for the stranger, unfamiliar with this inhabitant of the coast in the
tropics. The land-crabs have evidently a well-organized government in
each community. Among the most important officials are the sentinels,
who are always on duty, when the inhabitants of the village have left
their underground habitations, to give timely notice of impending
danger. With the approach of man, the whole colony is on the alert. As a
matter of safety, the land-crab does not stray far away from its
subterranean home. When these animals are out in the open they are never
caught napping. Their large, exophthalmic eyes are never idle, and the
instant danger threatens they speed to their place of safety. If you
have enough patience to wait, you will find, sooner or later, two large
staring eyes on a level with the hole where the animal disappeared. The
land-crab is cautious, constantly on the lookout, and, on the first
signal of danger, makes a rush for his or somebody else's hole.
A short distance from Papeete is a truck garden managed by Chinamen.
This enterprise, the only one I noticed on the drive, demonstrates well
what the soil of Tahiti is capable of producing in the way of growing
vegetables. It is an ideal vegetable garden, weedless, and verdant with
all kinds of vegetables. The foreign population of the city is supplied
from here with lettuce, asparagus, cabbage, sweet potatoes, carrots,
onions, turnips and melons of the choicest quality. The natives have no
use for vegetables and make no attempts to raise them for the market.
The guava shrub is found everywhere. It has infested the country,
weed-like, and its golden fruit is not appreciated by the natives; only
a very small part of the fruit is gathered for making jelly, one of the
few articles of export.
This is the part of the island where the vanilla-bean is most
extensively cultivated. A vanilla plantation is a jungle in which the
bean thrives best. In the thick woods all along the road, the climbing
bean is seen trailing up the shrubs and trees, often to a height of
twenty feet. At the time of my visit the blossoms had disappeared and
the green beans had reached a length of about four inches, half their
length when they are ripe. A patient and prolonged search made for a
flower was finally rewarded by the finding of a belated bud which, on
being placed in water, expanded into a flower during the night,
affording me an opportunity to study its anatomy.
Three small villages, Faaa, Punaauia and Paea, are passed on the way
from Papeete to Papara, and, like all other villages, each of them had
its own government school, a Catholic and a Protestant church, and,
connected with these, two parochial schools. The compulsory education
introduced into the island applies to children from six to sixteen years
of age. The churches are well attended, but I was informed by a German,
who has resided in Tahiti for thirty years, that the people attend
service more as a matter of amusement than with any intention of
obtaining spiritual benefit.
Nearly all of the village shops are kept by Chinamen, and it is needless
to say that these shrewd foreigners take undue advantage of the simple,
trusting natives, in all of their business transactions. Much of the
hard-earned money of the natives finds its way into the capacious
pockets of these enterprising Orientals.
We reached Papara toward evening, and, when we came in sight of the
chiefery, were deeply impressed with the beauty of the location. Palm
trees, flowering shrubs and garden flowers adorn the spacious grounds in
front and all around the ancient mansion which is perched on an elevated
plateau adjoining the large and beautiful stream of crystal mountain
water, and facing the placid lagoon. An immense double war-canoe was at
anchor in the river. It is now used as a fishing-boat by one of the sons
of the chief, when he desires to catch the bonita outside of the lagoon.
It takes seven men to manage this giant canoe, by means of paddles.
In front of the wide veranda of the one-story house is an ornamental
tree which spreads its branches at least twenty feet in all directions.
As it was in full bloom at the time of my visit, it added much to the
beauty and comfort of the immediate surroundings in front of the house.
The rooms of the mansion are large, and brimful of local antiquities and
old furniture imported from Europe, which impart to them a coziness and
charm which have been greatly appreciated and gratefully remembered by
many a welcome visitor. It is in a house like this, presided over by the
chief of Papara and his charming family, that one can experience what
genuine, unselfish hospitality means.
Twelve servants, men and women, take care of the house, the family and
the visitors. Most of these were born on the place, and some of them,
very old now, were in the service of the grandfather of the present
chief. The relation between master and servants in this house is a very
pleasant one. The servants are looked upon and treated rather as
relatives than employes. Their pay is small, but they are given all the
comforts of a home.
