as European influence and example have here largely effaced the
simplicity and charms of native life. The rural districts are the places
for the tourist to get glimpses of real native life. He will find there
the best specimens of natives, and an opportunity to study their
primitive methods of living. There is no other island of similar size
where the traveler will find it so easy to visit all of the rural
districts and villages. By following the ninety-mile drive, he can
encircle the entire island in a comfortable carriage, and finish the
trip in four days, if his time is limited, and in doing so he sees the
inhabited part of the island and nearly all of the villages. He will see
on this trip Paea Grotto and cave, also picnic-grounds, eighteen miles
from Papeete, Papara, six miles further, is noted for native singing,
chanting and dancing. The real Tahitian life is met at Pari and Tautira.
On the other side of the island, the road skirts along the coast and
ascends five hundred feet above the level of the sea. The drive is a
charming one, as the traveler never loses the sight of mountains and
hills, and only very seldom, and at long intervals, of the blue Pacific
Ocean. In some places the road-bed is cut through solid rock, and for a
few moments the panoramic view of the magnificent scenery is shut out
from sight, but on the other side of the cut a picture more beautiful
than ever is unrolled. The ocean claims the first attention as it smiles
in the dazzling sunshine beneath where
The murmuring surge,
That on th' unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes.
Can not be heard so high.
SHAKESPEARE.
In the distance we can see the foam-crested waves dash over the coral
reef in their attempts to reach the placid waters of the peaceful
lagoon, where the wavelets play with the pebbles on the shore. Looking
toward the left, we again are face to face with the mountains, that are
our constant companions, on the entire route. There is a feeling of
solemnity which takes possession of the soul when communing with Nature
in her grandest mood, and we begin to feel that
I live not myself, but I become
Portion of that around me; and to me
High mountains are a feeling; but the hum
Of human cities, torture.
BYRON.
We see the naked mountain-peaks and the bare backs of the foot-hills.
Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun.
BRYANT.
We pass through magnificent groves of cocoa-palms, and now the road
leads through a primeval forest with an impenetrable jungle on its
floor, where
The winds within the quiv'ring branches play'd,
And dancing trees a mournful music made.
DRYDEN.
We pass through or near the quaint native villages peopled with naked
children, scantily dressed women, and men whose only garment consists of
a much-checkered, many-colored calico loin-cloth. We cross rivers,
brooks and rivulets without number, and looking for their source we see
glimpses, here and there, of cascades and cataracts, high up on the
mountainside, in the form of streaks of silver in the clefts of the deep
green ocean of trees. We see butterflies by the hundreds, of all colors,
playing in the sunshine or eagerly devouring the nectar of the sweetest
flowers. We admire the richness and variety of the floral kingdom, and
inhale the perfume of the fragrant flowers, suspended in the pure air
and wafted to us by the cool land breeze sent down from the top of the
mountains. As the sun approaches the horizon, and the short, bewitching
twilight sets in, with the gorgeous display of colors in the sky and the
wonderful effects of light and shadow on sea and shore, we can realize
that
Softly the evening came. The sun from the western horizon
Like a magician extended his golden wand o'er the landscape;
Twinkling vapors arose; and sky, and water, and forest.
Seemed all on fire at the touch, and melted and mingled together.
LONGFELLOW.
The vistas and views along this circular drive are infinite; the
surprises at every turn without number. No matter how much the visitor
may have traveled, even if he has seen the whole world outside of this
blessed island, he will see here many things he has never seen before.
Every step brings new revelations of the beauty and goodness of Nature
and her tender care for man. What a paradise for lovers of nature, for
poets and artists! Here is a place above all others in the world, where
No tears
Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.
LONGFELLOW.
The further the visitor wends his way from Papeete, the more he will
find the natives in their natural state, and the less contaminated by
European influence. On the opposite side of the island, at Pari, the
people have preserved their native customs, and live now about in the
same manner as when Wallis discovered the island. Religion and
civilization have liberated them from ancient barbarities, but have had
little influence in changing their customs, for
Custom has an ascendency over the understanding.
DR. I. WATTS.
