great hulk of a large

iron vessel, which caught fire fifteen months ago when she was near the

Marquesas. Her crew took to their boats, and two of these arrived here

safely. A good while after, the deserted ship, still burning, drifted

down towards here. The Seignelay went out and towed in the wreck. She

had been laden with coal, and this had run into a sort of semi-fluid,

tarry condition, and to this hour it is still smouldering; and after a

shower of rain, steam and smoke still rise from the poor old hulk, which

is so red from rust that you would think she had been painted vermilion.

It is a vexed question whether she can ever be turned to account, or

whether she should not be towed outside the reef, and there sunk.[58]

Just beyond the shipping, inside the harbour, is a small island

fortified by the French. The incongruity of ramparts and guns is hidden

by foliage of hybiscus and palms; and it forms one item in the beauty of

the scene.

This is the view from the front of the Red House. The back windows look

over green mango-trees, and past the spire of the Roman Catholic church,

to the great purply mountains of the interior. So you see that, although

this big square three-storeyed house of very red brick, encased in

closed verandahs, is not in itself an ornamental building, its

surroundings are very lovely. And of the kindliness that reigns within

it, words fail me to tell. It is an atmosphere of genial cordiality, in

which each guest is at once made to feel as welcome, and as thoroughly

at home, as any member of the large family. It is a kindness as

unconscious, but as real and as delightful, as the balmy air we breathe,

and is as purely Tahitian. What would these warm-hearted open-handed

people think of the measured cold reception of strangers in our grey

British isles?

To begin with, I discovered, on arriving here, that Mrs Brander had

actually given me her own charming suite of rooms, to secure my having

the fullest enjoyment of the lovely view and of the cool verandahs; so

that I virtually am in solitary possession of this whole flat, with its

large handsome drawing-room and cosy boudoir. I compare myself to one of

the hermit-crabs which curl themselves into desirable shells, to the

exclusion of the rightful owners! But my most hospitable hostess will

not allow that she suffers any inconvenience; though she and her

children have moved downstairs to share one huge room with any number of

friends and relations, who spread their soft mattresses and pillows, and

very gay quilts, and make themselves cosy for the night, just as the

fancy takes them. The fine old mother has a house near, but very often

she and the pretty sisters prefer to sleep here: so do sundry cousins

and friends. There are also a number of Tahitian women of good birth who

find a home, almost by right, in the house of every high chief, and who

in return do him, or her, such light service as may be required. But of

actual servants, as we understand the word, there are none.

I find an element of great comfort in the presence of an English woman

who acts as housekeeper—a most unexpected discovery in Tahiti! She

brings my early breakfast of tea and fruit, and otherwise takes great

care of me.

We have a regular European breakfast and dinner, at which, however, only

my hostess and her big brothers, with the Belgian manager and a few

French officers, generally appear. The others prefer eating _à

l’indigène_, sitting on their mats in another room, or beneath the shady

trees; in fact, the native element is pretty strong, which gives this

house half its interest. All the connections of the royal family, and a

number of pretty _demi-blanche_ girls, dressed in flowing sacques, are

continually coming and going; and once a week Mrs Brander has a

reception for all the young folk, and for as many French officers as

like to come; and they all dance and make merry,—rather more so, I

think, than at the admiral’s Wednesday receptions at Government House,

which are, nevertheless, very enjoyable.

I had heard the praises of my hostess sung in no measured terms by all

the members of the mission, both French and English, as well as by our

consul and his family; but only since I have lived under her roof have I

realised what a very exceptional woman she is. To the affectionate

kindliness of a genuine Tahitian, she adds the Anglo-Jewish strength of

character and business capacity inherited from her father; and the

combination is one which would be truly remarkable in any woman, but is

doubly so in one of the gentle daughters of the South Seas. The born

chiefess is revealed in her large-hearted generosity to every creature

that comes within her reach; though her extreme unselfishness makes her

shrink from any expenditure that seems to tend only to her own comfort.

She appears to be always thinking what she can do for other people—rich

or poor, in all parts of the group. She has estates scattered all over

these isles, and conducts all their business herself, as well as

attending to everything connected with the great mercantile house

created by her late husband. Though she has many assistants, she is

emphatically its head, and not the smallest detail can be carried out

without her sanction. Every business transaction, whether with the

French Government, or foreign vessels requiring supplies, or her own

trading ships, passes through her hands. Everything is done by her

special order, and every business paper has to receive her signature.

