TAHITI THE ISLAND PARADISE

Transcriber's Note

This book was transcribed from scans of the original found at the
Internet Archive. Variant spellings are not corrected. Some
illustrations are rotated.





TAHITI

THE

ISLAND PARADISE

BY

NICHOLAS SENN, M. D., Ph. D., LL. D., C. M.

Professor of Surgery in the University of Chicago

Professor and Head of the Surgical Department in Rush Medical College

Surgeon-in-Chief of St. Joseph's Hospital

Attending Surgeon of the Presbyterian Hospital

Lieutenant-Colonel and Chief of the Operating Staff with the Army in

the Field during the Spanish-American War

Surgeon-General of Illinois

WITH FIFTY HALF-TONE ILLUSTRATIONS

CHICAGO

W. B. CONKEY COMPANY



COPYRIGHT, 1906,

BY

W. B. CONKEY COMPANY

PREFACE

The far-away little island of Tahiti is the gem of the South Pacific
Ocean. If any place in this world deserves to be called a paradise,
Tahiti can make this claim. This charming spot in the wide expanse of
the peaceful ocean has attractions which we look for in vain anywhere
else. From a distance, the grandeur of its frowning cliffs rivets the
eye, and, in coming nearer, its tropic beauty charms the visitor and
imprints upon his memory pictures single and panoramic that neither
distance nor time can efface. The scenic beauty of this island is
unsurpassed. The calming air, redolent with the perfume of fragrant
flowers of exquisite beauty, on the seashore, in the valleys and on the
precipitous mountain sides; the luxuriant vegetation; the forest
fruit-gardens and the sweet music of the surf remind one of the original
habitation of man. The natives, a childlike people, friendly, courteous
and hospitable, are the happiest people on earth, free from care and
worries which in other less favored parts of the world make life a
drudgery.

Tahiti is the only place in the world where the people are not obliged
to work. The forests furnish bread and fruit and the sea teems with
fish. The climate is so mild that the wearing of clothing is rather a
matter of choice than of necessity, and the bamboo huts that can be made
with little or no expense in half a day with the willing help of the
neighbors, meet all the requirements of a home. The stranger will find
here throughout the year a climate and surroundings admirably adapted to
calm his nervous system and procure repose and sleep.

In writing this little book I have made free use of the "Memoirs of
Arrii Taimai E., Marama of Eimeo, Terii rere of Tooarai, Terii nui of
Tahiti, Tauraatua I Amo" (Paris, 1901). The authoress was the mother of
Tati, one of the most influential present chiefs of Tahiti, and, as her
several titles show, she was of noble birth. She was an eye-witness of
many of the most stirring political events in the history of the island.
Only fifty copies of this book were printed and only three remained in
possession of her son. He was kind enough to give me one of them, which,
after making liberal use of it, I presented to the library of the
University of Chicago, through its late lamented president, Dr. W. R.
Harper. I also acknowledge my indebtedness to the works of Captain Cook,
"A Voyage to the Pacific" (London, 1784), and to the book of Baron Ferd.
von Mueller, "Select Extra-tropical Plants" (Melbourne, 1885).

N. Senn.

Chicago, 1906.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

    -   PREFACE
    -   TAHITI THE ISLAND PARADISE
    -   THE ISLAND OF TAHITI
    -   OCEAN VOYAGE
    -   THE ATOLL ISLANDS
    -   THE LANDING AT PAPEETE
    -   THE CITY OF PAPEETE
    -   TOPOGRAPHY OF THE ISLAND
    -   THE CLIMATE
    -   HISTORY OF THE ISLAND
    -   POMARE, THE ROYAL FAMILY OF TAHITI
    -   MISSIONARY RULE
    -   WARS BETWEEN PROTESTANT AND CATHOLIC MISSIONARIES
    -   THE LAST WAR
    -   THE NATIVES
    -   FOREIGNERS IN TAHITI
    -   BUSINESS IN TAHITI
    -   OLD TAHITI
    -   RELIGION OF THE NATIVES
    -   THE INSIGNIA OF TAHITIAN ROYALTY
    -   DISEASES OF TAHITI
    -   PRESENT PREVAILING DISEASES
    -   THE KAHUNA OR NATIVE DOCTOR
    -   PHYSICIANS IN TAHITI
    -   HÔPITAL MILITAIRE
    -   THE ISLAND OF PLENTY
    -   TAHITI'S NATURAL BREAD SUPPLY
    -   THE COCOANUT, THE MEAT OF THE TAHITIANS
    -   THE COCOA-PALM
    -   THE FORESTS OF TAHITI
    -   NOTED FOREST TREES OF TAHITI
    -   VANILLA CULTIVATION IN TAHITI
    -   THE RURAL DISTRICTS
    -   POINT VENUS
    -   FAUTAHUA VALLEY
    -   VILLAGE OF PAPARA
    -   IORANA!
    -   ADDENDA
    -   THE STORY OF ARIITAIMAI OF TAHITI

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

-   The Royal Family
-   Harbor and Principal Port of Papeete
-   Lighthouse, and Cook Monument at Haapape
-   King Pomare V
-   Pomare IV
-   View of Moorea
-   Tahiti from the Harbor of Papeete
-   In the Shadow of the Palm Forest
-   The S. S. "Mariposa" Leaving the Harbor of Papeete
-   Royal Palace (Headquarters of the Governor)
-   Avenue of Purranuia, Papeete
-   Native Village by the Sea
-   Native Hut close by the Sea
-   Prince Hinoi
-   A Tahitian Home
-   Tahitian Bamboo House
-   Tomb of the Last King of Tahiti, Pomare V
-   Tahitian Women in Ancient Native Dress
-   Tahiti Girls in Native Dress
-   A Group of Native Girls
-   Native Girl in Modern Dress
-   Tahitian Ladies in Zulu Dress
-   Native Musicians and Native Dance
-   Tahitian Girl in Native Festive Dress
-   At Home
-   A Home by the Sea — Raiatea
-   Fisherman's Home
-   Native Settlement
-   Group of Tahitian Children
-   A Case of Far-Advanced Leprosy Affecting All Limbs
-   A Leper of Tahiti
-   Military Hospital in Papeete
-   Tahitian Fruit Vender
-   Preparing Breadfruit
-   Sapodilla
-   Copra Establishment
-   Government Wharf — Papeete
-   Corner in Papeete
-   A View of Fautahua Valley
-   Avenue of Fautahua
-   Cascade of Fautahua
-   Bridge across Fautahua near Waterfall
-   Lagoon and Reef on the Ninety-Mile Road
-   On the Ninety-Mile Road
-   Fishermen of Papeete
-   Tahitian Canoe with Outrigger
-   Two Papaya Trees
-   Picking Cocoanuts
-   Alligator Pear Tree
-   Ancient Masked Warriors



TAHITI THE ISLAND PARADISE

When the Almighty Architect of the universe created the earth we
inhabit, He manifested His wisdom, goodness and foresight in adapting,
in a most admirable manner, the soil, climate, and animal and vegetable
life for the habitation of man, the supreme work of creation. By the
gradual and progressive geographical distribution of man over the
surface of the earth, he has become habituated to diverse climates and
environments, and has found conditions most congenial to his comfort and
the immediate necessities of life.

  In cold, laborious climes, the wintry North

  Brings her undaunted, hardy warriors forth,

  In body and in mind untaught to yield,

  Stubborn of soul, and steady in the field;

  While Asia's softer climate, form'd to please.

  Dissolves her sons in indolence and ease.

  LUCANUS.

It required centuries for the Esquimau to become acclimated to the
inhospitable polar regions, and make them his favorite abode; the people
who drifted toward the equator gradually became inured to the climate of
the tropics and accustomed to the manner of living in countries where
the perennial heat paralyzes the physical and mental energies, and
undermines the health of strangers coming from a more temperate climate.
Nature has made ample provision for man in all habitable parts of the
earth. The regions of ice and snow are inhabited by fur-bearing animals,
and, at certain seasons of the year, are frequented by a large variety
of aquatic birds in great abundance, which supply the natives with food
and clothing, while in the tropics, man has little or no need of fuel
and clothing, and, with very little exertion, he can subsist on the
fruits of the forests, and on the food so liberally supplied by the sea.

The intensity of the struggle for life increases with the distance north
and south from the temperate zones, where climatic conditions
necessitate active exercise and where the necessities of life can only
be obtained by the hardest kind of labor. The climate of the tropics, on
the other hand, is very generous to man. The forests are rich in fruit
yielding trees which Nature plants, which receive little or no care, yet
which bear fruit throughout the year. Wherever the cocoa-palm grows in
abundance, there can be no famine, because this tree yields a rich
harvest of nutritious fruit from one end of the year to the other
without fail, as it is never affected to any considerable extent by
drouth and other conditions which so often bring failure to the orchards
in more temperate climates. The continuous summer and the wonderful
fertility of the soil in tropic and subtropic countries reward richly
the labor of the husbandman by two and sometimes three harvests a year,
as nature's forces require no rest, no slumber there.

Life in a changeable, severe climate is full of hardships; in the
tropics, of ease and leisure. The nearer we come to the tropics, the
closer we approach the conditions of primitive man. The necessities of
life increase as we recede on either side of the equatorial line. The
dreamy, easy, care-free life in the tropics is in strong contrast with
the severe and arduous struggles for existence in countries less favored
by the resources of nature.