Word had been sent ahead from Papeete announcing our visit, for the
purpose of securing for us the rare pleasure of partaking of a genuine
native dinner. A little pig was roasted underground, and chickens were
boiled in the milk of the cocoanut, exquisite dishes, which, with
excellent coffee, French bread, and a variety of luscious tropical
fruit, made up a dinner which it would be impossible to duplicate in any
of the large cities of the continents.
The village of Papara is a most interesting place to visit. Besides the
magnificent scenery, one finds here many native huts, and the town hall
is a large, airy structure, built of bamboo sticks and covered with a
thatched roof. Near the village are the grotto and cave, which enjoy a
local reputation, and are well worth seeing by the visitor.
The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out:
At one stride conies the dark;
With far-heard whisper o'er the sea;
Off shot the spectre bark.
COLERIDGE.
The day had been hot and sultry. From a cloudless sky, the tropical sun
shot down, without mercy, his arrows of heat, against which the lightest
and most porous headdress, umbrella, roof and shade afforded but
inadequate protection. Man and beast were listless, perspiring, careful
to make no unnecessary exertion. The green, succulent foliage bowed
under the oppressive heat, and even the gayest of the flowers drooped
their proud heads in homage to the fierce king of the serene blue sky.
The very atmosphere quivered in convulsive movements, and the intense
light, reflected from the surface of the sleeping ocean and the white
city, dazzled and blinded those who ventured to go out into the streets.
The little capital city of Papeete, nestled on the plateau between the
harbor and the foot of towering mountains, half hidden among the tropic
trees, was at rest; market and streets deserted, business houses closed,
and the wharf silent and lifeless. The numerous miserable curs in the
streets sought shelter in the shade, lying in a position affording most
perfect relaxation, with protruded, blue, saliva-covered tongues,
fighting the heat by increasing the respiratory movements to the utmost
speed. The numerous half-wild pigs in the streets, with paralyzed tails
and relaxed bristles, buried themselves as deeply as possible in the
nearest mud-pool, and with eyes closed, submitted passively to the fiery
rays of the midday sun. The roaming chickens, from bald chicks a few
days old to the ruffled, fatless veterans of questionable age, suspended
their search for rare particles of food with which to satisfy their
torturing sense of hunger, and simply squatted where the heat overcame
them, in the nearest shady place, there to spend the enforced siesta
with bills wide open and the dry, blue tongues agitated by the rapid and
violent breathing. The birds of the air ceased their frolic; their song
was silenced, and they took refuge in trees with thickest foliage. Men,
women and children, rich and poor, merchant and laborer, were forced to
suspend work and play, and seek, in the shadow of their homes or near-by
trees, protection against the onslaught of the burning rays of the sun.
Such is the victory of the sun of the tropics. He demands unconditional
surrender on the part of every living thing. He knows no compromise, as
he is sure of victory as long as his victim is in a favorable strategic
position. This was the case on the day of which I speak. As the rays of
the sun became more and more oblique, and the invisible great fan of the
land-breeze was set in motion, wafting down from the high mountain peaks
a current of cool air, the city woke up from its midday slumber. The sun
had lost his fiery power. He was retreating from the field of combat,
and approaching in the distance the rim of the placid ocean. The monarch
of the day, so near his cool, watery couch, laid aside his mask of fire
and smiled upon the vanishing world with a face beaming with happiness
and peace.
The sun was set, and Vesper, to supply
His absent beams, had lighted up the sky.
DRYDEN.
It was an evening bright and still
As ever blush'd on wave or bower,
Smiling from heaven, as if naught ill
Could happen in so sweet an hour.
MOORE.
The last act of the retiring monarch of the day revealed his
incomparable skill as a painter. He showed discretion in the selection
of the time to demonstrate to the best advantage his matchless artistic
skill. He chose the evening hour, when the soul is best prepared to take
flight from earthly to heavenly things. He waited until man and beast
had laid aside the burden and cares of the day, and were in a receptive,
contemplative mood to study and appreciate the paintings suspended from
the paling blue dome of the sky.
He waited until he could hide himself from view behind the bank of
fleecy clouds moving lazily in the same direction. Then he grasped the
invisible palette charged with colors and tints of colors unknown to the
artists of this world, and seized the mystic, gigantic brush when
The setting sun, and music at the close.