But she never seems to forget anything or any one; and, moreover, has

time to prove herself a most devoted mother to her nine children—of whom

one is married in Valparaiso, another here, some of the sons are at

school in Scotland, and the baby daughters are the pets and darlings of

this house.

Mrs Brander owns a fleet of about twenty smart trading schooners, which

run backwards and forwards between Tahiti and such points as San

Francisco, Valparaiso, and New Zealand, carrying the cargoes of all

sorts collected by other vessels (of the same fleet) in the surrounding

isles and the neighbouring groups.

These cargoes consist chiefly of _coppra_—that is, dried cocoa-nut

kernel, broken into little bits for convenience of stowage on the far

journey to England or other lands, where it is subjected to such heavy

pressure as extracts the oil, leaving a residue of oil-cake for the

fattening of British beeves. For the _gourmet_ of China, quantities of

edible fungus and dried _bêche-de-mer_ are sent to San Francisco, whence

they are passed on to Hong-Kong. Tons of large pearl-shells, measuring

about eight inches across, with beautifully iridescent lining, go to

make buttons and such articles, in all parts of the world; true pearls

of considerable value are occasionally found in these, and a large

number of average size. Of the fruits of the isles, oranges form the

largest export, but vanilla, coffee, and various other products swell

the list. At one time cotton was a good article of export, but it

appears to have fallen into disfavour.

The vessels return from their several destinations laden with every

conceivable variety of goods. There is nothing that luxury can desire

which does not find its way to these remote isles, from the newest scent

to the finest dress materials—not even excepting silks and velvets,

though for whose benefit these are imported, passes my comprehension.

Truly wonderful is that compendium of all things needful, known as “a

store,” and that of _La Maison Brandère_ is the largest in Papeete. Like

“the merchant” of a Scotch village, magnified a thousandfold, the owner

of a South Sea store must be ready to supply all the most incongruous

demands which his customers can possibly invent, from white satin shoes

to ship anchors. For he has not only to provide for the island

population, but must be ready to supply any ships that happen to come

into harbour with whatever they require. Fresh meats and preserved

meats, New Zealand beef, Australian mutton, condensed milk and tinned

butter, Californian “canned” vegetables and fruits, candles and lamps,

oils of various kinds, firearms and gunpowder, hair-oil and brushes,

wines and spirits, letter-paper and ledgers, books and framed pictures,

cutlery of all sorts—from a penknife to a cutlass, or from a hair-pin to

a harpoon—wine-glasses and tumblers, necklaces and brooches, crockery

and physic: these, and a thousand other items, are all on hand, and

appear at a moment’s notice.

And as the store is the centre of all business, it is a general

rendezvous; in fact, a sort of club, where pleasant cooling drinks are

not unknown, and where much amusing gossip may be heard, for _that_ is

an article not unknown even in Tahiti!

Provisioning large vessels for long voyages is no easy matter here,

where all animals have to be imported, as these beautiful hills and

valleys afford very poor pasture-land, being all overrun with guava

scrub. So shiploads of cattle are despatched from the Sandwich Isles, at

very irregular intervals, by sailing ships, which sometimes are detained

so long by contrary winds and calms, that the poor beasts are almost

starved. The sheep are equally lean; and in fact, pork and fowls are

about the only satisfactory meat-supply.

_Thursday, 22d Nov._

It is hard to think of you all, enduring the miseries of chill November,

while we are revelling day after day, and night after night, in an

atmosphere of balmy delight and clear blue heavens. Last night we all

went to the admiral’s big reception, _au Gouvernement_, and a very gay

scene it was, so many pretty women in very fresh, simple muslin

sacques—only a few French ladies adhering to Parisian fashions. The

ball-room has an excellent inlaid floor; and as the music is most

enlivening, and the French naval officers enjoy dancing quite as much as

any of the girls, they kept it up with great spirit. Of course the

gardens are a very great attraction, and to the non-dancers are the

favourite lounge. Good music, pleasant company, warm delicious nights,

redolent of fragrant flowers—what more could you desire? Sometimes, when

the band stops playing, we go for a moonlight row in the harbour, as far

as the entrance through the barrier-reef, just for the pleasure of

watching the breakers, and hearing their deafening roar.