Among the trees in the Garden of Eden, the palm tree was undoubtedly the
most beautiful, and it remains to-day the queen of the forests of the
seacoast in the tropics. The palm-clad isles of the South Sea bear a
closer resemblance to the description of the Garden of Eden than any
other of the many parts of the world that I have ever seen; and of
these, Tahiti is a real paradise on earth. There is no country nor other
isle where Nature has been so liberal in the distribution of her gifts.
No other island can compare in natural beauty with Tahiti, the gem of
the South Pacific Ocean. It is the island where life is free of care. It
is the island where the natives are fed, clothed and housed by nature.
It is the island where man is born, eats his daily bread without being
forced to labor, sleeps and dreams away his life free from worry, and
enjoys the foretaste of the eternal paradise before he dies. It is the
island which must have been born

  In the morning of the world,

  When earth was nigher heaven than now.

  BROWNING.

It is the island of which the poet must have been musing when he wrote:

  Amid an isle around whose rocky shore

  The forests murmur and the surges roar,

  A goddess guards in her enchanted dome.

  POPE.

THE ISLAND OF TAHITI

About three thousand six hundred miles south by southwest from San
Francisco are the Society Islands, a small archipelago in the South
Pacific Ocean, in latitude 16 to 18 degrees south, longitude 148 to 155
degrees west. Captain Cook named this group in honor of the Royal
Society of London. The largest two of these islands, Tahiti and Moorea,
are of volcanic origin, mountainous and heavily timbered; the remaining
islands are small, low, of coral origin, and are called atolls. In
approaching the archipelago from San Francisco, a few of these
palm-fringed atoll islands come first into view, forming a pleasing
foreground to the rugged mountains of Tahiti and its smaller neighbor,
Moorea, which are sighted almost at the same time. After a voyage over
the desert ocean of thirteen days (all this time out of sight of land),
to gaze on the most beautiful islands of this group is a source of
exquisite pleasure.

  Sea-girt isles,

  That like to rich and various gems, inlay

  The unadorned bosom of the deep.

  MILTON.

The South Pacific Ocean is the natural home of the coral polyps, which
are great island-builders, using the volcanic material as a foundation
for the coral superstructure. As these minute builders can live only in
shallow water, they use submerged mountain peaks for their foundations,
converting them into low atolls, and building reefs around the base of
the high volcanic islands. Most of the Society Islands are of coral
formation perched upon submerged mountain summits. The island of Tahiti
is small, of little commercial interest, and hence it is comparatively
unknown to the masses of the people. Very few who left the schoolroom
twenty-five years ago would be able to locate it without consulting a
geography, and many have even forgotten the name. The children fresh
from school recall it in connection with the difficulty they encountered
in finding the little dot in the great, trackless South Pacific Ocean,
surrounded by a group of still smaller specks, representing the
remainder of the little archipelago to which it belongs.

Tahiti is nearly four thousand miles distant from San Francisco, in a
southwesterly direction, below the equator, in latitude 17, hence in a
similar latitude to that of the Hawaiian Islands, which are situated
about the same distance north of the equator.



I had heard much of the natural beauty of this far-off island and its
interesting inhabitants, and decided to spend my midwinter vacation in
1904 in paying it a visit. Formerly the passage from San Francisco had
to be made by a schooner, and required several months. For the last four
years the island has been made readily accessible by a regular steamer
service. The staunch steamer, _Mariposa_, of the Oceanic Steamship Company
of San Francisco, sails from that port every thirty-six days, makes the
trip in twelve or thirteen days, and remains at Papeete, the capital of
the island, four days, which give the visitor ample time to visit the
most interesting points and make the desired observations. The track of
the steamer is over that part of the Pacific Ocean which is
comparatively free from violent storms, between the storm centers east
and west from it. The prevailing trade-winds cool off the tropical heat
in the vicinity of the equator, rendering the voyage at all seasons of
the year a pleasant one. The steamer has a tonnage of three thousand
tons, the service is excellent, and the table all that could be desired.
I know of no better way to spend a short mid-winter vacation than a trip
to Tahiti, the island paradise, the most interesting and beautiful of
all islands.

January and February are the months when the fruit is most abundant, and
the climate most agreeable. The twenty-five days of voyage on the ocean,
the few days on shore occupied by a study of its natives, their customs,
manner of living, by visits to the various points of historic interest,
and by the greatest of all genuine pleasures, the contemplation of
nature's choicest exhibitions in the tropics, are all admirably adapted
to procure physical rest and pleasure, and pleasing as well as
profitable mental occupation. A trip to Tahiti will prove of particular
benefit to those who are in need of mental rest. The absence of anything
like severe storms on this trip should be a special inducement, for
those who are subject to seasickness, to travel there.

The steamer is well adapted for service in the tropics, the cabins are
roomy and comfortable. Capt. J. Rennie is one of the most experienced
commanders of the fleet, a good disciplinarian and devoted to the safety
and comfort of his passengers. While the steamer can accommodate seventy
cabin passengers, the number seldom exceeds twenty-five. The tourist
therefore escapes crowding and noise, so trying to the nerves, and so
common on the transatlantic steamers and other more frequented ocean
routes.

OCEAN VOYAGE

The steamer _Mariposa_ leaves the San Francisco wharf at eleven o'clock 
a.m.,—an excellent time for the passengers to enjoy the beauties of the
bay and the Golden Gate, to see the rugged coast of California gradually
disappear in the distance during the course of the afternoon, and to
prepare himself for the first night's sleep in the cradle of the deep.
The second day out, and until the mountains of Tahiti come in sight, the
traveler will see nothing but the floating tavern in which he lives, its
inmates, the inky blue ocean, the sky, clouds, and, occasionally,
sea-gulls, and isolated schools of flying fish. The steamer's track is
over an unfrequented part of the ocean. The passenger looks in vain for
a mast or white-winged sails, or puffs of smoke in the distance, sights
so often seen on more frequented ocean highways. The steamer crosses an
ocean desert little known, but out of reach of the violent storms, so
frequent near the coasts, on both sides free from reefs and rocks, as
this part of the ocean is of unusual depth, amounting in many places to
three miles. Stranding of the vessel, or collision with others, the
greatest dangers incident to sea travel, are therefore reduced to a
minimum on this route. Although this course is an unusually lonely one,
the interested observer will find much to see and enjoy. The vast
expanse of the ocean impresses the traveler from day to day and grows
upon him as the distance from the coast increases.

  Illimitable ocean! without bound,

  Without dimensions, where length, breadth, and height,

  And time, and place, are lost

  MILTON.

The boundless ocean desert, mirror-like when at rest, clothed by gentle
ripples and ceaseless wavelets when fanned by the trade-winds, is a
picture of peace and contentment.

  The winds with wonder whist,

  Smoothly the waters kiss'd,

  Whispering new joys to the mild ocean.

  MILTON.

But even here in the most peaceful part of the Pacific, when angered by
the fury of a heavy squall, a diminutive storm agitates the waters into
foam-crested waves, which, for a short time at least, impart to the ship
an intoxicated gait. The effect of sun, moon and starlight on the
smooth, undulating, heaving, billowing, tossing, storm-beaten surface of
the ocean, is marvelous. When all is quiet, and the passenger is only
conscious of the vibratory movements imparted to the ship by the
ceaseless action of the faithful screw, and the lights of heaven are
veiled by a curtain of dark clouds, the beautiful blue gives way to a
sombre black. When the tropic sun shines with all his force, the color
of the water fairly vies with the deep blue of the sky, and the nearer
we approach our destination, the tints of blue grow deeper and deeper,
until at last they are of perfect indigo.



The moon and starlight have a magic effect on the surface of the water.
The long evenings give the passengers the exquisite pleasure of watching
the journey of the moon across the starlit heavenly dome, growing, night
after night, from a mere sickle to her full majestic size, and of
observing the effects of the gradually increasing intensity of the light
issuing from the welcome visitor of the night, on the glassy mirror of
water beneath. The star-bedecked pale dome of the tropic sky is, in
itself, a picture that rivets the attention of the traveler who loves
and studies the book of nature. The short twilight over, "these blessed
candles of the night" (Shakespeare) are lighted, and send their feeble
light down upon the bosom of the ocean.

If the sky is clear, the illuminating power of the moon at its best, and
the ocean calm, its surface is transformed into a boundless sheet of
silver. This magic effect of moonlight on the surface of the sleeping
ocean is magnified by passing fleecy, or dark, storm-threatening clouds.
The fleeting, fleecy clouds often veil, only in part, the lovely, full
face of the moon, and through fissures, the rays of light issue, and,
falling upon the water, are reflected in the form of silvery patches or
pathways, corresponding in size and outline with the temporary window in
the passing cloud. It is when the moon is about to be hidden behind a
dark, impenetrable veil that the spectator may expect to see the most
wonderful display of pictures above and around him. As the cloud
approaches the moon, the blue background deepens in color and brilliancy
and when its dark margin touches the rim of the moon it is changed into
a fringe of gold or silver; with the disappearance of the moon behind
the cloud the fringe of the latter is rudely torn away, the water
beneath is robbed of its carpet of silver, and the captivated observer
is made aware that the darkness of night is upon him. But the gloom is
of short duration. A break in the cloud serves as a window through which
the moon peeps down, with a most bewitching grace, upon the dark surface
beneath. The prelude to this exhibition appears on the side of the
temporary frame, in the form of a silver lining which broadens with the
moving cloud; now the rim of the moon comes into view; slowly, the veil
is completely thrown aside, and Luna's calm, pale, smiling, full face
makes its appearance, enclosed in a dark frame with silver margins,
while, more than likely, she will be attended by a few brilliant stars,
thus completing the charms and beauty of the picture suspended from the
heavenly dome. All genuine pleasures of this world are of short
duration; so with this nocturnal picture painted on the clouds and
water. The silver rim on one side of the frame of clouds disappears, the
dark margin increases in width, the moon is obscured, and only a few
flickering stars remain fixed in the picture.

