WE START FOR TALOO
Bright was the morning, and brighter still the smiles of the young
ladies who accompanied us, when we sprang into a sort of family
canoe—wide and roomy—and bade adieu to the hospitable Marharvai and his
tenantry. As we paddled away, they stood upon the beach, waving their
hands, and crying out, “aroha! aroha!” (farewell! farewell!) as long as
we were within hearing.
Very sad at parting with them, we endeavoured, nevertheless, to console
ourselves in the society of our fellow-passengers. Among these were two
old ladies; but as they said nothing to us, we will say nothing about
them; nor anything about the old men who managed the canoe. But of the
three mischievous, dark-eyed young witches who lounged in the stern of
that comfortable old island gondola, I have a great deal to say.
In the first place, one of them was Marhar-Rarrar, the Bright-Eyed;
and, in the second place, neither she nor the romps, her companions,
ever dreamed of taking the voyage until the doctor and myself announced
our intention; their going along was nothing more than a madcap frolic;
in short, they were a parcel of wicked hoydens, bent on mischief, who
laughed in your face when you looked sentimental, and only tolerated
your company when making merry at your expense.
Something or other about us was perpetually awaking their mirth.
Attributing this to his own remarkable figure, the doctor increased
their enjoyment by assuming the part of a Merry Andrew. Yet his cap and
bells never jingled but to some tune; and while playing the Tom-fool, I
more than suspected that he was trying to play the rake. At home, it is
deemed auspicious to go a-wooing in epaulets; but among the
Polynesians, your best dress in courting is motley.
A fresh breeze springing up, we set our sail of matting, and glided
along as tranquilly as if floating upon an inland stream; the white
reef on one hand, and the green shore on the other.
Soon, as we turned a headland, we encountered another canoe, paddling
with might and main in an opposite direction; the strangers shouting to
each other, and a tall fellow in the bow dancing up and down like a
crazy man. They shot by us like an arrow, though our fellow-voyagers
shouted again and again for them to cease paddling.
According to the natives, this was a kind of royal mail-canoe, carrying
a message from the queen to her friends in a distant part of the
island.
Passing several shady bowers which looked quite inviting, we proposed
touching, and diversifying the monotony of a sea-voyage by a stroll
ashore. So, forcing our canoe among the bushes, behind a decayed palm
lying partly in the water, we left the old folks to take a nap in the
shade, and gallanted the others among the trees, which were here
trellised with vines and creeping shrubs.
In the early part of the afternoon, we drew near the place to which the
party were going. It was a solitary house inhabited by four or five old
women, who, when we entered, were gathered in a circle about the mats,
eating poee from a cracked calabash. They seemed delighted at seeing
our companions, but rather drew up when introduced to ourselves. Eyeing
us distrustfully, they whispered to know who we were. The answers they
received were not satisfactory; for they treated us with marked
coolness and reserve, and seemed desirous of breaking off our
acquaintance with the girls. Unwilling, therefore, to stay where our
company was disagreeable, we resolved to depart without even eating a
meal.
Informed of this, Marhar-Rarrar and her companions evinced the most
lively concern; and equally unmindful of their former spirits, and the
remonstrances of the old ladies, broke forth into sobs and lamentations
which were not to be withstood. We agreed, therefore, to tarry until
they left for home; which would be at the “Aheharar,” or Falling of the
Sun; in other words, at sunset.
When the hour arrived, after much leave-taking, we saw them safely
embarked. As the canoe turned a bluff, they seized the paddles from the
hands of the old men, and waved them silently in the air. This was
meant for a touching farewell, as the paddle is only waved thus when
the parties separating never more expect to meet.
We now continued our journey; and, following the beach, soon came to a
level and lofty overhanging bank, which, planted here and there with
trees, took a broad sweep round a considerable part of the island.
A fine pathway skirted the edge of the bank; and often we paused to
admire the scenery. The evening was still and fair, even for so
heavenly a climate; and all round, as far as the eye could reach, was
the blending blue sky and ocean.
As we went on, the reef-belt still accompanied us; turning as we
turned, and thundering its distant bass upon the ear, like the unbroken
roar of a cataract. Dashing forever against their coral rampart, the
breakers looked, in the distance, like a line of rearing white
chargers, reined in, tossing their white manes, and bridling with foam.
These great natural breakwaters are admirably designed for the
protection of the land. Nearly all the Society Islands are defended by
them. Were the vast swells of the Pacific to break against the soft
alluvial bottoms which in many places border the sea, the soil would
soon be washed away, and the natives be thus deprived of their most
productive lands. As it is, the banks of no rivulet are firmer.
But the coral barriers answer another purpose. They form all the
harbours of this group, including the twenty-four round about the
shores of Tahiti. Curiously enough, the openings in the reefs, by which
alone vessels enter to their anchorage, are invariably opposite the
mouths of running streams: an advantage fully appreciated by the
mariner who touches for the purpose of watering his ship.
It is said that the fresh water of the land, mixing with the salts held
in solution by the sea, so acts upon the latter as to resist the
formation of the coral; and hence the breaks. Here and there, these
openings are sentinelled, as it were, by little fairy islets, green as
emerald, and waving with palms. Strangely and beautifully diversifying
the long line of breakers, no objects can strike the fancy more
vividly. Pomaree II., with a taste in watering-places truly Tahitian,
selected one of them as a royal retreat. We passed it on our journey.
Omitting several further adventures which befell us after leaving the
party from Loohooloo, we must now hurry on to relate what happened just
before reaching the place of our destination.