This morning, soon after sunrise, M. Viennot called for me in his

carriage, and drove me to Papawa, where he has built himself a tiny

house, near a lovely bathing-place. We found all the mission families

already assembled, with a few other friends, including M. Puèch,

commanding Le Limier, a French man-of-war. He at once set his sailors to

catch fish for our picnic; and after a preliminary luncheon, we all

scattered, to bathe, or stroll, as the case might be.

I went off with a party of half-a-dozen handsome girls, of English and

Tahitian birth, descendants of the early missionaries, whose children

settled in the group, and married half-whites. They led the way to a

delicious stream, narrow, and deep, and clear, and very still, edged

with tall bulrushes. They supplied me with a bathing-dress like their

own—namely, a _pareo_ of crimson, or scarlet and white calico, which

they wore very gracefully draped from the neck. They wove great wreaths

of green fern to protect their heads from the sun, and, of course, did

not neglect me in the distribution. I thought they formed a most

picturesque group.

The stream was so inviting that we determined to follow it up for some

distance. But the water, which at first only came to my shoulders, grew

deeper and deeper, till I could not feel the ground, and I had to

confess my inability to swim. So then these charming naiads clustered

round me, and floated me smoothly along, as they swam a good half-mile

to the upper stream. It was quite charming. Then they floated me back

again, and by the time we rejoined the rest of the party, the sailors

had caught a great supply of excellent little fish of many sorts, and we

had a most merry feast, after which Commandant Puèch brought me home in

his boat; and now I confess to being so tired, that I am going to bed,

notwithstanding the attraction of a pleasant moonlight expedition in the

admiral’s big barge.

_Friday, 23d._

The Seignelay returned to-day from the Marquesas and the Paumotu group.

She has had a most delightful fortnight’s cruise, and my kind friends on

board add to my poignant repentance for having refused to accompany

them, by their regrets that I should have missed so excellent an

opportunity. They had perfect weather. The voyage going and coming

occupied just a week, during which they passed through the Paumotus. The

other week was spent at different islands in the Marquesas, and they say

that much of the scenery is like the island of Moorea, but greatly

glorified. Now, as Moorea is the most unique and beautiful isle I have

ever seen, you can imagine how grievous it is to think I should so

stupidly have missed seeing one still more strange and lovely.

They also declare that the people are by far the finest race, and the

most uncivilised savages, they have ever seen anywhere. They declare

that many are still cannibal, and that all are tattooed all over the

face and body, while many of the men are clothed only in a kilt of human

hair. I think it possible that had they inspected this garment more

closely, they might have discovered it to be made of the Rhizomorpha

fibre—a glossy black parasitic weed, which is found in the forests,

clinging to old trees by means of tiny suckers. It resembles coarse

horse-hair, and in Fiji it is greatly valued as a kilt by warriors and

dancers. So perhaps in this respect the Marquesans may not differ from

our familiar Fijians. But there is no doubt that they are still in that

very early stage of civilisation, which is most interesting to the

traveller, before all distinctive angles have been rounded off—a process

which, when once commenced, progresses with startling rapidity, to the

total extinction of all individuality.

Here in Tahiti, for instance, scarcely a trace remains of the aboriginal

manners and customs, and it is impossible for the most vivid imagination

to conjure up any sort of suggestion of Captain Cook’s Otaheiti. Not a

trace of tattooing is now to be seen, though in olden days it was

practised by almost all Tahitians, both men and women, simply as a

personal adornment. Happily they seldom disfigured their faces, but the

women tattooed their feet, up to the ankles, and marked bracelets on

their arms and wrists. The men sometimes covered the whole body with

intricate patterns, often gracefully drawn, as when a cocoa-nut palm was

designed on the leg, or a bread-fruit tree, with twining vines, on the

chest. Fishes and birds, flowers and fruits, spears and clubs, were

favourite subjects; and sometimes a battle-piece, or the offering of

sacrifice at the _marae_, were thus indelibly marked. In the character

of subjects selected, the tattooing of Tahiti seems to have been nearer

akin to that of Japan than of any other nation, though in this respect,

as in all others, the Japanese lend to their work an artistic beauty of

their own.