  Surely there is something in the unruffled calm of nature that
  overcomes our little anxieties and doubts: the sight of the deep blue
  sky, and the clustering stars above, seem to impart a quiet to the
  mind.

  JONATHAN EDWARDS.

In midocean is the place to view at greatest advantage the gorgeous
sunrise and sunset of the tropics. To see the sun disappear in the
distance, where the dome of the sky seems to rest on the bosom of the
ocean, is a scene which no pen can describe, and which no artist's brush
has ever reproduced in any degree comparable with the grand reality. The
canvas of the sky behind the setting glowing orb, and the passing clouds
in front, above, and beneath it, are painted successively by the
invisible brush in the unseen hands of the departing artist in colors
and shades of colors that may well laugh to scorn any and all attempts
at description or reproduction. The gilded horizon serves as a fitting
background for the retreating monarch of the day, and the slowly moving
canvas of clouds transmits his last messages in all the hues of red,
crimson, pink, and yellow. To observe this immense panorama stretched
from north to south, and projected toward the east, resting on the
silvery surface of the rippling ocean, with the ever-varying colors of
the slowly moving clouds, as seen evening after evening on the Tahitian
trip, leaves impressions which time can not erase from memory.

Night on board the _Mariposa_ has additional attractions for the
passengers who appreciate the wonders and beauties of nature. When the
night is dark, they find a place in the stern of the ship, lean against
the taffrail, and watch the water agitated into a diminutive storm by
the powerful screw. There one beholds a sight sufficiently attractive
and interesting to keep him spellbound for an hour or more. The
indolent, phosphorescent sea-amoeba has been roused into action by the
merciless revolutions of the motor of the ship, and emits its diamond
sparks of phosphorescent light. Thousands of these little beings
discharge their magic light in the white veil of foam which adorns the
crests of the storm-beaten surface, in the form of a narrow track as far
as the eye can reach in the darkness of the night. The flashes of light
thrown off by these minute, to the naked eye invisible, inhabitants of
the sea, when angered by the rude action of the screw, appear and
disappear in the twinkling of an eye. When these tiny, light-producing
animals are numerous, as is the case in the equatorial region, the
snow-white veil of foam is richly decorated with diamond sparks which,
when they coalesce, form flames of fire in the track of the vessel.



The ocean voyage has occasionally still another surprise in store for
the traveler when he reaches the South Pacific. A squall is a tempest on
a small scale. We see in the distance a dark cloud of immense size which
seems to ride slowly over the surface of the smooth sea. The gentle
breeze gives way to a strong wind, the surface of the water becomes
ruffled with whitecaps, the darkness increases, and at irregular
intervals the threatening, angry cloud is lighted up by chains of
lightning thrown in all possible directions; these flashes are followed
by peals of thunder, and by prolonged rumbling, which becomes feebler
and feebler, and finally dies away far out on the surface of the ocean.
The steamer penetrates the storm area. Darkness prevails. Gigantic drops
of rain strike the deck and patter upon the canvas awning, the
harbingers of a drenching rain.

  And now the thick'ned sky

  Like a dark ceiling stood; down rush'd the rain impetuous.

  MILTON.

The cloud and darkness are left behind, and a clear sky and smooth sea
ahead greet the passengers. Did you ever see a rainbow at midnight? Such
an unusual nocturnal spectral phenomenon greeted us in midocean: the
full moon in the east, the delicate rainbow in its infinite colors
painted on the clouds in the west. Our captain, who had lived on the
tropic sea for a quarter of a century, had never seen the like before.
It was reserved for us to see a rainbow painted by the moon. With such
pleasant diversions, by day and by night, we soon forget the ocean
desert, and yet on the last day of the voyage we welcome the sight of
land.

  Be of good cheer, I see land.

  DIOGENES.

The vastness of the ocean and the smallness of Tahiti are in strange
contrast. How the mariner, in setting the compass on leaving the harbor
of San Francisco, can so unerringly find this little speck in the ocean
nearly four thousand miles away, is an accomplishment which no one, not
versed in the science of navigation can fully comprehend. We sighted
Tahiti during the early part of the forenoon. The peaks of the two
highest mountains in Tahiti, Oroheua and Aorii, seven to eight thousand
feet in height, projected spectre-like from the surface of the ocean.
These peaks appeared as bare, sharp, conical points in the clear sky
above a mantle of clouds which enveloped the balance of the island. This
misty draping of the two highest mountains takes place almost every day,
as the clouds are attracted by the constant moisture of the soil, due to
the dense forests and luxuriant tropical vegetation.

The next sight of land brought into view the rugged mountains of Moorea
and a group of small atoll islands. Moorea is in plain view from
Papeete, and is the second largest of the Society Islands. Before we
look at Tahiti at close range, let us examine the group of atoll islands
which the steamer passes close enough to give us a good idea of their
formation.

THE ATOLL ISLANDS

The atoll islands, so numerous in the South Seas, have a uniform
conformation, and are of coral, deposited upon submerged summits of
mountains of volcanic origin. The floor of the Pacific, like many other
parts of the earth's surface, is undergoing constant changes, increasing
or diminishing its level. Here and there, at certain intervals, volcanic
eruptions have created mountains, which, in Hawaii, rise to nearly
fourteen thousand and, in Tahiti, to over seven thousand feet. Around
each of these innumerable islands and islets in the great Pacific Ocean
the coral polyps have a fringing reef of rock. As these minute creatures
can live only at a depth of twenty to thirty fathoms, and die as soon as
exposed to the air, their life-work is confined to the coast of volcanic
islands. Whenever, as it often happened, the island upon which they had
congregated was slowly sinking, they would elevate their wall to save
themselves from death in deep water. It is evident that if this process
continued long enough, the land would entirely disappear and leave a
submerged circular wall of coral just below the level of the low tide.
The effects of the waves in breaking off the coral formation, large and
small, in elevating them, would, in course of time, produce a ring of
sandy beach, rising above the sea surrounding the central basin, filled
with salt water entering through one or many open channels. Upon the
beach, cocoanuts, washed ashore, would find a favorable soil for
germination, and, ere long, stately palms would fringe the rim of the
enclosed lagoon. Every atoll island has a peripheral fringe of
cocoa-palms and a central lagoon which communicates with the ocean by
one or more channels. Such an island is an atoll, the final stage in the
disappearance of a volcanic islet from the surface of the sea. Such
islands are numerous in the Society Islands, and the Paumotuan
Archipelago consists exclusively of such atoll islands.



It is interesting to know how these minute coral polyps manage their
work of island-building, or, rather, island-preservation. Coral
formation is a calcareous secretion or deposit of many kinds of
zoöphytes of the class Anthozoa, which assumes infinite and often
beautiful forms, according to the different laws which govern the manner
of germination of the polyps of various species. The coral-producing
zoöphytes are compound animals, which multiply in the very swiftest
manner, by germination or budding, young polyp buds springing from the
original polyp, sometimes indifferently from any part of its surface,
sometimes only from its upper circumference or from its base, and not
separating from it, but remaining in the same spot when the original
parent or polyp is dead, and producing buds in their turn. The
reproductive capacity of these polyps is marvelous and explains the
greatness of their work in building up whole islands and the countless
submerged reefs so much dreaded by the mariners of the South Seas. The
calcareous deposition begins when the zoöphytes are still simple polyps,
owing their existence to oviparous reproduction, adhering to a rock or
other substance, to which the calcareous material becomes attached, and
on which the coral is built up, the hard deposits of past generations
forming the base to which those of the progeny are attracted. The coral
formation takes place with astonishing rapidity; under favorable
circumstances, masses of coral have been found to increase in height
several feet in a few months, and a channel cut in a reef surrounding a
coral island, to permit the passage of a schooner, has been blocked with
coral in ten years. Coral formations have been found immediately
attached to the land, whilst in many other cases the reef surrounds the
island, the intervening space, of irregular, but nowhere of great width,
forming a lagoon or channel of deep water, protected by the reef from
wind and waves. According to Darwin, this kind of reef is formed from a
reef of the former merely fringing kind, by the gradual subsidence of
the rocky basis, carrying down the fringe of coral to a greater depth;
whilst the greatest activity of life is displayed by polyps of the kind
most productive of large masses of coral in the outer parts which are
most exposed to the waves. In this manner he also accounts for the
formation of true coral islands, or atolls, which consist merely of a
narrow reef of coral surrounding a central lagoon, and very often of a
reef, perhaps half a mile in breadth, clothed with luxuriant vegetation
and the never-absent cocoa-palms, bordered by a narrow beach of snowy
whiteness, and forming an arc, the convexity of which is toward the
prevailing wind, whilst a straight line of reef not generally rising
above the reach of the tide, forms the chord of the arc. The reef is
generally intersected by a narrow channel into the enclosed lagoon, the
waters of which are still and beautifully transparent, teeming with the
greatest variety of fish. Its surface is enlivened by water-fowl, and
the depth of water close to the precipitous sides of the reef is almost
always very great. The channels are kept open by the flux and reflux of
the tide, the current and waves of which are often so swift and high as
to become a menace to schooners attempting entrance into the lagoon. On
the beach, soil most conducive to the growth of cocoanut-palms is formed
by accumulation of sand, shells, fragments of coral, seaweeds, decayed
leaves, etc. The giant cocoanuts planted in this soil either by the hand
of man or by the waves washing them ashore, germinate quickly, and in a
few years the narrow circular strip of land enclosing the lagoon is
fringed with colonnades of tall fruit-bearing palms. These islands rise
nowhere more than a few feet above the level of the sea. Sometimes the
upheaval of coral formation by volcanic action results in the making of
a real island, in which event the lagoon disappears. Islands with such
an origin sometimes rise to a height of five hundred feet and often
exhibit precipitous cliffs and contain extensive caves. I had read a
description of the Paumotu atoll islands by Stevenson, and consequently
I was much interested in the little group of atolls we passed before
coming into full view of Tahiti. As these islands, like all true atolls,
are only a few feet above the level of the sea, they can not be seen
from the sea at anything like a great distance. When they were pointed
out to us by an officer of the steamer, we could see no land; they
appeared like oases in the desert, green patches in the ocean, due to
the cocoa-palms which guarded their shores. As we came nearer, we could
make out the rim of land and the snow-white coral beach. The smallest of
these atoll islands are not inhabited, but regular visits are made to
them in a small schooner or native double canoe to harvest and bring to
market the never-failing crops of cocoanuts.