All of the villages scattered at short intervals along the ninety-mile
drive are small; the largest with not more than five hundred
inhabitants. In Papeete, and between it and Papara, the natives live in
small frame houses, built on piling several feet above the ground,
covered with a roof of corrugated iron, and made more spacious and
comfortable by a veranda facing the road. Few native houses are
encountered on this part of the journey. Beyond Papara they are the
rule, and these retain their primitive charm. They are built of upright
sticks of bamboo, lashed side by side to a frame of stripped poles in
the form of an oval. Upon this is a heavy roof of pandanus thatch
covering a cool, well-ventilated, sanitary home. The air circulates
freely through the open spaces between the poles, as well as between the
two doorways on opposite sides of the house. Mats take the place of a
floor.
Cooking is done outside without the use of a stove. The native oven is a
very simple affair, as it consists of a layer of stones upon which a
fire is built. When heated to the requisite degree—and this is a matter
the experienced housewife must determine—the food is placed amid the
embers, wrapped in pieces of banana leaves and covered over with piles
of damp breadfruit leaves. Breadfruit, taro, green bananas and
plantains, are the articles of food prepared in this way. The roasting
of a pig, the favorite meat of the South Sea Islanders, is a more
complicated process, and to do it well requires much experience. A hole
is dug in the ground and paved with stones, upon which a fire is built.
When the stones are thoroughly heated and the fire exhausted or
extinguished, the whole animal, properly prepared and wrapped in leaves,
is placed in the pit, covered with damp leaves and loose earth. On great
festive occasions, fowl and fish are added to the contents of the pit.
The pork, fowl and fish cooked in this manner are delicious, and the
slightly smoky taste only adds to their savoriness. It is the pride of
the cook to remove the roasted pig without mutilation, usually a very
delicate task. Chicken, boiled in the milk of the cocoanut, is another
masterpiece of native cookery. The cocoanut is prepared in many ways for
the table and a sauce made of the compressed juice of the grated nut,
mixed with lime juice and sea-water, makes a most palatable sauce for
meats and fish.
House-building and housekeeping are free from care and never ruffle the
family peace. If a young couple desire to establish a home of their own,
they signify their intentions to their friends and neighbors. These
gather, usually Sunday afternoon at two o'clock, at the place selected
for the new home, bring bamboo sticks, poles and pandanus leaves, and at
sundown the house is ready for occupation. The pandanus roof does
efficient service for about seven years, when it has to be removed and
replaced by a new one. The bamboo framework, properly protected, lasts
for a much longer time. As the whole house consists of a single oval
room, is floorless and not encumbered by furniture of any kind, the
house-wife has an easy existence, more especially as the children can
not outwear their clothing, and their husband's loin-cloths need no
repairs.
While meat in Tahiti is scarce, every family has an easy access to a
rich fish-supply. The fish which swarm in the lagoons and outside of the
reefs furnish an easily secured food-supply. They are caught in
different ways—by hook or netting—and not the least picturesque way is
the torchlight fishing on the lagoon. Torches are improvised of long
cocoa-palm leaves tied into rolls. With a boat-load of these, together
with nets and spears, the fishermen in their canoes paddle out upon the
water after dark. Flying fish, attracted by the light, shoot overhead
and are dexterously caught in a hand-net. Other kinds of fish, by aid of
the light, are speared over the side of the canoe. _Dolphin_ and bonita,
the latter a favorite fish, are taken with the hook and line, in larger
canoes sailing on the open sea, but this kind of fishing is left to a
few hardy men. The women scoop up small river-fish in baskets, and
drag-nets are used in capturing the many varieties of small fish of the
lagoon. While the fish are being cooked in the underground oven, some
member of the family goes into the adjacent forest and in a short time
returns with breadfruit, and a variety of fruits, to make up a dainty
and substantial repast.
The island is divided into seventeen districts and each district has its
own chief, who is entrusted with the local government. The chiefs are
elected by popular vote every few years, the office being no longer
hereditary. The chief resides in the principal village of his district
and here is to be invariably found a government school, a Protestant and
a Catholic church with its respective parochial school, and a
meeting-house which serves as a gathering-place for the annual native
plays and on all occasions of public concern. A daily mail supplies the
rural population with the news of the island and keeps them in touch
with the outside world. Abject poverty in the city and country is
unknown, and begging is looked upon as a disgrace. There is neither
wealth nor poverty in Tahiti. The people have all they need and all they
desire, and
Poor and content is rich, and rich enough.