In all other groups, the patterns selected were generally stars or

lines. By far the most elaborate designs are those of New Zealand and

the Marquesas; but the former invariably adhere to curved lines or

concentric circles, covering the whole face, while the latter make broad

straight lines all over the body, with occasional designs of animals.

The only Marquesan whom I have seen here is most elaborately tattooed

from head to foot, and I am told he is a fair type of his countrymen.

All the Maoris whom we saw in New Zealand were so fully clothed, that I

can only testify to the very finely marked intricate circles on the

faces of the men, and the hideous blue lips of the women. In Samoa the

men are so marked as apparently to be clothed in dark-blue-silk

knee-breeches. In Tonga only the men were tattooed, the women never

were. In Fiji, on the other hand, men were never tattooed; but, for

women, a certain small amount was a compulsory religious act.

In all these countries so many idolatrous ceremonies were connected with

the process, that it was invariably prohibited so soon as the people

professed Christianity. In Japan, where it has hitherto been so

practised as to be a really beautiful art, it has been declared illegal

by the same police regulations which, greatly to the discomfort of the

people, insist on every man being dressed from head to foot. But

throughout the Christianised isles, including Tahiti, the prohibition

was on the score of idolatry, and a law was passed, affixing a graduated

scale of penalty for repeated offences; a man was condemned to make so

many fathoms of road or of stone-work, and a woman to make so many mats,

or so many fathoms of native cloth, for the use of the king and of the

governor. Nevertheless, the desire to embellish nature was so great,

that many were content to work out the penalty rather than forego the

adornment.

There never was a better illustration of the old proverb, “Il faut

souffrir pour être belle;” for it was necessarily a painful process,

followed by swelling and inflammation, which often lasted for a

considerable time, and sometimes even proved fatal. The process was

simple: the victim of vanity was made to lie flat on the ground, while

the artist sketched his design with charcoal on the skin, which was then

punctured by little bundles of needles, made of the bones of birds or

fishes, though human bones were preferred. Some were so arranged as to

resemble the teeth of a saw, and were used in producing straight lines.

Others had but one fine point for giving delicate finishing touches, and

for working on such sensitive spots as could not endure the sharper

pain. The needles having previously been dipped in a black dye, made

from the kernel of the candle-nut, reduced to charcoal and mixed with

oil, were struck sharply with a small hammer, thus puncturing the skin,

carrying with them the dye, which, seen through the transparent and very

silky skin, had the effect of being blue.

The custom of tattooing was certainly widespread. Herodotus has recorded

its existence even among the Thracians, of whom he remarked that the

“barbarians could be exceedingly foppish after their fashion. The man

who was not tattooed amongst them was not respected.” If tattooing was

in fashion so near Phœnicia, who knows but that those roving traders may

have been the first to suggest to our fair-skinned forefathers the

attractions of blue woad as high art decoration?

Not only have such practices as tattooing died out in Tahiti, but even

the distinctive games of the people have apparently been forgotten,—at

least I have seen none played. Yet in olden times there were many

national sports; as, for instance, one which exactly answered to golf,

and was played with sticks, slightly curved at one end, and a hard ball

made of strips of native cloth. Football was formerly as popular in

Tahiti as in Britain or Japan, the ball used being a large roll of the

stalks of banana-leaves, firmly twisted together. The players were often

women, twenty or thirty on each side; and in the scramble to seize the

ball, there was as much rough sport as in any English public school. As

the games were generally played on the beach, the ball was often thrown

into the sea, and followed by the merry crowd with shouts and ringing

laughter.

Boxing also found favour with the lower orders; and wrestling and

archery were as highly esteemed in Tahiti as in Japan, and, moreover,

were equally associated with religious festivals, which probably is the

reason of their having fallen into disuse. The dresses worn by the

archers, with their bows and arrows, were all considered sacred, and

certain persons were appointed to keep them. Before the contest began,

the archers went to the _marae_ to perform certain religious ceremonies;

and at the end of the game, they returned thither to change their dress,

bathe, and restore their bow and arrows to their appointed keeper,

before they could venture to eat, or to enter their own homes. The bows

in use were about five feet in length; the arrows about three feet, and

the distance to which they would fly was often about 300 yards. They

were never used in war, nor for shooting at a mark, as in Fiji.

