A great event happens in the valley—The island telegraph—Something
befalls Toby—Fayaway displays a tender heart—Melancholy
reflections—Mysterious conduct of the islanders—Devotion of Kory-Kory—A
rural couch—A luxury—Kory-Kory strikes a light _à la_ Typee.
In the course of a few days Toby had recovered from the effects of his
adventure with the Happar warriors; the wound on his head rapidly
healing under the vegetable treatment of the good Tinor. Less fortunate
than my companion, however, I still continued to languish under a
complaint, the origin and nature of which was still a mystery. Cut off
as I was from all intercourse with the civilized world, and feeling the
inefficacy of anything the natives could do to relieve me; knowing,
too, that so long as I remained in my present condition it would be
impossible for me to leave the valley, whatever opportunity might
present itself; and apprehensive that ere long we might be exposed to
some caprice on the part of the islanders, I now gave up all hopes of
recovery, and became a prey to the most gloomy thoughts. A deep
dejection fell upon me, which neither the friendly remonstrances of my
companion, the devoted attentions of Kory-Kory, nor all the soothing
influences of Fayaway, could remove.
One morning, as I lay on the mats in the house plunged in melancholy
reverie, and regardless of everything around me, Toby, who had left me
about an hour, returned in haste, and with great glee told me to cheer
up and be of good heart, for he believed, from what was going on among
the natives, that there were boats approaching the bay.
These tidings operated upon me like magic. The hour of our deliverance
was at hand, and, starting up, I was soon convinced that something
unusual was about to occur. The word “botee! botee!” was vociferated in
all directions; and shouts were heard in the distance, at first feebly
and faintly, but growing louder and nearer at each successive
repetition, until they were caught up by a fellow in a cocoa-nut tree a
few yards off, who, sounding them in turn, they were reiterated from a
neighbouring grove, and so died away gradually from point to point, as
the intelligence penetrated into the farthest recesses of the valley.
This was the vocal telegraph of the islanders; by means of which,
condensed items of information could be carried in a very few minutes
from the sea to their remotest habitation, a distance of at least eight
or nine miles. On the present occasion it was in active operation, one
piece of information following another with inconceivable rapidity.
The greatest commotion now appeared to prevail. At every fresh item of
intelligence the natives betrayed the liveliest interest, and redoubled
the energy with which they employed themselves in collecting fruit to
sell to the expected visitors. Some were tearing off the husks from
cocoa-nuts; some, perched in the trees, were throwing down bread-fruit
to their companions, who gathered them in heaps as they fell; while
others were plying their fingers rapidly in weaving leafen baskets in
which to carry the fruit.
There were other matters, too, going on at the same time. Here you
would see a stout warrior polishing his spear with a bit of old tappa,
or adjusting the folds of the girdle about his waist; and there you
might descry a young damsel decorating herself with flowers, as if
having in her eye some maidenly conquest; while, as in all cases of
hurry and confusion in every part of the world, a number of individuals
kept hurrying to and fro with amazing vigour and perseverance, doing
nothing themselves, and hindering others.
Never before had we seen the islanders in such a state of bustle and
excitement; and the scene furnished abundant evidence of the fact—that
it was only at long intervals any such events occur.
When I thought of the length of time that might intervene before a
similar chance of escape would be presented, I bitterly lamented that I
had not the power of availing myself effectually of the present
opportunity.
From all that we could gather, it appeared that the natives were
fearful of arriving too late upon the beach, unless they made
extraordinary exertions. Sick and lame as I was, I would have started
with Toby at once, had not Kory-Kory not only refused to carry me, but
manifested the most invincible repugnance to our leaving the
neighbourhood of the house. The rest of the savages were equally
opposed to our wishes, and seemed grieved and astonished at the
earnestness of my solicitations. I clearly perceived that, while my
attendant avoided all appearance of constraining my movements, he was
nevertheless determined to thwart my wishes. He seemed to me on this
particular occasion, as well as often afterwards, to be executing the
orders of some other person with regard to me, though at the same time
feeling towards me the most lively affection.
Toby, who had made up his mind to accompany the islanders if possible
as soon as they were in readiness to depart, and who for that reason
had refrained from showing the same anxiety that I had done, now
represented to me that it was idle for me to entertain the hope of
reaching the beach in time to profit by any opportunity that might then
be presented.