THE LANDING AT PAPEETE

As we left the atolls behind us and neared Tahiti, we could see more
clearly the outlines of the rugged island, disrobed, by this time, of
its vestments of clouds. From a distance, the carpet of green which
extends from its base to near the summit of the highest peaks is varied
here and there by patches of red volcanic earth, thus adding to the
picturesqueness of the scene. What at first appears as a greensward on
the shore, on nearer view discloses itself as a broad fringe of
cocoa-palms, extending from the edge of the ocean to the foot of the
mountains, and from there well up on their slopes, where they are lost
in the primeval forest. Above the tree-line, low shrubs and hardy
grasses compose the verdure up to the bare, brown mountain-peaks. The
largest trees are seen in the mountains' deep ravines, which are cut out
of the side of the heights by gushing of cold, clear waters, which drain
the very heart of the mountains, bounding and leaping over boulders and
rapids in their race to a resting-place in the near-by calm waters of
the lagoon. As we came nearer to the island we were able to make out the
white lighthouse on Point Venus, seven miles from Papeete. Here, Captain
Cook, during one of his visits to the island, was stationed for a
considerable length of time for the purpose of observing the transit of
Venus; hence the name of the point.

Near the harbor, a native pilot came on board, and, by careful
maneuvering, safely guided the ship through the very narrow channel in
the reef into the harbor, with the tricolor flying from the top mast.
From the harbor, the little city of Papeete and the island present an
inspiring view. A charming islet on the left as we enter the harbor,
looks like an emerald set in the blue water. It serves as a quarantine
station, and the little snow-white buildings upon it appear like toy
houses. The small city is spread out among cocoa-palms, ornamental and
shade trees. The green of the foliage of these trees is continuous with
the forest-clad mountains which form the background of the beautiful
plateau on which the city is built. The harbor of Papeete is land and
reef-locked, small, but deep enough to float the largest steamers plying
in the Pacific Ocean. As the steamer came up slowly to the wharf,
hundreds of people, a strange mixture of natives, half-castes, Europeans
and Chinese, old and young, dressed in clothes of all imaginable colors,
red being by far the most predominant, crowded the dock. Many of the
children were naked, and not a few of the men and boys were unencumbered
by clothing, with the exception of the typical, much checkered Tahitian
cotton loin-cloth. A number of handsome carriages brought the élite of
the city to take part in this most important of all monthly events.

  They come to see; they come to be seen.

  OVIDIUS.

Custom-house officers, uniformed native policemen, government officials,
French soldiers and merchants, mingled with the dusky natives and
contributed much to the uniqueness of the landing-scene. The dense,
motley crowd was anxious to see and be seen, but was orderly and well
behaved. The custom-house officers were accommodating and courteous, and
passed our hand-baggage without inspection. On the wharf was a small
mountain of cocoanuts, in readiness to be loaded as a part of the return
cargo of the _Mariposa_.

THE CITY OF PAPEETE

Papeete is the capital of Tahiti, the seat of government of the entire
archipelago, and the principal commercial city of the French possessions
in Oceanica. It is a typical city of the South Sea world, as it is
viewed from the deck of the steamer and while walking or riding along
its narrow, crooked streets. From the harbor, little can be seen of its
buildings, except the spire of the cathedral and the low steeples of two
Protestant churches, the low tower of the governor's palace, formerly
the home of royalty, the military hospital, the wharf, and a few
business houses loosely scattered along the principal street, the Quai
du Commerce that skirts the harbor. The residence part of the city is
hidden behind towering cocoa-palms and magnificent shade-trees among
which the flamboyant (burau) trees are the most beautiful. It is
situated on a low plateau with a background of forest-clad mountains,
the beautiful little harbor, the spray-covered coral reef, the vast
ocean and the picturesque outlines of Moorea in front of it.



Papeete has no sidewalks. The streets are narrow, irregularly laid out,
and none of them paved. Most of the houses are one-story frame
buildings, covered with corrugated iron roofs. There are only two or
three large stores; the remaining business-places are small shops, many
of them owned and managed by Chinamen. The present population, made up
of natives of all tints, from a light chocolate to nearly white, six to
eight hundred whites and about three hundred Chinese, numbers in the
neighborhood of five thousand, nearly half of the population of the
entire island. There are about five hundred Chinese in the island, who,
by their industry and knowledge of business methods, have become
formidable competitors of the merchants from other foreign countries.
Their small shops and coffee-houses in Papeete and the country districts
are well patronized by the natives.

Papeete is the commercial center of Oceanica. There are no department
stores there. Business is specialized more there than perhaps in any
other city. All of the shops, even the largest, look small in the eyes
of Americans. There are dry goods stores, grocery stores, millinery
shops, two small frame hotels, the Hotel Francais and another smaller
one, both on the Quai, a few boarding-houses, two saloons, and no bank.
The scarcity of saloons can be explained by the fact that the natives
are temperate in their habits. According to a law enforced by the
government, the native women are prohibited from frequenting such
places.

The public wash-basin, supplied with running fresh water from a mountain
stream, is a sight worth seeing. From a dozen to twenty native women,
and a few soldiers, may be found here almost any time of the day,
paddling knee-deep in the water, using stones in place of washboards in
performing their arduous work. This primitive way of washing gives
excellent results, judging from the snow-white, spotless linen garments
worn by the Europeans and well-to-do natives.

The little plaza or square in the center of the city is used as a
market-place where natives congregate at five o'clock in the morning, to
make their modest purchases of fish, plantain, pineapple, melon or
preserved shrimp done up in joints of bamboo. This is the place to learn
what the islanders produce, sell and buy.

The public buildings are well adapted for a tropic climate. The most
important of these is the palace of the last of the Tahitian kings, now
used as the office of the government. It is a handsome white building,
surrounded by ample grounds well laid out, and beautified by trees,
shrubs and flowers. The government schoolhouse is an enormous frame
building, resting upon posts, several feet from the ground, with more
than one-half of its walls taken up by arched windows, the best lighted
and most thoroughly ventilated building in the city, an ideal
schoolhouse for the tropics. Among the churches of different
denominations, the Catholic cathedral is the largest and best, although
in the States it would not be considered an ornament for a small country
village.

The city is well supplied with pure water from a mountain stream, but
lacks a system of sewerage. The gardens and grounds of the best
residences of the foreigners present an exquisite display of flowers
that flourish best in the tropic soil, under the invigorating rays of
the tropic sun, and the soothing effects of the frequent showers of
rain, which are not limited to any particular season of the year.

Papeete, like all cities in the equatorial region, is a city of supreme
idleness and freedom from care. The citizens can not comprehend that
"The great principle of human satisfaction is engagement" (Paley). This
idleness is inherent in the natives, and under the climatic conditions,
and I suppose to a certain extent by suggestion, is soon acquired by the
foreigners. Contentment and absence of anxiety characterize the life of
the Tahitian. He has no desire to accumulate wealth; he is satisfied
with little. He is "shut up in measureless content" (Shakespeare); he is
inspired with the good idea that "he that maketh haste to be rich, shall
not be innocent" (Proverb xxviii: 20). The merchants open their shops at
sunrise, lock the doors at ten, retire to their homes for breakfast,
take their two-hour siesta, return to their business, suspend work at
five, and the remainder of the day and the entire evening are devoted to
rest, social visits and divers amusements. The social center of the
foreigners is the Cercle Bougainville, a small frame building which
serves the purpose of a club house. Bicycling is a favorite means of
travel and sport for the Europeans as well as the natives of all
classes. This vehicle has found its way not only into the capital city
but also into the country districts throughout the island. The splendid
macadamized road which encircles the island furnishes a great inducement
for this sport. Two of the wealthiest citizens travel the principal
streets in the city and the ninety-mile drive in the most modern fashion
by riding an automobile.

There are few if any door locks in private residences, hotels and
boarding-houses, the best possible proof that the inhabitants are
law-abiding citizens. In the boarding-house in which I lived, the main
entrance was left wide open during the night, and none of the door locks
was supplied with a key. The native women wear Mother Hubbard gowns of
bright calico; the better class of men dress in European fashion, while
the laborers and men from the country districts wear a pareu
(loin-cloth) of bright calico, with or without an undershirt. The
average Tahitian does not believe in:

  We are captivated by dress.

  OVIDIUS.



TOPOGRAPHY OF THE ISLAND

  Into the silent land!

  Ah, who shall lead us thither?

  VON SALIS.

There is no spot on earth more free from care, worry and unrest than the
island of Tahiti. The abundance with which nature here has provided for
the wants of man, the uniform soothing climate, the calmness of the
Pacific Ocean, the pleasing scenery quiet the nerves, induce sleep and
reduce to a minimum the efforts of man in the struggle for life. It is
the island of peace, contentment and rest, a paradise on earth.