Spear-throwing and slinging stones were games in which a target was

always set up, and generally hit with precision; but these were

exercises of war, in which the players had abundant practice. The

slingers generally formed the advance-guard in battle, and often did

much execution. The stones selected were about the size of a hen’s egg.

The slings were made of finely braided cocoa-nut husk, or filaments of

native flax, with a loop at one end for the hand, and at the other a

place for the stone. In throwing, the sling was stretched across the

back, whirled round the head, and thus the missile was discharged with

great force.

But the game which always excited the keenest interest was wrestling.

Here, as in Japan, the announcement of a wrestling-match brought

together thousands both of men and women, all in their holiday garbs.

The wrestlers, like the archers, first repaired to the _marae_ to do

homage to the gods; then entering the ring, which was generally on some

grassy spot near the sea-shore, they fell to work in good earnest.

Sometimes the wrestlers of one island challenged those of another; or

else the challenge was from men of different districts. Their dress

consisted only of a waist-cloth, and a coating of fresh oil. The moment

a man was thrown, the friends of the conqueror commenced to dance and

sing triumphantly with an accompaniment of drums; and as the vanquished

party raised songs of defiance, the din must have been pretty

considerable. However, it subsided the moment fresh wrestlers entered

the ring, and the spectators watched the progress of the struggle in

dead silence and with intense interest. When the contest was over, the

wrestlers returned to the _marae_ to present their offerings to the

protecting gods.

Without looking back to classical times and Greek games, it seems

strange, does it not, that these very uncivilised savages of the South

Seas should have assigned to wrestling precisely the same religious

importance as is bestowed on it by the Shintoists of Japan. Possibly

both nations retained this sacred game as practised by their common

Malay ancestors,[59] from whom, probably, both derived their custom[60]

of offering savoury meats, and making acts of homage to their deceased

relations; though the Japanese, either from inborn refinement or Chinese

influence, place on their domestic shrine only the tablets of the dead;

whereas the Tahitian preserved the ancestral skulls hidden in the roof

of his house.

The perch for fowls,[61] so familiar in the neighbourhood of all Shinto

temples in Japan, had its counterpart in the homes of the Tahitian

chiefs; though the fowls here do not appear to have been consecrated to

the gods, but trained for fighting. The native legends assert that

cock-fighting was the most ancient native game, and the birds were

reared and tended with the utmost care. No artificial spurs were used,

and the belligerents were separated before either was injured. The

fights came off at break of day, that the birds might be perfectly cool;

and large crowds assembled to witness the contests, which sometimes were

carried on for several mornings consecutively.

In tracing all manner of kindred customs in the isles of the North and

South Pacific, I observe, amongst minor points, how very widespread is

the passion for shampooing,—a friendly office which every old woman in

the South Seas seems as ready to perform for the wearied wayfarer as is

the professional blind man of Japan; involving an amount of manipulation

which I should suppose to be truly odious, but to which many foreigners

take kindly, and which seems to find favour in all Asiatic countries.

I take an especial interest in all such links as seem to connect these

isles with Japan, because I have a pet theory of my own, that all these

fair Polynesian islanders have drifted here by a circuitous route _viâ_

the North Pacific. The commonly accepted notion is, that all the groups

in the East Pacific have been peopled by Malays, who found their way

here by a directly eastward migration. It is difficult, however, to

imagine why they should have come so far, when, in coming from that

direction, Australia and New Guinea lay so much nearer to them.

If you open the map of the world and rule a transverse line, passing

through the Sandwich Islands in the North Pacific and the Friendly Isles

in the South, you will perceive that the groups lying to the east are

the Navigators, Fiji, the Hervey Isles, Tahiti, the Paumotu, the

Marquesan, the Austral Isles, and New Zealand, every one of which is

peopled by comparatively fair-skinned races, with hair which by nature

is straight and black, although in many of the isles, as in Samoa,

custom requires that it should be dyed or bleached, cut short and

stiffened, so as to produce the effect of a wig. I am not sure if the

spiral curls of the yellow-haired Tongans and Fijians are artificially

produced, because I have never seen one individual of either race whose

hair had not been dyed with coral-lime; but I know that a Samoan girl

who refrains from “improving” nature, finds herself possessed of fine

black tresses, as silky and as beautiful as those of any Italian maiden.