As the last taste of sweets is sweeted last,
Writ in remembrance more than things long past.
SHAKESPEARE.
The time for this magic work was short. The moment the passing clouds
veiled his face it began. From the very beginning it became apparent
that the hidden artist exhibited superhuman skill. The most appreciative
and scrutinizing of his admirers felt powerless to comprehend and much
more to give a description of the panoramic views which he painted with
such rapid succession on the sky, clouds and the dull surface of the
dreamy, listless ocean. With intense interest we watched the constantly
varying, artistic display, felt keenly the shortcomings of human art,
and realized, to the fullest extent, the force and truth of
Who hath not proved how feebly words essay
To fix one spark of beauty's heavenly ray.
BYRON.
All painters place the greatest importance upon a proper background for
their pictures in order to give light and shade a strong expression. So
does the sun. With a few strokes of the magic brush, the deep blue of
the horizon was wiped out and replaced by the palest shade of blue, so
as to bring forth, in bolder relief, the resplendent colors on the
moving canvas of the clouds. The artist fringed the margins of the
clouds with delicate lace of shining gold. Through clefts and rents in
the clouds the smiling face of the painter peeped upon the beautiful
evening beyond. His work had only begun. In rapid turns the clouds were
converted into a sheet of gold with a violet border that deepened into a
vivid crimson hue. As the artist disappeared, inch by inch, under the
limitless expanse of the ocean, he wiped out the brilliant colors on the
canvas of clouds, and gilded the horizon with a sheet of gold, deepening
his favorite color, yellow, into an orange hue, which remained unchanged
until the approaching darkness threw a drapery of sombre black over the
inspiring scene. Twilight shuns the tropics. Day lapses into night
almost imperceptibly, and, with the setting of the sun, the earth is
wrapped in darkness. There is no compromise in the tropics, between the
rulers of day and night. With the disappearance of the last rays of the
sun, the pale blue dome of the sky is decorated with millions of
flickering stars, casting their feeble light upon land and sea through
the immeasurable ethereal medium which separates heaven from earth.
The sun has lost his rage; his downward orb
Shoots nothing now but animating warmth
And vital lustre.
THOMSON.
On the evening of which I speak, the short twilight foreshadowed the
appearance of the heavenly advance-guard proclaiming the coming of the
Queen of Night.
When the evening King gave place to night,
His beams he to his royal brother lent,
And so shone still in his reflected light.
DRYDEN.
Looking in the direction opposite from where the monarch of the day had
disappeared, the cloudless sky brightened over the bare gray
mountain-peak, and the stars, in joyful anticipation of the approaching
event, abandoned their stoic immobility and trembled in feverish
excitement. An impressive silence reigned in the little city, broken now
and then by the almost noiseless footsteps of half-naked, barefoot
natives, or the clattering of the hoofs of a horse and humming of the
wheels of a passing cart, and, once or twice, by the whirr of the only
automobile in the island, steered by an enterprising, prosperous French
merchant.
Nature awoke from her noonday slumber, the glossy leaves resumed their
natural shape and freshness, the drooping flowers revived, expanded and
exhaled their fragrance, perfuming the evening air. The birds had found
shelter and protection for the night in the leafy domes of the many
beautiful shade and ornamental trees. It was solemn eveningtide, when
the heart of man is most receptive for noble and pure impressions. It
was the time to turn away the thoughts from the busy, selfish world and
reflect upon the wonders of creation. It was the time to look upward to
the calm, pale, blue sky, feebly illuminated by the soft light of
countless tiny lamps suspended by invisible cords from the limitless
space above. It was the time to look beyond earthly things. It was the
time to understand:
The beauty of the world and the orderly arrangement of everything
celestial makes us confess that there is an excellent and eternal
nature, which ought to be worshiped and admired by all mankind.
CICERO.
We were speechless spectators of the passing and coming. Our thoughts
were turned to the invisible hand that created the earth we inhabit and
all of the heavenly bodies, and which directs their movements with
infallible precision and unfailing regularity. We thought of things
incomprehensible to man, of things far beyond the grasp of the human
mind, of things known only to the Almighty Lord, Creator of all things
in heaven and earth.