No writer has ever done justice to the natural beauties of this gem of
the South Seas. The towering mountains, the tropical forests, the
numerous rippling streams of crystal water, shaded dark ravines, the
palm-fringed shore, the lagoons with their quiet, peaceful, clear waters
painted in most exquisite colors of all shades of green, blue and salmon
by the magic influence of the tropical sun, their outside wall of coral
reef ceaselessly kissed by the caressing, foaming, moaning surf, the
near-by picturesque island of Moorea, with its precipitous mountains
rising from the deep bed of the sea, the flat basin-like, palm-fringed
atolls in the distance, and the vast ocean beyond, make up a combination
of pictures of which the mind never tires, and which engrave themselves
indelibly on the tablet of memory.

Tahiti is a typical mountain island, protected against the aggressive
ocean by a coral reef which forms almost a complete wall around it,
enclosing lagoons of much beauty, which teem with a great variety of
fish. It is thirty-five miles in length, and on an average twelve miles
in breadth. It is shaped somewhat in the form of an hourglass, the
narrow part at Isthmus Terrawow. The circuit of the island by following
the coast is less than one hundred and twenty miles. The ninety-mile
drive which engirdles the island cuts off some of the irregular
projections into the sea. The interior is very mountainous and cut into
ravines so deep that it has never been inhabited to any extent. The
highest peaks are Orohena and Aorii, from seven to eight thousand feet
in height, the former cleft into two points of rock which are often
draped with dark masses of tropic clouds. Numerous other peaks of lesser
magnitude are crowded together in the center of the island, their broad
foundations encroaching upon the plain. The people live on the narrow
strip of low land at the base of the mountains and running down to the
shore, where the soil is exceedingly fertile and always well watered by
numerous rivers, brooks and rivulets. Numberless cascades can be seen
from the ninety-mile drive, leaping over cliffs and appearing like
silver threads in the dark green of the mountain-sides. The strip of
arable land at the base of the mountains varies in width from the bare
precipitous cliffs, without even a beach, to one, or perhaps in the
widest places, two miles. The larger streams have cut out a few broader
valleys. It is this narrow strip of land which is inhabited, the little
villages being usually located near the mouth of a river on the
coast-line, insuring for the inhabitants a pure water-supply and
facilities for fresh-water bathing, a frequent and pleasant pastime for
the natives of both sexes and all ages.

Wherever there is sufficient depth of soil, vegetation is rampant. The
fertility of the soil and the stimulating effect of constant moisture on
vegetable life are best seen by the vitality exhibited by the
fence-posts. I have seen fence-posts a foot and more in circumference,
after being implanted in the soil, strike root, sprout and develop into
trees of no small size. The mountains, and more especially the ravines,
are heavily timbered. There is no place on earth where the scenery is
more beautiful and sublime than at many points along the ninety-mile
drive. The lofty mountains, the fertile plain, the many rivers, brooks,
rivulets and glimpses of foaming cascades, lagoons, of the surf beating
the coral reef in the distance, the limitless ocean beyond, the
luxuriant rampant vegetation, the beautiful flowers, the majestic
palm-trees, the quaint villages and their interesting inhabitants, form
a picture which is beautiful, and, at the same time, sublime. As a whole
it is sublime; in detail, beautiful.

  Beauty charms, sublimity awes us, and is often accompanied with a
  feeling resembling fear; while beauty rather attracts and draws us
  towards it.

  FLEMING.

Let us see how Captain Cook was impressed with Tahiti when he first cast
his eyes upon this gem of the Pacific:

  Perhaps there is scarcely a spot in the universe that affords a more
  luxuriant prospect than the southeast part of Otaheite [Tahiti.] The
  hills are high and steep, and, in many places, craggy. But they are
  covered to the very summits with trees and shrubs, in such a manner
  that the spectator can scarcely help thinking that the very rocks
  possess the property of producing and supporting their verdant
  clothing. The flat land which bounds those hills toward the sea, and
  the interjacent valleys also, teem with various productions that grow
  with the most exuberant vigour; and, at once, fill the mind of the
  beholder with the idea that no place upon earth can outdo this, in the
  strength and beauty of vegetation. Nature has been no less liberal in
  distributing rivulets, which are found in every valley, and as they
  approach the sea, often divide into two or three branches, fertilizing
  the flat lands through which they run.

Tahiti is the same to-day as when Captain Cook visited it for the first
time. The only decided changes which have taken place since are the
building up of the capital city Papeete, and the construction of the
ninety-mile drive. The beauty of the island has been maintained because
the natives have preserved the magnificent primeval forests. Strip
Tahiti of its forests and it will be made a desert in a few years.
Nature relies on the forests to attract the clouds which bring the
moisture, and assist in the formation and preservation of the soil.
Remove the trees, and drouth and floods will destroy vegetation, and the
latter will wash the existing soil into the hungry abyss of the ocean.
Fertile and beautiful as Captain Cook found Tahiti, he deprecated the
idea of settling it with whites.

  Our occasional visits may, in some respects, have benefited its
  inhabitants; but a permanent establishment amongst them, conducted as
  most European establishments amongst Indian nations have unfortunately
  been, would, I fear, give them just cause to lament that our ships had
  ever found them out. Indeed, it is very unlikely that any measure of
  this kind should ever be seriously thought of, as it can neither serve
  the purposes of public ambition, nor of private avarice; and, without
  such inducements, I may pronounce, that it will never be undertaken.

The island has been invaded and taken by the whites and the results to
the natives have been in many respects disastrous, which goes to prove
the correctness of Captain Cook's prophecy.



THE CLIMATE

The climate of Tahiti, although tropical, is favorably influenced by the
trade-winds and frequent showers. The breezes from ocean and land keep
the heated atmosphere in motion, and the frequent rains throughout the
year have a direct effect in lowering the temperature. The entire island
from the shore to the highest mountain-peaks, is covered by forests and
a vigorous vegetation. These retain the moisture and attract the
pregnant clouds, securing, throughout the year, a sufficient rainfall to
feed the many mountain streams and water the rich soil of the
mountain-sides, valleys, ravines and lowlands along the coast. The
temperature seldom exceeds 90 degrees Fahrenheit, and during the coldest
months, March and April, it occasionally falls as low as 65 degrees
Fahrenheit. The atmosphere is charged with humidity, and when this
condition reaches the maximum degree, the heat is oppressive, more
especially when there is no land or ocean breeze. If a hotel could be
built at an elevation of three to four thousand feet above the level of
the sea, the guests would find a climate which could not be surpassed in
any other part of the world. A prolonged residence in Papeete or any
other part of the island near the sea-level is debilitating for the
whites. Those of the white inhabitants who can afford it, leave the
island every three or five years and seek recuperation and a renewal of
energy in a cooler climate, usually in California or Europe. Papeete,
partially enclosed by mountains, and only a few feet above the level of
the sea, and on the leeward side of the island, is said to be one of the
warmest places in the island. The village of Papara gets the full
benefit of the trade-winds and the land-breeze, and is one of the
coolest spots in Tahiti. Tahiti's summer-time is our winter. I was
fortunate in visiting the island during the latter part of January. It
is the time when Nature makes a special effort here to produce the
luxuriant vegetation after the drenching rains of December. It is the
time when the evergreen trees cast off, here and there, a faded leaf, to
be replaced by a new one from the vigorous unfolding buds. It is the
season of flowers and the greatest variety of fruits. It may interest
the reader to know that one day seven different kinds of fruits were
served at the breakfast-table, a luxury out of reach of our millionaires
at their homes in the North at that time of the year. For a winter
vacation, the months of January and February offer the greatest
inducements. Those who are in need of an ideal mental rest, and are fond
of a long ocean voyage, and enjoy tropic scenery and the marvelous
products of the fertile soil of the tropics, should not fail to visit
Tahiti, the little paradise in the midst of the vast expanse of the
Pacific Ocean.

HISTORY OF THE ISLAND

  History is the witness of the times, the torch of truth, the life of
  memory, the teacher of life, the messenger of antiquity.

  CICERO.

It was my privilege during my brief stay in Tahiti to meet Tati Salmon,
chief of the Papara district. He is a direct descendant of one of the
two noble families of the island, the Tevas, and one of the most
prominent and influential citizens of the island. I asked him to what
race the Tahitians belonged. To this question he had a ready reply. He
said: "We belong to no race; man was created here; this is the lost
Garden of Eden." There is much force, if not truth, in this assertion
when we take into consideration the charming beauty of the island and
the bounteous provisions which Nature has made here for the existence of
man. Then, too, the Tahitian is a good specimen of manhood,
intellectually and physically, far superior to the Negro race and the
Mongolian. Ariitaimai (Arii Taimai E), the mother of the chief just
referred to and the authoress of the book mentioned in the preface,
believes that the Tahitians belong to the great Aryan race, the race of
Arii, and that their chiefs were Arii, not kings, and the head chiefs,
Ariirahi—Great Chiefs. It was only the latter who were entitled to wear
the girdle of red feathers, as much the symbol of their preeminence as
the crown and sceptre of European royalty. The Tahitians are
Polynesians, like the inhabitants of most of the South Seas and of
Hawaii, and there can be but little doubt that the Polynesians belong to
the Malay race, having migrated from island to island, from west to
east, by way of Java, Samoa and the Hawaiian Islands. As these voyages
had to be made by means of frail canoes, we can readily conceive the
hardships endured by the bold navigators of centuries ago. A story
current in Tahiti relates that it was thus that the great chief Olopaua
of Hawaii, driven from home by disastrous floods, bore his wife Lu'ukia
in the twelfth century, to find a new dwelling place in Tahiti,
twenty-three hundred miles away. It is said that the chiefess was a
poetess, a dancer famed for grace, and the inventor of a style of dress
which is still made by the Hawaiians. Many of the primitive peoples
trace their origin to a legend which is handed down from generation to
generation.