SHAKESPEARE.
I am quite sure that the tourist who has tasted freely of modern life
such as it now is in our large cities, with all its cares and
temptations, all its unrealness and disappointments, when he has seen
the happy, contented, free-from-care Tahitians, in their charming island
and simple homes, will be willing to confess:
For my part, I should prefer to be always poor, in blessings such as
these.
HORATIUS.
and
Everything that exceeds the bounds of moderation has an unstable
foundation.
SENECA.
POINT VENUS
Every visitor to Tahiti should visit Point Venus, as it is a historic
place near where the Europeans made their first landings in Matavai Bay,
and where the first white settlers cast their lot with the natives. It
is in this neighborhood where the English missionaries established their
permanent home and from here spread the new tidings of the gospel over
the entire island. They labored in vain for nearly twenty years, when
all at once a religious wave swept over the island which resulted in the
speedy Christianization of almost the entire population. I have already
referred to Point Venus as the place where the government lighthouse is
located and where Captain Cook had his headquarters when he and the
scientists who accompanied him observed the transit of Venus by order of
the English government in the year 1769. The place where the scientific
observations were made is marked by a modest monument of stone
surrounded by an iron railing, on which are inscribed the data
commemorative of the work accomplished. Close by this monument, on the
most prominent point, has been erected the lighthouse which guides the
mariner in approaching the island during the night. The distance from
Papeete to Point Venus is seven miles, over a macadamized road which we
found in a somewhat neglected condition. Two native villages, Pirae and
Arue, are passed on the way, and a third, Haapape, is close by. The road
leads through groves of cocoa-palms, primeval forests and jungles, and a
part of it skirts the foot-hills of the towering mountains. Most of the
time the beautiful lagoon, dotted here and there with fishermen's
canoes, is in sight. The calmness of the air, the solemnity of the
surroundings and the sight of these canoes on the unruffled lagoon,
reminded us of
Low stir of leaves and dip of oars
And lapsing waves on quiet shores.
WHITTIER.
Some of the more daring fishermen we saw outside of the reef, in the
same frail crafts, battling with a rougher sea, but the skilled use of
their very primitive paddles kept the canoes in good motion and steady,
and it seemed
She walks the waters like a thing of life,
And seems to dare the elements to strife,
BYRON.
Matavai Bay, which the road follows for a considerable distance, is a
beautiful sheet of water. It was in this bay that the ships of the early
voyagers found a resting-place, and where on its shore the first white
men touched the soil of Tahiti and came face to face with a people who
had never heard of a world outside of the islands of the Pacific. The
scenery all along this drive is truly tropical. The floral wealth is
great and its variety endless. It was on this drive I found the
passion-flower in full bloom and exquisite beauty.
Near Point Venus we met a gang of natives, in charge of the chief of the
district, engaged in repairing the road. All except the chief were in
loin-cloths as their only article of dress. They worked leisurely, and
smoked and chatted in a way that showed that they were happy even when
bearing the burden of the day and the scorching rays of the tropic sun,
with nothing in view for their ten-o'clock breakfast but the cool
mountain water instead of coffee, breadfruit or plantain (_fei_) for
bread, and some fruit gathered in the woods on their way to work.
The round trip from Papeete to Point Venus can be made in three hours,
and gives one a very excellent idea of the general topography of the
island and is replete with both pleasure and profit.
FAUTAHUA VALLEY
The next interesting short drive from Papeete is to the Fautahua Valley,
distance four miles. It is noted for delightful river scenery and tropic
vegetation, and at the end of the valley is a beautiful waterfall. This
charming valley, with its typical tropic scenery enclosed by towering
mountains and resounding with the rippling, dashing music of a turbulent
mountain stream and the babbling and murmuring of the many brooks and
rivulets of pure crystal water which feed it, is well worth a visit.
