History of a day as usually spent in the Typee valley—Dances of the
Marquesan girls.
Nothing can be more uniform and undiversified than the life of the
Typees; one tranquil day of ease and happiness follows another in quiet
succession; and with these unsophisticated savages the history of a day
is the history of a life. I will therefore, as briefly as I can,
describe one of our days in the valley.
To begin with the morning. We were not very early risers—the sun would
be shooting his golden spikes above the Happar mountain, ere I threw
aside my tappa robe, and girding my long tunic about my waist, sallied
out with Fayaway and Kory-Kory, and the rest of the household, and bent
my steps towards the stream. Here we found congregated all those who
dwelt in our section of the valley; and here we bathed with them. The
fresh morning air and the cool flowing waters put both soul and body in
a glow, and after a half-hour employed in this recreation, we sauntered
back to the house—Tinor and Marheyo gathering dry sticks by the way for
firewood; some of the young men laying the cocoa-nut trees under
contribution as they passed beneath them; while Kory-Kory played his
outlandish pranks for my particular diversion, and Fayaway and I, not
arm in arm to be sure, but sometimes hand in hand, strolled along, with
feelings of perfect charity for all the world, and especial good-will
towards each other.
Our morning meal was soon prepared. The islanders are somewhat
abstemious at this repast; reserving the more powerful efforts of their
appetite to a later period of the day. For my own part, with the
assistance of my valet, who, as I have before stated, always officiated
as spoon on these occasions, I ate sparingly from one of Tinor’s
trenchers of poee-poee; which was devoted exclusively for my own use,
being mixed with the milky meat of ripe cocoa-nut. A section of a
roasted bread-fruit, a small cake of “Amar,” or a mess of “Kokoo,” two
or three bananas, or a Mawmee apple; an annuee, or some other agreeable
and nutritious fruit, served from day to day to diversify the meal,
which was finished by tossing off the liquid contents of a young
cocoa-nut or two.
While partaking of this simple repast, the inmates of Marheyo’s house,
after the style of the ancient Romans, reclined in sociable groups upon
the divan of mats, and digestion was promoted by cheerful conversation.
After the morning meal was concluded, pipes were lighted; and among
them my own special pipe, a present from the noble Mehevi. The
islanders, who only smoke a whiff or two at a time, and at long
intervals, and who keep their pipes going from hand to hand
continually, regarded my systematic smoking of four or five pipefuls of
tobacco in succession as something quite wonderful. When two or three
pipes had circulated freely, the company gradually broke up. Marheyo
went to the little hut he was for ever building. Tinor began to inspect
her rolls of tappa, or employed her busy fingers in plaiting
grass-mats. The girls anointed themselves with their fragrant oils,
dressed their hair, or looked over their curious finery, and compared
together their ivory trinkets, fashioned out of boar’s tusks or whale’s
teeth. The young men and warriors produced their spears, paddles,
canoe-gear, battle-clubs, and war-conchs, and occupied themselves in
carving all sorts of figures upon them with pointed bits of shell or
flint, and adorning them, especially the war-conchs, with tassels of
braided bark and tufts of human hair. Some, immediately after eating,
threw themselves once more upon the inviting mats, and resumed the
employment of the previous night, sleeping as soundly as if they had
not closed their eyes for a week. Others sallied out into the groves,
for the purpose of gathering fruit or fibres of bark and leaves; the
last two being in constant requisition, and applied to a hundred uses.
A few, perhaps, among the girls, would slip into the woods after
flowers, or repair to the stream with small calabashes and cocoa-nut
shells, in order to polish them by friction with a smooth stone in the
water. In truth these innocent people seemed to be at no loss for
something to occupy their time; and it would be no light task to
enumerate all their employments, or rather pleasures.
