A RIVAL’S STRATEGY.
A year passed away, and I was still the guest of Big-Wind, in the valley
of Tivóli. I had carefully kept count of the time, by making a notch on
a tree for every week. The days I recorded by means of seven pebbles,
dropping one into my pocket each morning until the week was ended, and
then beginning again. My wardrobe had long since been hopelessly ruined,
and I was reduced to the comfortable Fijian sulu and turban, but I still
preserved the European luxury of a pocket in the folds of my tapa.
The period of my indulgent captivity had been far from unpleasant to me.
I did not omit to ascend the hills occasionally and scan the horizon for
an English ship, but I had begun to think with less bitterness of having
to pass the remainder of my life among the Fijians. As time wore on it
seemed less and less likely that I should be rescued by some passing
ship, as the only vessels which visited the country at this time went to
Bau, and the Sandalwood coast on the island of Vanua Levu. However, a
change in my circumstances was in store for me which I could not
foresee.
Lolóma was now sixteen years of age, and she was claimed in marriage by
Bent-Axe, to whom she had been affianced almost from her birth. The man
was repulsive; the girl had the greatest possible aversion to him; and
she had given abundant proofs of her attachment to me. Often had she in
conversation with me wished that she lived in the white man’s country,
where, as she expressed it, a girl may wed “the man to whom her spirit
flies.” (She had learned that from me, and I may remark that in speaking
to the savages of the institutions of my own country, I always
represented them as superior to theirs, though sometimes at the
sacrifice of strict accuracy.) I had not the slightest intention of
surrendering her to my rival, who had treated me with ill-will from the
first day of my arrival in the valley, and Lolóma said she would fly
with me to another tribe to which she was vasu,[13] and where we could
live in peace, if I were willing. I was quite willing, in the absence of
any better plan for settling the difficulty, but I preferred defeating
my hated adversary on his own ground. I accordingly made a formal
proposition to Big-Wind for his daughter’s hand. The old king was
pleased, but feared that the customs of his country would make our
marriage an impossibility, as the girl had been publicly pledged to
Bent-Axe, who was his half-brother, and there was no precedent for
breaking such an engagement. I was popular with the inhabitants of the
valley, and knew that if the matter were put to the vote it would be
decided in my favor, as Bent-Axe was universally detested for his cruel
and overbearing disposition. But there was a great difficulty in my way.
Shark, the priest, looked with high disfavor upon some innovations on
native custom I had attempted to introduce, and he knew that I had
spoken disrespectfully of his religion, calling the whole priesthood of
the country impostors. He would naturally strain every nerve to prevent
me from being established with official rank at the court of Big-Wind.
The proposed marriage was made the subject of many grave deliberations
in council. Shark and Bent-Axe exerted all their eloquence against me,
but the chief secretly leaned towards me, and he was importuned in my
behalf by Lolóma, his favorite daughter, and also her mother and
sisters. At length it was decided by straining an abstruse point of
native etiquette, that Bent-Axe had committed an act which nullified the
engagement. The day of the marriage, after many busy preparations in the
village, now arrived. The previous evening the deformed suitor had had
an interview with Lolóma. He had sweetened his breath with the grayish
clay which Fijian swains use to make themselves attractive, and he urged
his cause with all the persuasiveness of which he was capable, but
without avail.
Footnote 13:
A relationship which carries with it remarkable privileges. _Vide_ p.
65.
Marriage in Fiji is a civil contract with which the priest officially
has nothing to do. The customs observed on these occasions, some of
which are very pretty, vary in different parts of the group. The leading
idea, however, is an interchange of presents, a great feast, and a
public acceptance of the woman by the man after the formal presentation.
Popular opinion in the valley of Tivóli was in favor of a full-dress
affair, on the pattern of a grand marriage in the family of King Finau
of Tonga, in regard to which a fabulous account in a metrical form had
gained currency.
The assembled multitude accordingly appeared on the village green in
gala attire. All that paint, powder, oil, and floral decorations could
do for the company, was done. The most striking picture in the group was
old Big-Wind himself, as he advanced, erect on the green sward within
the quadrangular mass of human beings sitting cross-legged, to present
the bride.
His voice, gait, eyes, and dress, not to speak of his tall person and
powerful limbs, singly and together proclaimed his superiority over the
crowd, who, crouching at his feet, clapped their hands and uttered deep
bass groans of salutation in token at once of their recognition of his
high station, of their admiration of his person, and of their loyal
submission to his rule. Rather more than six feet high—without shoes, of
course, and exclusive of the hair which covered his head like a knoll
with tall reed-grass, and which was dressed in the latest and most
artistic style possible to the barbers of highest note—there he stood.