“Do you not see,” said he, “the savages themselves are fearful of being
too late, and I should hurry forward myself at once, did I not think
that, if I showed too much eagerness, I should destroy all our hopes of
reaping any benefit from this fortunate event. If you will only
endeavour to appear tranquil or unconcerned, you will quiet their
suspicions, and I have no doubt they will then let me go with them to
the beach, supposing that I merely go out of curiosity. Should I
succeed in getting down to the boats, I will make known the condition
in which I have left you, and measures may then be taken to secure our
escape.”
In the expediency of this I could not but acquiesce; and as the natives
had now completed their preparations, I watched with the liveliest
interest the reception that Toby’s application might meet with. As soon
as they understood from my companion that I intended to remain, they
appeared to make no objection to this proposition, and even hailed it
with pleasure. Their singular conduct on this occasion not a little
puzzled me at the time, and imparted to subsequent events an additional
mystery.
The islanders were now to be seen hurrying along the path which led to
the sea. I shook Toby warmly by the hand, and gave him my Payta hat to
shield his wounded head from the sun, as he had lost his own. He
cordially returned the pressure of my hand, and, solemnly promising to
return as soon as the boats should leave the shore, sprang from my
side, and the next minute disappeared in a turn of the grove.
In spite of the unpleasant reflections that crowded upon my mind, I
could not but be entertained by the novel and animated sight which now
met my view. One after another, the natives crowded along the narrow
path, laden with every variety of fruit. Here, you might have seen one,
who, after ineffectually endeavouring to persuade a surly porker to be
conducted in leading-strings, was obliged at last to seize the perverse
animal in his arms, and carry him struggling again his naked breast,
and squealing without intermission. There went two, who at a little
distance might have been taken for the Hebrew spies, on their return to
Moses with the goodly bunch of grapes. One trotted before the other at
a distance of a couple of yards, while between them, from a pole
resting on their shoulders, was suspended a huge cluster of bananas,
which swayed to and fro with the rocking gait at which they proceeded.
Here ran another, perspiring with his exertions, and bearing before him
a quantity of cocoa-nuts, who, fearful of being too late, heeded not
the fruit that dropped from his basket, and appeared solely intent upon
reaching his destination, careless how many of his cocoa-nuts kept
company with him.
In a short time the last straggler was seen hurrying on his way, and
the faint shouts of those in advance died insensibly upon the ear. Our
part of the valley now appeared nearly deserted by its inhabitants,
Kory-Kory, his aged father, and a few decrepid old people being all
that were left.
Towards sunset, the islanders in small parties began to return from the
beach, and among them, as they drew near to the house, I sought to
descry the form of my companion. But one after another they passed the
dwelling, and I caught no glimpse of him. Supposing, however, that he
would soon appear with some of the members of the household, I quieted
my apprehensions, and waited patiently to see him advancing, in company
with the beautiful Fayaway. At last I perceived Tinor coming forward,
followed by the girls and young men who usually resided in the house of
Marheyo; but with them came not my comrade, and, filled with a thousand
alarms, I eagerly sought to discover the cause of his delay.
My earnest questions appeared to embarrass the natives greatly. All
their accounts were contradictory: one giving me to understand that
Toby would be with me in a very short time; another, that he did not
know where he was; while a third, violently inveighing against him,
assured me that he had stolen away, and would never come back. It
appeared to me, at the time, that in making these various statements
they endeavoured to conceal from me some terrible disaster, lest the
knowledge of it should overpower me.
Fearful lest some fatal calamity had overtaken him, I sought out young
Fayaway, and endeavoured to learn from her, if possible, the truth.
This gentle being had early attracted my regard, not only from her
extraordinary beauty, but from the attractive cast of her countenance,
singularly expressive of intelligence and humanity. Of all the natives,
she alone seemed to appreciate the effect which the peculiarity of the
circumstances in which we were placed had produced upon the minds of my
companion and myself. In addressing me—especially when I lay reclining
upon the mats suffering from pain—there was a tenderness in her manner
which it was impossible to misunderstand or resist. Whenever she
entered the house, the expression of her face indicated the liveliest
sympathy for me; and moving towards the place where I lay, with one arm
slightly elevated in a gesture of pity, and her large glistening eyes
gazing intently into mine, she would murmur plaintively, “Awha! awha!
Tommo,” and seat herself mournfully beside me.