  In all ages of the world there is nothing with which mankind hath been
  so much delighted as with those little fictitious stories which go
  under the name of fables or apologues among the ancient heathens, and
  of parables in the sacred writings.

  BISHOP PORTEUS.

The Tevas of Tahiti have their legend and it is related by Ariitaimai,
as it has been told for many generations. They take pride in the story
that they are the direct descendants from the Shark God. The legend
tells how many centuries ago a chief of Punaauia, by the name of Te
manutu-ruu, married a chiefess of Vaiari, named Hototu, and had a son,
Terii te moanarau. At the birth of the child, the father set out in his
canoe for the Paumotu Islands to obtain red feathers (Ura) to make the
royal belt for the young prince. The legend begins by assuming that
Vaiari was the oldest family, with its Maraes, and that Punaauia was
later in seniority and rank. While Te manutu-ruu was absent on his long
voyage to the Paumotus, a visitor appeared at Vaiari, and was
entertained by the chiefess. This visitor was the first ancestor of the
Tevas. He was only half human, the other half fish, or Shark God; and he
swam from the ocean, through the reef, into the Vaihiria River, where he
came ashore, and introduced himself as Vari mataauhoe, and, after having
partaken of the hospitalities of the chiefess, took up his residence
with her. But after their intimacy had lasted some time, one day, when
they were together, Hototu's dog came into the house and showed his
affection for his mistress by licking her face, or, as we should say
now, kissed her, although in those days this mark of affection was
unknown, as the Polynesians instead only touched noses as an
affectionate greeting. At this the man-shark was so displeased that he
abandoned the chiefess. He walked into the river, turned fish again and
swam out to sea. On his way he met the canoe of the Chief Te manutu-ruu
returning from the Paumotus, and stopped to speak to him. The chief
invited Vari mataauhoe to return with him, but the man-shark declined,
giving as his reason that the chiefess was too fond of dogs.



The legend proves that the natives regarded Vaiari as the source of
their aristocracy. Papara makes the same claim, for when Vari mataauhoe
left Hototu he said to her: "You will bear me a child; if a girl, she
will belong to you and take your name; but if a boy, you are to call him
Teva; rain and wind will accompany his birth, and to whatever spot he
goes, rain and wind will always foretell his coming. He is of the race
of Ariirahi, and you are to build him a Marae which you are to call
Matava (the two eyes of Tahiti), and there he is to wear the Marotea,
and he must be known as the child of Ahurei (the wind that blows from
Taiarapu)." A boy was born, and, as foretold, in rain and wind. The name
of Teva was given to him; and Matoa was built; and there Teva ruled.
From this boy came the name Teva; but when and how it was applied to the
clan no one knows. The members of the tribe or clan believe it must have
been given by the Arii of Papara or Vaiari. To this day, the Tevas
seldom travel without rain and wind, so that they use the word Teva
rarivari—Teva wet always and everywhere. The Vaiari people still point
out the place where the first ancestor of the clan lived as a child, his
first bathing place, and the different waters in which he fished as he
came on his way toward Papara. This legend is to-day as fresh in the
district of Papara as it was centuries ago. It is but natural that the
Tevas, one of the two most influential and powerful of the tribes of
Tahiti, should be anxious to trace their ancestry to a royal origin even
if the first ancestor should be a man-shark, little remembering that

  It is not wealth nor ancestry, but honorable conduct and a noble
  disposition that make men great.

  OVIDIUS.

As the Tahitians had no written language before the missionaries visited
the island, little is known of its earlier history. The history of the
island since its discovery has been accurately written up by Ariitaimai,
an eye-witness of many of the most stirring events and on that account
most to be relied upon, for

  The only good histories are those that have been written by the
  persons themselves who commanded in the affairs whereof they write.

  MONTAIGNE.

Let us follow her account of the history of the island since its
discovery by Captain Samuel Wallis, June 18, 1767. The captain made a
voyage around the world in Her Majesty's ship _Dolphin_, and on his way
found the island, and called it Otaheite. At that time, Amo was head
chief of Papara and of the Tevas, or rather his son Teriirere, born
about 1762, was head chief, and Amo exercised power as his guardian,
according to native custom, which made the eldest child immediately on
birth, the head of the family. At that time the power of calling the
Tevas to conference or war was peculiar to the Papara head chief; the
military strength of the Tevas was unconquerable, if it could be united;
but perhaps the most decisive part of every head chief's influence was
his family connection. Nowhere in the world was marriage a matter of
more political and social consequence than in Tahiti. Women occupied an
important position in society and political affairs. The chiefesses held
the reins of government with as much firmness as the chiefs, and
commanded the same influence and respect. She was as independent of her
husband as of any other chief; she had her seat or throne, in the Marae
even to the exclusion of her husband; and if she were ambitious she
might win or lose crowns for her children as happened with Captain
Wallis' friend Oberea, the great-aunt of Ariitaimai Purea, and with her
niece, Tetuauni reiaiteatea, the mother of the first King Pomare. At the
time of Wallis' and Cook's visits, Papara was the principal city in
Tahiti, and Papeete, the present capital city of the French possessions
in Oceanica, a mere village. The Papara head chief was never the head
chief of the whole island, but his power and influence were predominant
throughout the whole island. The kingship which Europeans insisted on
conferring on him, or on any other head chief who happened for the time
to rival him, was never accepted by the natives until forced upon them
by foreign influence and arms. From this it will be seen that before
European influence made itself felt, the Tahitians were divided into
tribes ruled by so many chiefs, with a head chief whose influence
extended over the entire island. The form of native government was very
simple and had many very commendable features. Wars between the tribes
and between Tahiti and the neighboring island, Moorea, were, however, of
frequent occurrence.



All exact knowledge concerning dates in the history of the island begins
with June 24, 1767, when Wallis warped his ship into the bay of Matavai,
the most northerly point of the island. The appearance of the
foreigners, the first time the natives had ever seen a white man and
such a great ship, created consternation. Excitement ran high on the
landing of the crew. The natives attacked them, but their rude
implements of warfare could not cope with firearms, and they were
defeated. Two days later, June 26th, the battle was renewed and again
terminated in the defeat of the natives, promptly followed by sudden
friendship for their first European visitors. The natives, extremely
superstitious, were at first suspicious, and it required some time to
establish free relations between them and the commander and crew of the
_Dolphin_. Strangely enough, the first native to board the ship was a
woman. The incident is related by Wallis himself:

  On Saturday, the 11th, in the afternoon, the gunner came on board with
  a tall woman, who seemed to be about five and forty years of age, of a
  pleasing countenance and majestic deportment. He told me that she was
  but just come into that part of the country, and that seeing great
  respect paid her by the rest of the natives, he had made her some
  presents; in return for which she had invited him to her home, which
  was about two miles up the valley, and given him some large hogs;
  after which she returned with him to the watering-place and expressed
  a desire to go on board the ship, in which wish he had thought it
  proper, on all accounts, that she should be gratified. She seemed to
  be under no restraint, either from diffidence or fear, when she came
  into the ship, and she behaved all the while she was on board with an
  easy freedom that always distinguishes conscious superiority and
  habitual command. I gave her a large blue mantle that reached from her
  shoulders to her feet, which I drew over her, and tied on with
  ribbons; I gave her also a looking-glass, beads of several sorts, and
  many other things, which she accepted with good grace and much
  pleasure. She took notice that I had been ill, and pointed to the
  shore. I understood that she meant I should go thither to perfect my
  recovery, and I made signs that I would go thither the next morning.
  When she intimated an inclination to return, I ordered the gunner to
  go with her, who, having set her on shore, attended her to her
  habitation, which he described as being very large and well built. He
  said that in this house she had many guards and domestics, and that
  she had another at a little distance which was enclosed in lattice
  work.

This visit opened the island to the Englishmen. Wallis repeatedly refers
to his first visitor as "my princess, or rather queen." When he came on
shore the next day he was met by the princess, who ordered that he and
the first lieutenant and purser, who were also ill, should be carried by
the people to her home, where they were treated in a most hospitable
manner. Here is a beautiful instance of natural hospitality, charity and
gratitude combined; a kindly deed dictated by unselfish motives, an
exhibition of virtues so rarely met with in the common walks of life.

  Hospitality to the better sort and charity to the poor; two virtues
  that are never exercised so well as when they accompany each other.

  ATTERBURY.

The princess had full control over the curious, motley crowd, which gave
way to the strangers by a sign of her hand. The house proved to be the
Fare-hau, or Council-house, of Haapape, and the princess, as Wallis
called her, who did not belong to Haapape, but to quite another part of
the island, was herself a guest whose presence there was due to her
relationship with the chief.

Wallis left the Island July 27th. His "queen" and her attendants came on
board and bade him and his crew a most affectionate farewell. Neither
Wallis, nor Bougainville, who visited Tahiti in April, 1768, eight
months later, ever learned what her true rank was, or from what part of
the island she came. According to Ariitaimai, she was her
great-great-grandaunt Purea, or rather, the wife of her
great-great-granduncle.

Bougainville named the island New Cytherea, and Commerson, the
naturalist, charmed by its beauty and astonished at its resources,
called it Utopia. The latter gave the following romantic description of
the island and its people in a letter published in the _Mercure de
France_:

  Je puis vous dire que c'est le seul coin de la terre ou habitent des
  hommes sans vices, sans préjugés, sans besoins, sans dissensions. Nés
  sous le plus beau ciel, nourris des fruits d'une terre féconde sans
  culture, régis par des pères de famille plutôt que par des rois, ils
  ne connaissent d'autre dieu que l'Amour. Tous les jours lai sont
  consacrés, toute l'isle son temple, toutes les femmes—me
  demandez-vous? Les rivales des Geôrgiennes en beauté et les sœurs des
  grâces toutes unes.