To the west of our line lies Melanesia, comprising the Marshall Isles,

the Carolines, Solomon Isles, New Guinea, New Britain, New Hebrides, New

Caledonia, and Australia. These, almost without exception, are peopled

by dark-skinned races, repulsive in their ugliness, and with hair more

or less woolly.

All these lie between Eastern Polynesia and the Malay country, and there

seems no reason whatever to account for those hardy little warriors

passing by so many fertile isles, in search of the unknown region to the

east. Surely it is more probable that, having first overrun Formosa, and

then peopled Japan, they thence sailed to the Sandwich Isles, and so

gradually made their way to the south. We know that in old days their

vessels were very much better than those now commonly used by them; and

the voyage from Japan to Hawaii, and thence to Tahiti, would have been

by no means impossible, especially as the existing strong ocean-currents

would naturally tend to draw any ship by this course.

It is said that even a log of wood fairly launched on the Malay coast,

would naturally drift by this circuitous water-way till it returned

westward to the shores of New Guinea. A glance at a map of

ocean-currents will, I think, make this plain to you.

I know that this theory is contrary to that generally entertained; but

as the natives of Tahiti have always maintained that their ancestors

came from Hawaii (to which they retain the strongest links of family

affection, the principal families of the two groups being united to one

another by ties of blood), I cannot understand why learned men should

maintain that Hawaii must really mean Savaii in the Samoan group,

concerning which the Tahitians know little or nothing, except what they

have learned, by their visits to that group, in the character of native

missionaries.

There are many points which seem to me in favour of the circuitous route

_viâ_ Japan; such, for instance, as the gradual deterioration in the art

of tattooing, in which, beyond all question, Japan excels all other

nations, and which in the Marquesas, Tahiti, New Zealand, and, I think,

also in Hawaii, retained its graceful character, gradually falling off

as it travelled westward to Fiji and Tonga. Many other points of

similarity exist, such as the use of the honorific prefix O before

proper names, as in Japan, O-yama (Respected mountain), or in addressing

any person politely. Throughout Polynesia the same custom exists. Hence

early travellers wrote of Hawaii, Tahiti, Samoa, as O-whyhee, O-taheiti,

O-samoa; and the same with reference to names of persons.

Another point which to me appears to support the theory of the

circuitous movement is, that those best acquainted with Samoan matters

assert that, beyond any doubt, the Ellice group, lying far to the _west_

of Samoa, was peopled from thence. It is therefore only natural to infer

that the tall, comely race of light copper-coloured people who inhabit

the south-east coast of New Guinea (that is to say, due west from the

Ellice Isles), probably reached those shores about the same period, and

from the same direction. Their women are beautifully tattooed, and their

language wonderfully resembles that of the Rarotongan teachers, who have

come from the distant Hervey Isles to settle among them as pioneers,

sent by the native mission in that far easterly group; in fact, many of

their words are identical.

Again, it is a well-established fact that Fotuna and Aniwa, two of the

southern New Hebrides, which lie due west of the Friendly Isles, were

peopled by the descendants of a party of Tongans, who drifted thither in

a large canoe and settled on these uninhabited isles. These islanders

have retained their own language, and their children when born are very

fair, but as they grow up they become almost as dark in colour as their

Papuan neighbours. Their hair is of the Polynesian type, and some allow

it to grow long and smooth by not dyeing it with lime.

Yet another argument in favour of the migration having originally taken

a northward course, lies in the physical development of the race. Surely

it is easier to recognise a direct Malay ancestry for the warlike little

Japanese, with their reverence for the sacred swords of their demigods,

than for these stalwart Polynesians, with their firmly knit, muscular

limbs, and stately yet graceful bearing. The race increased in stature,

improved in feature, and enriched in colour on their southward

way—circumstances doubtless due to more easy and luxurious lives, with

better and more abundant food.