Her manner convinced me that she deeply compassionated my situation, as
being removed from my country and friends, and placed beyond the reach
of all relief. Indeed, at times I was almost led to believe that her
mind was swayed by gentle impulses hardly to be anticipated from one in
her condition; that she appeared to be conscious there were ties rudely
severed, which had once bound us to our homes; that there were sisters
and brothers anxiously looking forward to our return, who were perhaps
never more to behold us.
In this amiable light did Fayaway appear in my eyes; and, reposing full
confidence in her candour and intelligence, I now had recourse to her,
in the midst of my alarm with regard to my companion.
My questions evidently distressed her. She looked round from one to
another of the bystanders, as if hardly knowing what answer to give me.
At last, yielding to my importunities, she overcame her scruples, and
gave me to understand that Toby had gone away with the boats which had
visited the bay, but had promised to return at the expiration of three
days. At first I accused him of perfidiously deserting me; but as I
grew more composed, I upbraided myself for imputing so cowardly an
action to him, and tranquillized myself with the belief that he had
availed himself of the opportunity to go round to Nukuheva, in order to
make some arrangement by which I could be removed from the valley. At
any rate, thought I, he will return with the medicines I require, and
then, as soon as I recover, there will be no difficulty in the way of
our departure.
Consoling myself with these reflections, I lay down that night in a
happier frame of mind than I had done for some time. The next day
passed without any allusion to Toby on the part of the natives, who
seemed desirous of avoiding all reference to the subject. This raised
some apprehensions in my breast; but, when night came, I congratulated
myself that the second day had now gone by, and that on the morrow Toby
would again be with me. But the morrow came and went, and my companion
did not appear. Ah! thought I, he reckons three days from the morning
of his departure—to-morrow he will arrive. But that weary day also
closed upon me without his return. Even yet I would not despair. I
thought that something detained him—that he was waiting for the sailing
of a boat at Nukuheva, and that in a day or two, at farthest, I should
see him again. But day after day of renewed disappointment passed by;
at last hope deserted me, and I fell a victim to despair.
Yes, thought I, gloomily, he has secured his own escape, and cares not
what calamity may befall his unfortunate comrade. Fool that I was, to
suppose that any one would willingly encounter the perils of this
valley, after having once got beyond its limits! He has gone, and has
left me to combat alone all the dangers by which I am surrounded. Thus
would I sometimes seek to derive a desperate consolation from dwelling
upon the perfidy of Toby; whilst, at other times, I sunk under the
bitter remorse which I felt at having, by my own imprudence, brought
upon myself the fate which I was sure awaited me.
At other times I thought that perhaps, after all, these treacherous
savages had made away with him, and thence the confusion into which
they were thrown by my questions, and their contradictory answers; or
he might be a captive in some other part of the valley; or, more
dreadful still, might have met with that fate at which my very soul
shuddered. But all these speculations were vain; no tidings of Toby
ever reached me—he had gone never to return.
The conduct of the islanders appeared inexplicable. All reference to my
lost comrade was carefully evaded, and if at any time they were forced
to make some reply to my frequent inquiries on the subject, they would
uniformly denounce him as an ungrateful runaway, who had deserted his
friend, and taken himself off to that vile and detestable place
Nukuheva.
But whatever might have been his fate, now that he was gone the natives
multiplied their acts of kindness and attention towards myself,
treating me with a degree of deference which could hardly have been
surpassed had I been some celestial visitant. Kory-Kory never for one
moment left my side, unless it were to execute my wishes. The faithful
fellow, twice every day, in the cool of the morning and in the evening,
insisted upon carrying me to the stream, and bathing me in its
refreshing water.
Frequently, in the afternoon, he would carry me to a particular part of
the stream, where the beauty of the scene produced a soothing influence
upon my mind. At this place the waters flowed between grassy banks,
planted with enormous bread-fruit trees, whose vast branches,
interlacing overhead, formed a leafy canopy; near the stream were
several smooth black rocks. One of these, projecting several feet above
the surface of the water, had upon its summit a shallow cavity, which,
filled with freshly-gathered leaves, formed a delightful couch.
Here I often laid for hours, covered with a gauze-like veil of tappa,
while Fayaway, seated beside me, and holding in her hand a fan woven
from the leaflets of a young cocoa-nut bough, brushed aside the insects
that occasionally lighted on my face, and Kory-Kory, with a view of
chasing away my melancholy, performed a thousand antics in the water
before us.