Such was the simple, innocent, happy island life when Tahiti was
discovered by the white man, whose pretended object was to bring to the
natives the benefits of modern civilization. As to the immediate effects
of European civilization on the morals of the natives, Ariitaimai has
the following to say in reply to the alleged laxity of Tahitian morals:

  No one knows how much of the laxity of morals was due to the French
  and English themselves, whose appearance certainly caused a sudden and
  shocking overthrow of such moral rules as had existed before in the
  island society: and the "supposed" means that when the island society
  as a whole is taken into account. Marriage was real as far as it went,
  and the standard rather higher than that of Paris; in some ways
  extremely lax, and in others strict and stern to a degree that would
  have astonished even the most conventional English nobleman, had he
  understood it

The third European to visit Tahiti was that intrepid explorer, Captain
Cook, who entered Matavai Bay on the 13th of April, 1769, in Her
Majesty's bark, the _Endeavor_, on his first voyage around the world. He
met chief Tootahah, under whose protection he settled on Point Venus. He
was accompanied by a staff of scientists, among them Joseph Banks and
Dr. Solander, a Swedish naturalist. Captain Wallis' "queen" was again on
the shore to meet the strangers. Captain Cook gives a detailed account
of her visit:

  She first went to Mr. Banks' tent at the fort, where she was not
  known, till the master, who knew her, happening to go ashore, brought
  her on board with two men and several women, who seemed to be all of
  her family. I made them all some presents or other, but to Obariea
  (for that was the woman's name) I gave several things, in return for
  which, as soon as I went on shore with her, she gave me a hog and
  several bunches of plantains. These she caused to be carried from her
  canoes up to the fort in a kind of procession, she and I bringing up
  the rear. This woman is about forty years of age, and, like most of
  the other women, very masculine. She is head or chief of her own
  family or tribe, but to all appearance hath no authority over the rest
  of the inhabitants, whatever she might have when the _Dolphin_ was here.



Cook ascertained at this time, that Obariea was the wife of the most
influential chief of the island, Oamo, but did not live with him. She
had two children, a daughter eighteen years old, and a boy of seven, the
heir to the throne. He says in his Journal:

  The young boy above mentioned is son to Oamo and Obariea, but Oamo and
  Obariea do not at this time live together as man and wife, he not
  being able to endure with her troublesome disposition. I mention this
  because it shows that separation in the marriage state is not unknown
  to these people.

When Cook made his second visit to the island, in 1774, he learned that
Oamo and Obariea, or, as they are called in the genealogy of the Tevas,
Amo and Purea, had been driven from Papara into the mountains. Vehiatu,
the victor, made Amo resign, and the regency of that part of the island
was entrusted to Tootuhah, the youngest brother of the deposed chief.

POMARE, THE ROYAL FAMILY OF TAHITI

The Pomare family are descendants of chiefs called Tu of Faaraoa, one of
the atoll islands of the Paumotu Archipelago, some two hundred and fifty
miles northeast of Tahiti. The exact date of the first Tu's arrival in
Tahiti is unknown. Even the generation can not be fixed. The Pomares
were always ashamed of their Paumotu descent, which they regarded as a
flaw in their heraldry, and which was a reproach to them in the eyes of
the Tahitians, for all Tahitians regarded the Paumotus as savage, and
socially inferior. The first Tu who came to visit the distant land of
Tahiti, came in by the Taunoa opening, which is the eastern channel,
into what is now the harbor of Papeete. Landing at Taunoa a stranger, he
was invited to be the guest of Manaihiti, who seems to have been a chief
of Pare. He was adopted by the chief as his brother, and at the death of
the chief, he became heir and successor in the chief's line. He married
into the Arue family, which gave his son a claim to the joint chiefdom
of Pare Arue; and at last his grandson, or some later generation,
obtained in marriage no less a personage than Tetuaehuri, daughter of
Taiarapu. One of the members of this family, Teu (born 1720, died 1802)
made new and important advances in the social and political circles of
Tahiti by marriage, and became the father of Pomare I. (1743-1803), the
first king of Tahiti. Teu seems to have been a very clever and cautious
man. He never assumed to be a great chief or to wear the belt of
feathers. He was more jealous of his son than of Amo or his son
Teriirere. His son, Tu, was born about 1743. Related by birth with two
of the most influential families, he strengthened his native ties by
marrying Tetuanui-rea-i-te-rai, of the adjoining independent chiefdom of
Tefauai Ahurai, who was not only a niece of Purea, but quite as
ambitious and energetic as Purea herself. The English, who could not
conceive that the Tahitians should be able to exist without some
pretense of royalty, gave Tu the rank and title of king, notwithstanding
that he was only one, and at that not the most influential of several
Arii rahi. To the great dissatisfaction of the other chiefs, Tu received
the lion's share of presents from Captain Cook. At this action, the
Ahurai and Attahura people were enraged, and Cook was quite unable to
understand that they had reason to complain. To them, Cook's partiality
for Tu must have seemed a deliberate insult. When Cook returned on his
third voyage, in 1777, several Tahitian tribes were in a state of war
with Moorea, in which Tu took no active part. Cook then deliberately
intervened in the support of the plan he had adopted of elevating Tu at
the expense of the other chiefs. In his estimation, Tu was king by
divine right, and any attack on his authority was treason in the first
place, and an attack on British influence in the next. British influence
and British threats made a radical change in the government of Tahiti,
in opposition to the expressed wish of the great majority of the people.
England wanted to control the political affairs of the island for
commercial gain, and to extend her sovereignty in the South Seas, which
only confirms that

  All government—indeed, every human benefit and enjoyment, every virtue
  and every prudent act—is founded on compromise and barter.

  BURKE.



After Cook's departure, nearly eleven years elapsed before another
European ship called at Tahiti, and, during this time, Pomare paid
dearly for the distinctions forced upon him by the foreigners. When
Lieutenant Bligh arrived in the _Bounty_, in 1788, Tu told him that after
five years from the time of Cook's last departure, the people of the
island Moorea (Eirrieo) joined with those of Attahura and made an attack
on his district, and many of his subjects were killed, while he had
himself fled, with the survivors, to the mountains. All the houses and
property had been destroyed or carried away by the enemy. Bligh landed
at Matavai in the _Bounty_ October 26, 1788. He came for a supply of
breadfruit, which was to be introduced and domesticated in the various
tropical colonies of Great Britain, and indirectly to advance the
interests and power of Tu, who had nearly lost his influence over the
natives. His position was so desperate that he begged the lieutenant to
take him and his wife, Tetua, to England. He had a son, at this time six
years old, who became the first Christian king of Tahiti. Before leaving
the island, April 3, 1789, Bligh did what he could to strengthen Tu's
position, and supplied him with firearms. For this act he gave the
following explanation:

  He (Tu) had frequently expressed a wish that I would leave some
  firearms and ammunition with him, as he expected to be attacked after
  the ship sailed, and perhaps chiefly on account of our partiality to
  him. I therefore thought it but reasonable to accede to his request. I
  was the more readily prevailed on, as he said his intentions were to
  act only on the defensive. This, indeed, seems most suited to his
  disposition, which is neither active nor enterprising. When I proposed
  to leave with him a pair of pistols, which they prefer to muskets,
  they told me that his wife, Tetua, would fight with one and Oedidee
  with the other. Tetua has learned to load and fire a musket with great
  dexterity, and Oedidee is an excellent marksman. It is not common for
  women in this country to go to war, but Tetua is a very resolute
  woman, of a large make, and has great bodily strength.

History shows that Tetua was not the only fighting woman in Tahiti, as
at different times, in tribal wars, it was not uncommon for women to
take an active part, and in more than one instance the leading part.

  On great occasions it is almost always women who have given the
  strongest proofs of virtue and devotion; the reason is, that with men,
  good and bad qualities are in general the result of calculation,
  whilst in women they are impulses, springing from the heart.

  COUNT MONTHOLON.

Lieutenant Bligh left the island April 4th. As he was passing the
Friendly, or Tonga group, April 28th, the larger part of his officers
and men mutinied and set him and some eighteen others adrift in the
ship's launch. The mutineers then put the ship about and returned to
Tahiti, where they arrived at Matavai Bay, June 6, 1789. There they took
in all the live-stock they could obtain, and twenty-four Tahitians, and
sailed again June 16th for Tubuai, but appeared once more, September
22nd, and landed sixteen of the mutineers, who were tired of their
adventures. The rest sailed suddenly the next night, and vanished from
the sight of men for twenty years. The sixteen mutineers who remained
scattered more or less over the island, but made Pare their headquarters
and Tu their patron. Here they set to work, November 12, 1789, to build
a thirty-foot schooner, with which to make their escape. The effect of
the example of these ruffians and criminals on the morals of the simple,
receptive Tahitians can be readily imagined. These men, who had enjoyed
the confidence of their commander and the advantages and pleasures of a
trip to foreign strange countries, proved ungrateful, and "the earth
produces nothing worse than an ungrateful man" (Ansonius). The schooner
was launched August 5, 1790. The war which immediately followed, and
which reestablished Tu in his power for the time, deserves to be called
the War of the Mutineers of the _Bounty_. When Tu died, thirteen years
later, the missionaries in their Journal recorded many details about his
life and character, and among other things, they said:

  He was born in the district of Oparre, where his corpse now is, and
  was by birth chief of that district, and none other. The notice of the
  English navigators laid the foundation for his future aggrandizement;
  and the runaway seamen that from time to time quitted their vessels to
  sojourn in the island (especially that of His Majesty's ship _Bounty_'s
  crew, which resided here) were the instruments for gaining to Pomarre
  a greater extent of dominion and power than any other man had before
  in Otaheite.