Beautiful as is the rich copper colour of these islanders, their own

ideal of beauty, as showing pure blood, consists in possessing a very

fair skin; and I have often been amused, when sketching, by their

anxiety to be represented several shades lighter than nature, not from

any wish to resemble foreigners, but evidently as embodying their

tradition of good ancestry. They by no means despise the use of

cosmetics to bring about so desirable a result: the Marquesan women, for

instance, though naturally of a light copper colour, contrive to make

their skin almost white by an application of the root of the papawa

tree.

That modifying circumstances may produce such changes, both in stature

and complexion, is now, I suppose, generally admitted; in fact it is

almost certain that in some cases where barren atolls (such as the

Kingsmill or Gilbert group, on the equator) have from accidental

circumstances been peopled by descendants of these splendid men they

have degenerated beyond recognition, and are now a short, spare, and

generally ugly race. Naturally, the change from unbounded supplies of

nutritious vegetable diet—bread-fruit, bananas, cocoa-nut, yams, sugar,

and all the luxuries of the tropics—to isles where a coarse meal,

prepared from the woody fruit of the pandanus, is the only edible form

of vegetable, has in due time produced this result. Therefore it seems

perfectly reasonable to infer that the converse occurred when an

under-fed aggressive race, engaged from their cradles in piracy and

strife, found themselves at rest in these Capuan isles, and there

yielded to the habits of indolent ease, which they so naturally

engender.

Yet to this day the chief characteristics of the Malays are common

throughout Polynesia. In each of these groups a truly Asiatic code of

wearisome, elaborate ceremonial is observed on every possible occasion;

the smallest breach of etiquette is considered a crime; a joke of any

sort, especially of the nature of “chaff,” is an unpardonable offence;

in speech, flowery compliments which mean nothing and veil thought are

the rule—slow, deliberate oratory, in which the best speaker is he who

can talk for hours without touching his point, and then condense all he

wishes to say, in a few pithy words.

All these islanders are distinguished by a natural grace and courtesy of

manner—sometimes dignified, at others most winning; yet under extreme

external politeness they have often nursed schemes of cold treachery and

cruelty, which they have carried out unscrupulously to the bitter end.

(I speak, of course, of the islanders as they were by nature, ere the

mellowing, transforming influence of Christianity had dawned on the

South Seas.) But to this hour the Polynesians, like the Malays, are, as

a rule, careless, easy-going, impassive beings, generally light-hearted;

all fatalists, as a matter of course; strangely indifferent to physical

pain, whether endured by themselves or inflicted on others; but when

once roused to fighting-pitch, wholly uncontrollable in their blind mad

fury.

But the strongest proof of their Malay descent lies in the similarity of

their various languages, both to one another and to the mother tongue.

It is not merely a likeness in general construction, but many words are

almost identical, as you may gather at a glance from the following

vocabulary. In short, the whole subject is extremely interesting, but is

one which I must leave to the discussion of learned folk, whose wise

disquisitions you can study at your leisure.

┌──────────┬─────────┬──────────┬─────────┬──────────┬──────────┐

│_English._│_Malay._ │_Niua and │ _New │_Rotumah._│ _Fiji._ │

│ │ │Vaté, New │Zealand._│ │ │

│ │ │Hebrides._│ │ │ │

├──────────┼─────────┼──────────┼─────────┼──────────┼──────────┤

│Heavens │Langit │Rang │Rangi │Lang │Langi │

│Rain │Ujan │Ua │Ua │Uas │Utha │

│Fire │Api │Afi │Kapura │Reh │Bukawanga │

│Head │Ulu │Uru │Matenga │Filou │Ndluna │

│Eye │Mata │Mata │Kanohi │Math │Mata │

│Ear │Telinga │Teringa │Taringa │Falinga │Ndalingana│

│Teeth │Nihi │Nifo │Niho │Al │Batina │

│Arm │Lima │Lima │Ringa │Siu │Lingana │

│Die │Mati │Mate │Mate │Akia │Mate │

│Come │Omai │Fano mai │Haere mai│Leum │Lako mai │

│Stone │Batu │Fatu │Maka │Hoth │Vatu │

│Water │Vai │Vai │Wai │Voi │Wai │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│Cocoa-nut │Nyu │Ono │... │Niu │Niu │