My own mornings I spent in a variety of ways. Sometimes I rambled about
from house to house, sure of receiving a cordial welcome wherever I
went; or, from grove to grove, and from one shady place to another, in
company with Kory-Kory and Fayaway, and a rabble rout of merry young
idlers. Sometimes I was too indolent for exercise, and, accepting one
of the many invitations I was continually receiving, stretched myself
out on the mats of some hospitable dwelling, and occupied myself
pleasantly either in watching the proceedings of those around me, or
taking part in them myself. Whenever I chose to do the latter, the
delight of the islanders was boundless; and there was always a throng
of competitors for the honor of instructing me in any particular craft.
I soon became quite an accomplished hand at making tappa—could braid a
grass sling as well as the best of them—and once, with my knife, carved
the handle of a javelin so exquisitely that I have no doubt, to this
day, Karnoonoo, its owner, preserves it as a surprising specimen of my
skill. As noon approached, all those who had wandered forth from our
habitation began to return; and when mid-day was fairly come, scarcely
a sound was to be heard in the valley—a deep sleep fell upon all. The
luxurious siesta was hardly ever omitted, except by old Marheyo, who
was so eccentric a character, that he seemed to be governed by no fixed
principles whatever; but acting just according to the humour of the
moment, slept, eat, or tinkered away at his little hut, without regard
to the proprieties of time or place. Frequently he might have been seen
taking a nap in the sun at noon-day, or a bath in the stream at
midnight. Once I beheld him perched eighty feet from the ground, in the
tuft of a cocoa-nut tree, smoking; and often I saw him standing up to
the waist in water, engaged in plucking out the stray hairs of his
beard, using a piece of muscle-shell for tweezers.
The noontide slumber lasted generally an hour and a half, very often
longer; and after the sleepers had arisen from their mats they again
had recourse to their pipes, and then made preparations for the most
important meal of the day.
I, however, like those gentlemen of leisure who breakfast at home and
dine at their club, almost invariably, during my intervals of health,
enjoyed the afternoon repast with the bachelor chiefs of the Ti, who
were always rejoiced to see me, and lavishly spread before me all the
good things which their larder afforded. Mehevi generally produced,
among other dainties, a baked pig, an article which, I have every
reason to suppose, was provided for my sole gratification.
The Ti was a right jovial place. It did my heart, as well as my body,
good to visit it. Secure from female intrusion, there was no restraint
upon the hilarity of the warriors, who, like the gentlemen of Europe
after the cloth is drawn, and the ladies retire, freely indulged their
mirth.
After spending a considerable portion of the afternoon at the Ti, I
usually found myself, as the cool of the evening came on, either
sailing on the little lake with Fayaway, or bathing in the waters of
the stream with a number of the savages, who, at this hour, always
repaired thither. As the shadows of night approached, Marheyo’s
household were once more assembled under his roof; tapers were lit,
long and curious chants were raised, interminable stories were told
(for which one present was little the wiser), and all sorts of social
festivities served to while away the time.
The young girls very often danced by moonlight in front of their
dwellings. There are a great variety of these dances, in which,
however, I never saw the men take part. They all consist of active,
romping, mischievous evolutions, in which every limb is brought into
requisition. Indeed, the Marquesan girls dance all over, as it were;
not only do their feet dance, but their arms, hands, fingers, ay, their
very eyes seem to dance in their heads.
The damsels wear nothing but flowers and their compendious gala tunics;
and when they plume themselves for the dance, one would almost think
that they were about to take wing.
Unless some particular festivity was going forward, the inmates of
Marheyo’s house retired to their mats rather early in the evening; but
not for the night, since after slumbering lightly for awhile, they rose
again, relit their tapers, partook of the third and last meal of the
day, at which poee-poee alone was eaten, and then, after inhaling a
narcotic whiff from a pipe of tobacco, disposed themselves for the
great business of the night—sleep. With the Marquesans it might almost
be styled the great business of life, for they pass a large portion of
their time in the arms of Somnus. The native strength of their
constitution is no way shown more emphatically than in the quantity of
sleep they can endure. To many of them, indeed, life is little else
than an often interrupted and luxurious nap.