With our eyes fixed on the gateway of entrance of the Queen of Night, we
patiently awaited her arrival, anxious, however, to catch the first
glimpse of her beautiful face. No blare of trumpets or bugle call
announced her approach. She rose in the sky silently, resplendent in her
own magic beauty, and her charms are always sweetest when the nights are
calm and peaceful. She combined beauty with two of the most attractive
feminine virtues—modesty and gentleness. As we watched her regal
entrance into the sky, the golden arch assumed the deep yellow hue of
the precious metal it resembled, and, in a few moments, the pale rim of
her sweet face rose over the dark, bald mountain-peak, and ascended
slowly and majestically, higher and higher, away from earthly things, on
her journey through the pathless sky. This evening she appeared in
perfect glory, permitting us to look into her full, calm face. Her
consort, the sun, had just disappeared, leaving behind him a golden
crescent on the opposite horizon. She was following his pathway and had
taken possession of his throne for the night. The departing sun and the
ascending moon were in strange and pleasing contrast at the threshold of
that beautiful night.
O! belle nuit! mit preferable au jour!
Premier nuit a amour consacree!
En sa faveur, prolonge ta duree,
Et du soleil retarde le retour.
DE MALFILATRE.
The moon loves to reign in peace and quietude. She abhors the tumult of
the battle-field and the struggles of man for wealth and honor. She is
the friend of the wounded, the sick and the poor; and the guardian angel
of all those in need of repose. As she ascended heavenward, the rippling
ocean became a great mirror, a mirror worthy to reflect her beautiful
face. The soft, pale light streaming out from the silvery orb cast
phantom-like shadows in the forests, parks and streets. Solemnity
reigned supreme.
On seas, on earth, and all that in them dwell,
A death-like and deep silence fell.
WALLER.
Happy the people who respect and love the Queen of Night and her reign
of peace and rest! Charming Queen! Retard your journey, prolong your
peaceful mission for the well-being of your loyal subjects so much in
need of your calming influence and of your soft, soothing light! To such
petitions the goddess of the sky has only one inflexible reply: "The
universe is my kingdom, the earth you live in is only one of my smallest
possessions. I must remain loyal to all of my realms."
This evening in Tahiti had another and still more sublime entertainment
in store for us, a spectacle which can be seen in perfection only in the
tropics, and, I imagine, Tahiti is the stage more perfect than any other
in the world for the display of one of nature's grandest exhibitions.
The soft light of the rising moon and the myriads of tiny, flickering
stars furnished the illumination; the mountains, forests, harbor and
ocean, the stage. We were roused from our reverie by distant peals of
thunder. Looking in the direction whence these reports came, we saw
black, angry clouds hovering about the mountain-peaks to the south and
east of Papeete. The clouds were too heavy for the rarified mountain air
and soon began to descend slowly but steadily until they wrapped the
towering summits in a cloak of sombre black. The mountain-peaks, which
but a short time before were caressed by the gentle, silvery light of
the moon, were now completely obscured. Where did these clouds come
from? No one could tell. No one could mistake their movements. They
appeared to have had only one object in view, and that was to embrace
the mountain-range well below the tree-line. Smaller clouds, fragments
from the main mass, moving more swiftly in the evening air, impelled by
the land-breeze, floated away from the dark wall enveloping the
mountainsides, which seemed to possess some subtle, magnetic power
buried in the Immense piles of volcanic rocks. At short intervals, great
zigzag chains of lightning shot through these dark clouds, momentarily
lighting up the dark, unbroken, primeval forest. These dazzling,
blinding flashes of lightning were in strong contrast with the soft,
tropic moonshine that remained outside of the limits of the aerial sea
of clouds, which had commenced to discharge a drenching rain. Fleecy
little wandering clouds now flecked the horizon, strangely and variously
painted by the moonlight, shortly before the midnight hour. Through
fissures in these fleeting, snowy clouds, the moon and stars often
peeped at the grand spectacle which was being enacted on the stage
below. Lightning and thunder came nearer and nearer with the approach of
the weeping mass of clouds. The bolts of lightning must have found their
marks with unerring precision in the crags and forest underneath the
roof of dense clouds, as from there came at short intervals deafening
peals of thunder reverberating through the calm evening air far out over
the surface of the sleeping ocean, where the reverberations died out in
a faint rumbling.