This valley was once densely populated, if we can judge from the
abundance of imported fruit trees and the coffee shrub which now
flourish in the forest unaided by the care of man, while, at the present
time, the native huts are few and far apart. Wild arrowroot grows here
in profusion, and a variety of exogenous shade trees have become an
important component part of the primeval forest, rendered almost
impenetrable by vines and a dense undergrowth. A carriage-road extends
to Fashoda Bridge, well up in the mountains, beyond which it leads up
the gorge, past a waterfall which leaps over a rocky rim, where the
mountains join to the bed of the stream, six hundred feet below. In
different places the romantic mountain road is spanned by graceful
arches of branches of the pauru tree, ambitious to find on the opposite
side of the road an independent existence from the parent tree. One of
the large, quiet pools below the Fashoda Bridge, a favorite
bathing-place for women and their daughters, has been made famous by the
writings of Pierre Loti, a French author.
From Fashoda Bridge a bridle path leads up a very steep incline to the
French military post in the very heart of the mountains, six thousand
feet above the level of the sea. It was here that the natives made their
last stand in their war with France. A little beyond the fort rise the
crags which compose "the Diadem," a conspicuous landmark in the
mountains of Tahiti.
The view from Fashoda Bridge in all directions is inspiring: at the end
of the gorge the waterfall dashing over the volcanic rock, pulverized at
many points in its descent into silvery spray; the tree-clad mountains
on each side with their steeples of bare rock; beneath, the wild
mountain stream, speeding to find rest in the quiet basin below; and all
around, the rank vegetation which only the tropics under the most
favorable conditions can grow, and above, the clear blue sky,
brilliantly illuminated by the morning sun. As late as nine o'clock in
the forenoon we found everything bathed in a heavy dew, which added much
to the beauty and freshness of the incomparable scenery.
Near the bridge, leading a pack-mule, we met a soldier on his way to the
city for supplies for the small garrison in charge of the fort. Military
duty at this lone isolated station must certainly prove monotonous, as
from the bridge the only way to reach the fort is either on foot or
mule-back. The quietude of this peaceful valley, at the time of our
visit, was disturbed by a large force of native laborers who were laying
the pipes for the new city waterworks.
VILLAGE OF PAPARA
The village of Papara, the largest in the island, has been the
acknowledged stronghold of the Tevas for centuries. Here the powerful
chiefs of the clan have ruled their subjects with an inborn sense of
justice until their jurisdiction and, power were curtailed by foreign
intervention. For a long time the ruling house of the Tevas dominated
the social and political life of the island. It was at Papara that the
largest and most imposing marae was built, consisting of a huge pile of
stones in the form of a truncated cone, the ruins of which still remain
as a silent reminder of the political power of the Tevas lone before the
white man cast his greedy eyes upon this island paradise.
The district of Papara, of which the village of about five hundred
inhabitants is the seat of the local government, is the most fertile and
prosperous of all the seventeen districts into which the island is at
present divided. Tati Salmon, son of Ariitaimai, the famed chiefess and
historian of the island, is the present chief. He was educated in
London, is highly respected by the foreigners and natives alike, and
owns about one-third of the island. He lives in a charming old-fashioned
house, the original part of which was built more than a century ago. The
house is situated at the mouth of a large mountain stream, and faces the
broad lagoon hemmed in by a coral reef, over which the surf dashes from
day to day and from year to year with the same regularity, with the same
splashing and moaning sounds of the waves as they leap from the restless
ocean beyond into the peaceful bosom of the calm lagoon.
Papara, like all of the native villages, is located on the circular road
familiarly known as the ninety-mile drive. The road from Papeete to
Papara, a distance of twenty miles, leads through the most picturesque
and interesting part of the island. The road is a genuine chaussee,
constructed at great expense by the French government, and is kept in
excellent repair. For the most part it follows the coast in full view of
the lagoon and the ocean beyond, and, for more than one-half of the
distance, the smaller volcanic sister island, Moorea, is in sight. The
mountains are constantly in sight, ceaselessly changing in their aspects
with distance and change of perspective. The narrow strip of coast-land
is covered with a thick layer of the most productive soil upon a
foundation of rock and red volcanic earth. Vegetation everywhere is
rampant and extends from the very edge of the lagoon to the naked
pinnacles of the mountains. In many places the road skirts the
foot-hills, and at different points the precipitous mountains rise from
the bed of the lagoon, where the road-bed had to be made by blasting
away a part of their firm foundation of volcanic stone.