As my eye wandered along this romantic stream, it would fall upon the
half-immersed figure of a beautiful girl, standing in the transparent
water, and catching in a little net a species of diminutive shell-fish,
of which these people are extravagantly fond. Sometimes a chattering
group would be seated upon the edge of a low rock in the midst of the
brook, busily engaged in thinning and polishing the shells of
cocoa-nuts, by rubbing them briskly with a small stone in the water, an
operation which soon converts them into a light and elegant
drinking-vessel, somewhat resembling goblets made of tortoise-shell.
But the tranquillizing influences of beautiful scenery, and the
exhibition of human life under so novel and charming an aspect, were
not my only sources of consolation.
Every evening the girls of the house gathered about me on the mats,
and, after chasing away Kory-Kory from my side—who, nevertheless,
retired only to a little distance, and watched their proceedings with
the most jealous attention—would anoint my body with a fragrant oil,
squeezed from a yellow root, previously pounded between a couple of
stones, and which in their language is denominated “aka.” I used to
hail with delight the daily recurrence of this luxurious operation, in
which I forgot all my troubles, and buried for the time every feeling
of sorrow.
Sometimes, in the cool of the evening, my devoted servitor would lead
me out upon the pi-pi in front of the house, and, seating me near its
edge, protect my body from the annoyance of the insects which
occasionally hovered in the air, by wrapping me round with a large roll
of tappa. He then bustled about, and employed himself at least twenty
minutes in adjusting everything to secure my personal comfort.
Having perfected his arrangements, he would get my pipe, and, lighting
it, would hand it to me. Often he was obliged to strike a light for the
occasion; and as the mode he adopted was entirely different from what I
had ever seen or heard of before, I will describe it.
A straight, dry, and partly-decayed stick of the Habiscus, about six
feet in length, and half as many inches in diameter, with a smaller bit
of wood, not more than a foot long, and scarcely an inch wide, is as
invariably to be met with in every house in Typee, as a box of lucifer
matches in the corner of a kitchen-cupboard at home.
The islander, placing the larger stick obliquely against some object,
with one end elevated at an angle of forty-five degrees, mounts astride
of it, like an urchin about to gallop off upon a cane, and then,
grasping the smaller one firmly in both hands, he rubs its pointed end
slowly up and down the extent of a few inches on the principal stick,
until at last he makes a narrow groove in the wood, with an abrupt
termination at the point farthest from him, where all the dusty
particles which the friction creates are accumulated in a little heap.
At first Kory-Kory goes to work quite leisurely, but gradually quickens
his pace, and, waxing warm in the employment, drives the stick
furiously along the smoking channel, plying his hands to and fro with
amazing rapidity, the perspiration starting from every pore. As he
approaches the climax of his effort, he pants and gasps for breath, and
his eyes almost start from their sockets with the violence of his
exertions. This is the critical stage of the operation; all his
previous labours are vain if he cannot sustain the rapidity of the
movement until the reluctant spark is produced. Suddenly he stops,
becomes perfectly motionless. His hands still retain their hold of the
smaller stick, which is pressed convulsively against the farther end of
the channel, among the fine powder there accumulated, as if he had just
pierced through and through some little viper that was wriggling and
struggling to escape from his clutches. The next moment a delicate
wreath of smoke curls spirally into the air, the heap of dusty
particles glows with fire, and Kory-Kory, almost breathless, dismounts
from his steed.
This operation appeared to me to be the most laborious species of work
performed in Typee; and had I possessed a sufficient intimacy with the
language to have conveyed my ideas upon the subject, I should certainly
have suggested to the most influential of the natives the expediency of
establishing in a college of vestals, to be centrally located in the
valley, for the purpose of keeping alive the indispensable article of
fire, so as to supersede the necessity of such a vast outlay of
strength and good temper as were usually squandered on these occasions.
There might, however, be special difficulties in carrying this plan
into execution.
What a striking evidence does this operation furnish of the wide
difference between the extreme of savage and civilized life! A
gentleman of Typee can bring up a numerous family of children, and give
them all a highly respectable cannibal education, with infinitely less
toil and anxiety than he expends in the simple process of striking a
light; whilst a poor European artisan, who through the instrumentality
of a lucifer performs the same operation in one second, is put to his
wit’s end to provide for his starving offspring that food, which the
children of a Polynesian father, without troubling their parents, pluck
from the branches of every tree around them.