This majestic but awesome sight was of short duration. The pouring rain
relieved the clouds of their abnormal weight, and, balloon-like, they
rose, clearing the mountain-range, which then again made its appearance
in the soft, bewitching moonlight of the tropics. Lightning and thunder
retreated with the disappearance of the clouds. The atmosphere was cool
and refreshing, purified by the pouring rain and the furious electric
storm. At this stage of the nightly display in our immediate vicinity,
in front of the veranda of the little hotel, in full view of the now
deserted stage, from the clear, cloudless sky, gigantic drops of rain
fell, sparkling in the magic moonlight like diamonds that had become
loosened and had fallen from the jeweled crown of the Queen of Night,
whose throne had then reached the zenith of the horizon.
Instead of wishing for an encore after such a brilliant act given by
nature's artists, we took one more and last look at the serene, smiling,
full face of the moon, and were then prepared to acknowledge reverently:
What else is nature but God, and divine reason, residing in the whole
world and its parts.
SENECA.
IORANA!
The South Sea Islanders have beautiful words of welcome with which they
meet the stranger. The Samoan greets you with _talofa_; the Hawaiian, with
a clear, musical voice, welcomes you with _aloha nui_; and the Tahitian,
with an open, friendly face and a smile, when he meets you, addresses
you with that beautiful greeting, _iorana_. These euphonious words mean
more than the words of our language intended for the same purpose; they
come from the heart and are addressed to the heart much more so than our
"Welcome," "How do you do?" "How are you?" or "I am glad to see you."
These Polynesian words are not only words of welcome, but carry with
them the best wishes of the natives for the stranger; they signify not
only a formality, but also express a sincerity which is so often lacking
in our conventional meetings with friends and strangers. The visitor who
remains long enough in Tahiti to become acquainted with the natives will
find that their greeting, _iorana_, is verified by their actions. The
natives, educated and ignorant, young and old, are polite, friendly and
hospitable to a fault. They are fond of making little gifts to
strangers, and if these are reciprocated, they are really and honestly
grateful. The people are charming, the island beautiful, and nature's
storehouse never empty of the choicest that the sea can supply and the
soil can produce. Any one who has seen Tahiti, the Island Paradise, on
leaving it, and ever after, in recalling his experiences and
observations in this island of peace, rest, charms and pleasures, will
give expression to his feelings by repeating to himself.
Isle of Beauty!
Absence makes the heart grow fonder:
Isle of Beauty, fare thee well!
BAYLY.
THE END
ADDENDA
TAHITI
The waves that touch thy pebbly beach
With soft, caressing hand;
The scented breezes winging past
Above thy favored land;
The brilliant flowers, the glowing fruits,
Close to thy bosom pressed,
All, all are singing one sweet song,
Whose soft refrain is, Rest!
The sunset brush that tints thy skies
With wondrous, varied rays;
The birds that fill thy woodland haunts
With music's roundelays;
The sparkling streams meandering through
Thy valleys ever blest.
All, all are breathing one sweet song.
Whose soft refrain is, Rest!
The twilight hour that floods the soul
With waves of perfect calm.
Then gives us to the Queen of Night,
Who pours her soothing balm;
The still lagoon with coral reefs
Where beauty makes its nest.
All, all are breathing one sweet song.
Whose soft refrain is, Rest!
O Isle of Beauty! poets may
Dip pens in wells of light,
Or soar aloft on Fancy's wings
In wild, aerial flight;
But they can never voice thy charms,
O Island of the Blest!
Whose very air is perfumed with
The fragrance rare of Rest!
O Isle of Beauty! artists may
Coax every varied hue,
To lay upon the canvas wide
A portrait true of you;
But till they borrow heaven's power
To paint thee. Island Blest,
The task is vain, O Land of Peace,
Whose every breeze sings Rest!
Where man knows all the blissful charm
Of care-free, deep content;
Where life seems one long holiday
In childish gladness spent;
Where earth and air and sea and sky
So close to God seem pressed;
Ah, loath am I to turn from thee.
Dear Land of Perfect Rest!
MARY E. GRIFFIN.
THE STORY OF ARIITAIMAI OF TAHITI[1]
I wish peace, and any terms prefer
Before the last extremities of war.
DRYDEN.