The traveler on the whole trip is never without the companionship of the
branchless, slender, graceful cocoa-palms, with their terminal crown of
giant leaves, clusters of blossoms, and nuts of all sizes and stages of
maturity. A stately forest of cocoa-palms like those found on the coast
of Tahiti is a sight that can not fail to interest and fascinate the
Northerner fresh from zero weather, snow and ice. The straight, columnar
trunks, with their sail-like terminal fronds and clusters of fruit in
all stages of development from the blossom to the golden yellow of the
ripe nut, are objects of study and admiration which create in the
visitor a strong and lasting attachment for the tropics. There is no
other spot on the globe where the tourist can see larger and more
beautiful palm forests than on the circular road between Papeete and
Papara. The cocoa-palm is queen here, as there is no other tree among
its many neighbors that has succeeded in equaling it in height. The
lofty, proud head of the palm has no competitor; it is alone in that
stratum of air and looks down upon the plebeian trees beneath with a
sense of superiority, if not of scorn. For miles this road passes
through magnificent forests of cocoa-palms, with a heavy undergrowth of
guava, extending from the shore high up the foot-hills and
mountainsides. The cocoa-palm is fond of salt water and thrives best
when its innumerable slender, long roots can imbibe it from the briny
shore.
The pandanus tree is even more partial to a soil impregnated with salt
water. On this drive this tree is frequently seen, and in preference at
the very brink of the coast, with the butt-end of the trunk high in the
air, resting on a colonnade of numerous powerful, slightly diverging
roots. Another tree omnipresent on this drive is the pauru tree, with
its large leaves and charming cream-yellow, salver-shaped flowers. This
tree loves the dark, shady jungles, where its tortuous branches mingle
freely with the dense undergrowth and climbing plants.
The views that present themselves on this drive at every turn are simply
bewitching and vary with every curve of the road. The gentle ocean
breeze that fans the flushed face of the raptured traveler is lost when
the road leaves the coast and plunges into a primeval forest, when
Gradual sinks the breeze
Into a perfect calm; that not a breath
Is heard to quiver through the closing wood.
THOMSON.
As the carriage emerges from the dark shades of the forest into the
dazzling sunlight in full view of the near-by ocean again.
The winds, with wonder whist,
Smoothly the waters kiss'd,
Whispering new joys to the mild ocean.
MILTON.
Every turn of the wheel on this winding road brings new delights. The
views of mountains and ocean, the strange trees and flowers, the
childlike natives and their dusky, naked children, the quaint villages,
the turbulent mountain streams and the diminutive cataracts and
waterfalls, framed in emerald green on the mountain-sides, enchant the
eye and stimulate the mind every moment. These little waterfalls have
excavated the hardest rocks and have chiseled out, in the course of
centuries, crevices and caves of the strangest designs.
The floral wealth of Tahiti is immense. Mr. McDaniel, of Los Angeles,
Cal., during a several-months' visit to the island, analyzed and
classified two thousand different kinds of plants. Some of the flowers
are gorgeous, others yield a sweet perfume which is diffused through the
pure air, imparting to it the balmy character for which it has become
famous. An acquaintance with these flowers suggests:
Were I, O God, in churchless lands remaining,
Far from all voice of teachers or divines,
My soul would find, in flowers of thy ordaining,
Priests, sermons, shrines.
SHAKESPEARE.
At a sudden turn of the road a vista is disclosed that defies
description. In the open roadway, brilliantly illuminated by the noonday
sun, in the distance, a flame-tree, with its flowers of fire, dazzles
the eyes, and its grandeur and beauty increase as we approach it, while,
in a few moments, what appeared as an apparition is behind us, and the
tension of vision is relieved by a long, restful look over the limitless
expanse of the blue sea. I have seen the flame-tree in different
countries, but the sight of this one, with its magic surroundings, made
a picture of exquisite beauty which forcibly recalled the lines:
The spreading branches made a goodly show,
And full of opening blooms was ev'ry bough.
DRYDEN.