│Fish │Ikan │Ika │Ika │I’e │Ika │

│House │Bali │Fare │Whare │Ri │Vale │

│Woman │Perampuan│Fafine │Whahine │Hoien │Alewa │

│Man │Orang │Tangata │Tangata │Tha │Tamata │

│Drink │Minum │Inumia │Inu │Iom │Ngunu │

│Canoe │Sampan │Vaka │Waka │Tafang │Wanka │

└──────────┴─────────┴──────────┴─────────┴──────────┴──────────┘

┌──────────┬────────┬────────┬────────────┬────────────┬─────────┬─────────┐

│_English._│_Tonga._│_Samoa._│_Raratonga._│_Marquesas._│_Tahiti._│_Hawaii._│

│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │

├──────────┼────────┼────────┼────────────┼────────────┼─────────┼─────────┤

│Heavens │Langi │Langi │Langi │Ani │Ra’i │Lani │

│Rain │Uha │Ua │Ua │Ua │Ua │Ua │

│Fire │Afi │Afi │A’i │Ahi │Auahi │Ahi │

│Head │Ulu │Ulu │Mimiti │Upoko │Upoo │Po’o │

│Eye │Mata │Mata │Mata │Mata │Mata │Maka │

│Ear │Telinga │Taringa │Taringa │Buaina │Tari’a │Pepei ao │

│Teeth │Nifo │Nifo │Ni’o │Niho │Niho │Niho │

│Arm │Nima │Lima │Lima │Iima │Rima │Lima │

│Die │Mate │Oti │Mate │Mate │Pohe │Make │

│Come │Hau │Omai │Tae │Amai │Haere mai│Hele mai │

│Stone │Maka │Ma’a │Toka │Kea │O fa’i │Pohaku │

│Water │Vai │Vai │Vai │Vai │Vai or │Uai │

│ │ │ │ │ │ Pape │ │

│Cocoa-nut │Niu │Niu │Niu │Eehi │Haari │Niu │

│Fish │Ika │I’a │Ika │Ika │I’a │Lawaia │

│House │Fale │Fale │Are │Fae │Fare │Hale │

│Woman │Fefine │Fafine │Vaine │Vahine │Vahine │Wahine │

│Man │Tangata │Tangata │Tangata │Euata │Tane │Kanaka │

│Drink │Inu │Inu │Inu │Inu │Inu │Inu │

│Canoe │Vaka │Va’a │Vaka │Vaka │Va’a │Kau │

└──────────┴────────┴────────┴────────────┴────────────┴─────────┴─────────┘

HERE ARE THE NUMERALS.

┌──────────┬────────┬────────┬───────┬────────────┬────────────┬─────────┬─────────┐

│_English._│_Malay._│_Samoa._│_Fiji._│_Rarotonga._│_Marquesas._│_Tahiti._│_Hawaii._│

├──────────┼────────┼────────┼───────┼────────────┼────────────┼─────────┼─────────┤

│One │Satu │Tasi │Dua │Ta’i │Tahi │Tahi │Kahi │

│Two │Dua or │Lua │Rua │Rua │Ua │Rua │Alua │

│ │ Lua │ │ │ │ │ │ │

│Three │Talu │Tolu │Tola │Toru │Tou │Toru │Akolo │

│Four │Ha │Fa │Va │A │Fa │Ha │Aha │

│Five │Lima │Lima │Lima │Rima │Ima │Rima │Alima │

│Six │Onoma │Ono │Ono │Ono │Ono │Ono │Eono │

│Seven │Pitu │Fitu │Vita │Itu │Fitu │Hitu │Ahiku │

│Eight │Walu │Valu │Ualo │Valu │Vau │Varu │Auala │

│Nine │Siwa │Iva │Thewa │Iua │Iva │Iva │Aiwa │

│Ten │Sapuloh │Sefulu │Tine │Ngaulu │Onohn’u │Ahuru │Umi │

│Eleven │Sepuloh │Sefulu │Tine ka│ │ │Ta’au │ │

│ │ dua │ Lua │ kua │ │ │ │ │

│Twenty │Ruapuloh│Lua Fulu│Rua │Elua ngaulu │Eua onohu’u │ │Iwakalua │

│ │ │ │ sang │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ a │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ vula │ │ │ │ │

└──────────┴────────┴────────┴───────┴────────────┴────────────┴─────────┴─────────┘

A lady's cruise in a French man-of-war · 第 18 / 25 章