Left cheek, right half of forehead, upper part of nose, and right eye
surroundings deeply vermillioned; other bare portions of the face
painted with lamp-black; lateral and lower features enveloped in bushy
whiskers, beard, and moustache; frill of wild-boar’s tusks about his
neck, making a formidable, defensive _chevaux-de-frise_ for the throat,
as well as a chiefly ornament and emblem of royal courage; ponderous
pine-apple club mounted on right shoulder; aloft, and carried in left
hand over all, a large sunshade made of the leaf of that most beautiful
of palms, the fan-palm; those muscular arms so well able to put forth
destructive might in the hour of battle; a profusely-decorated native
dress fastened round the body with a sash sweeping off behind in a long
train of snow-white gauzy fabric, made by the ladies of his harem—a
subject fit for poet’s verse, and painter’s brush and pallet.
The bride, having previously been anointed with cocoanut oil scented
with sandalwood, was swathed in choice mats of fine texture and masi of
the silkiest softness. She wore so many yards of this material, which
hid her pretty limbs in a shameful way, that she could neither sit down
nor rise up without assistance from her maids. She had on her forehead a
coronet of pearly-white beads, made of the inside of nautilus shells;
there lay on her bosom a necklace composed of the white-scented flowers
of the vasa, and her wrists and upper-arms were decorated with
curiously-wrought shell bracelets and armlets. Her ornaments glimmered
bravely on her brown throat and arms. She stood radiant in the sun—a
gay, glad child of Nature—beautiful as the flushed flower of the
hibiscus as it flames at noon, and fresh as roses washed by rain.
The six bridesmaids were similarly attired, but with less magnificence,
and each was distinguished by a red riband, made of the membrane of a
fine leaf. The lady and her attendants having walked in procession to
the front of the Royal house, which faced one side of the quadrangle,
the King delivered a brief address, at the end of which the first
bridesmaid advanced to cut off the front lock of the bride, the woolly
fringe which is only worn by maidens, when the priest, accompanied by
Bent-Axe, suddenly appeared upon the scene.
“I forbid this marriage in the name of the gods,” said Shark. “Last
night in the temple it was revealed to me that it is not for the good of
the land. Forbear, or fear the just wrath of Dengeh.”
The King demanded an omen in proof of the divine displeasure.
Shark stood up before the people, and in accordance with a practice they
were familiar with, poured a few drops of water on the front of his
right arm near the shoulder. Then, gently inclining his arm, the course
of the water was watched. If it found its way down to the wrist, the god
was favourable to the marriage; if it ran off and fell on the ground,
the decision would be the other way. None of the water reached the
rascal’s wrist, for he had well oiled it for the occasion.
“I fear neither Dengeh nor his priest,” I interposed. “It is a lying
omen. I am not of Shark’s religion, and his priestly oracle cannot
answer for me.”
Big-Wind and his chieftains, after consultation, regarded this objection
to the jurisdiction as a good one, and judgment was given accordingly.
“There is another reason why this marriage cannot proceed,” shouted
Bent-Axe, glaring defiantly at me. “Will the white man maintain that a
chief’s daughter should be given to a leper?”
I laughed aloud. I knew that leprosy was not uncommon in the country,
and elephantiasis was prevalent, but I had never so much as seen a case
of the former disease, and I knew that I was in perfect health.
“Let the papalangi be examined,” continued Bent-Axe. “On his right ankle
you will see the mark of the doomed.”
Then I remembered, with a start, that I had that about me, known only to
Bent-Axe, Lolóma, and myself, which would betray me into the
skilfully-laid trap of this relentless savage. The previous day, in
cutting a kau karo or itch-wood tree, a few drops of the sap, which is
just like scalding water, fell upon my right ankle. I thought nothing of
it, but soon afterwards severe itching pustules arose, and Bent-Axe saw
me bathing the inflamed parts at a streamlet in the evening.
Big-Wind noticed my look of dismay and hesitation, and demanded an
immediate explanation. I related the circumstance and was corroborated
by Lolóma; but the priest examined the marks on my leg, and pronounced
it a well-defined case of leprosy. It was determined that I should
submit to be cured in the Fijian fashion, or that the marriage should
not be consummated.