It is very evident that the first Pomare was a man without firmness and
that what influence he exercised was due to the energies and ambition of
his wife and to foreign support. When Lieutenant Bligh reached home and
reported the mutiny, the British government sent the frigate _Pandora_ in
search of the _Bounty_ and the deserted crew. The _Pandora_ never found the
_Bounty_, which long since had been burned by the mutineers at Pitcairn
Island; but she did find such of the mutineers as had returned to
Tahiti, and who were actively engaged in establishing Tu as a Tahitian
despot, when the _Pandora_, in March, 1791, appeared in Matavai Bay. The
mutineers, it seems, unable to keep at sea in the rickety schooner,
landed at Papara, March 26th, and took refuge in the mountains. Captain
Edwards, of the _Pandora_, immediately sent two boats, with a number of
men, to Papara. Through the friendly office of the chiefs and natives,
the mutineers were finally captured, one by one, until only six remained
out, and these were at last found near the seashore, where they were
captured after many fruitless attempts. The _Pandora_ sailed from Tahiti
with her prisoners in May, 1791, and in December following, Vancouver
arrived in the sloop of war _Discovery_, on a search for a northwest
passage to the Orient, stopping for supplies at Tahiti, December 28th.



Vancouver, who had been with Cook in 1777, inquired for his old friends.
He learned that the young king had taken the name of Otoo, and his old
friend that of Pomare, having given up his name with his sovereign
jurisdiction, though he still seemed to retain his authority as regent.
This is the first record of the name Pomare, by which the family has
since been known. After the birth of the young Tu, about 1782, the first
of his children who was allowed to live, the father seems to have taken
the name of Tuiah, or Tarino, which he bore in 1788. He took the name of
Pomare (night cough) from his younger son, Terii nava horoo, a young
child in 1791, who coughed at night. With the assistance of English
guns, Pomare waged active war on neighboring chiefs, and the chief of
Papara was the last one to succumb. By successive vigorous strokes, he
finally gained control of the entire group of islands, including
Borabora.

MISSIONARY RULE

  It is better that men should be governed by priestcraft than violence.

  LORD MACAULEY.

The early missionaries of Tahiti played an important role in the island
politics. They did not limit their work to the conversion of the heathen
islanders, but took an active part in political affairs, and many of
their doings in that direction were not in accord with the teachings of
the gospel. The first missionaries sent to Tahiti from England reached
the island in the _Duff_, March, 1797. They received information of the
island politics from two Swedish sailors, Andrew Lind, of the ship
_Matilda_, which had been wrecked in the South Sea in 1792, and Peter
Haggerstein, who deserted from the _Daedalus_ in February, 1793. Both of
these men were adventurers of the type that has infested the South Seas
for more than a century. They became well-known characters in the
history of the island, sometimes assisting the missionaries, and
sometimes annoying them. In July, 1797, Peter accompanied one of the
missionaries as a guide and interpreter, on a circuit round the island,
to make a sort of census, as a starting-point for the missionary work.
They began with Papenoo, July 11th, and as they walked, Peter boasted of
his exploits. His stories were so much in conflict with facts that they
rather misled than aided the missionaries in search of island affairs.
Temarii, the chief of Papara, had visited the missionaries at Matavai.
The missionaries gave the following account of him:

  May 7, 1797, visited by the chief priest from Papara, Temarre. He was
  dressed in a wrapper of Otaheitian cloth, and over it an officer's
  coat doubled around him. At his first approach he appeared timid, and
  was invited in. He was just about seated when the cuckoo clock struck
  and filled him with astonishment and terror. Old Pyetea had brought
  the bird some breadfruit, observing it must be starved if we never fed
  it. At breakfast we invited Temarii to our repast, but he first held
  out his hand with a bit of plantain and looked very solemn, which, one
  of the natives said, was an offering to Eatooa (Tahitian divinity) and
  we must receive it. When we had taken it out of his hand and laid it
  under the table, he sat down and made a hearty breakfast. Brother
  Cover read the translated address to all these respected guests, the
  natives listening with attention, and particularly the priest, who
  seemed to drink in every word, but appeared displeased when urged to
  cast away their false gods, and on hearing the names of Jehovah and
  Jesus he would turn and whisper. Two days afterwards, Temarii came
  again to the mission house and this time with the young Otoo, Pomare
  H., and his first wife Tetuanui.

Here again is the account of the visit by the missionaries:

  May 9th, Temarre accompanied the king and queen and staid to dine with
  us. He is, we find, of the royal race and son of the famed Oberea. He
  is the first chief of the island after Pomarre, by whom he has been
  subdued, and now lives in friendship with him and has adopted his son.
  He is also high in esteem as a priest.

In July of the same year the missionaries visited Temarii at Papara on
their way around the island. They found the chief under the influence of
Kava, but were feasted the next day on Temarii's feast pig. Not only was
Temarii the most powerful chief of the island, but Pomare had become, by
his son's accession, a chief of the second order. He depended greatly on
the favor of his son, the young Tu, who was, in 1797, supposed to be at
least fifteen and perhaps seventeen years of age, and who had been
adopted by Temarii, his cousin, who was about ten years older than he.
Adoption was rather stronger in the South Seas than the tie of natural
parentage. Between his natural father, Pomare, and his adopted father,
Temarii, the young Tu preferred the latter, and sooner or later every
one knew that Temarii would help Tu to emancipate himself and drive
Pomare from the island.



The _Duff_ sailed for England August 14, 1797, leaving the missionaries to
the mercies of rival factions, and they soon ascertained that Pomare and
Tu were on anything but friendly terms. The missionaries had faith in
Pomare, who chose one of them by the name of Cover as a brother. Temarii
chose another by the name of Main. These two missionaries went to Papara
August 15th, at the suggestion of the influential native priest, Manne
Manne, to remonstrate against a human sacrifice which was to be made at
the Marae Tooarai. On account of a murder recently committed, the
missionaries found the chief and people greatly excited, and fled as
quickly as possible.

In the month of March the missionaries found themselves in a critical
condition when the ship _Nautilus_ appeared and two of her crew deserted.
The deserters went to Pare and were sheltered there. The captain of the
_Nautilus_ at once set to work to recover them. Four of the missionaries
proceeded to Pare to see Tu, Pomare and Temarii and informed them that a
refusal to return the men would be regarded as exhibiting an evil
intention against the missionaries. They found Tu and Temarii at Pare,
but went to get Pomare to join them, when they were suddenly attacked
and stripped by some thirty natives, who took their clothes and treated
them rather roughly, but at last released them. They went to Pomare's
house and were kindly received. Pomare returned with them to Tu, and
insisted on the punishment of the offenders and the delivery of the
deserters. Two were executed, and the district of Pare took up arms to
avenge them. Tu joined his father and suppressed the riot, so that the
missionaries' clothes cost the natives fifteen lives before order was
restored. This incident made the missionaries very unpopular and they
had to depend more than ever on Pomare for protection.

On August 24th, two whaling vessels, the _Cornwall_ and _Sally_, of London,
anchored in Matavai Bay, and most of the principal chiefs went on board.
On the 30th, while the missionaries were at dinner, Pomare came in great
haste, and told them that a man had been blown up with gunpowder at the
Council house in Pare, and requested them to hasten to the place and
render assistance. When they arrived they found that the injured man was
Temarii. Here is the account of the affair by the missionaries:

  At our arrival we were led to the bed of Temaree called also Orepiah,
  and beheld such a spectacle as we had never before seen. Brother
  Broomhall began immediately to apply what he had prepared with a
  camel's-hair brush over most parts of the body. He was apparently more
  passive under the operation than we could conceive a man in his
  situation would be capable of. The night drawing on, we took leave of
  him by saying we would return next morning with a fresh preparation.
  On the following morning we were struck with much surprise at the
  appearance of the patient He was literally daubed with something like
  a thick white paste. Upon inquiry we found it to be the scrapings of
  yams. Both the chief and his wife seemed highly offended at Brother
  Broomhall's application the preceding evening, and they would not
  permit him to do anything more for him, as he had felt so much pain
  from what he had applied. It was said that there was a curse put into
  the medicine by our God.

It must be remembered that the Tahitian chiefs were also priests and not
infrequently acted as physicians. The dissatisfaction of Temarii with
the treatment of his case by the missionaries had therefore to be
considered as a most unfortunate affair. Under these conditions the
missionaries were apprehensive of increasing hostilities. The suspicion
on part of the superstitious natives that the missionaries had been sent
by Pomare to curse Temarii and cause his death was not only a natural
but a reasonable one to the chief as well as his subjects. Pomare was
quite capable of such conduct and as far as the natives knew, the
missionaries were Pomare's friends and supporters. The accident which
gave rise to this unfortunate occurrence was due to the English
gunpowder and it was fortunate that the missionaries had nothing to do
with furnishing it. The explosion occurred while Temarii was testing the
quality of powder which he obtained from the whalers _Cornwall_ and _Sally_.

  A pistol was loaded and unthinkingly fired in the midst of a number of
  people, over the whole quantity (five pounds) of powder received. A
  spark of fire dropped from the pistol upon the powder that lay on the
  ground, and in a moment it blew up. The natives did not feel
  themselves hurt at first, but when the smoke was somewhat dispersed,
  observing their skin fouled with powder, they began to rub their arms,
  and found the skin peeling off under their fingers. Terrified at this,
  they instantly ran to a river near at hand and plunged themselves in.

Temarii lingered in great suffering till September 8th, but the
missionaries did not dare to visit him again for fear of violence on the
part of the indignant natives. The whole body of chiefs was present and
looked on in consternation while Temarii died. The chief's remains were
carried, in the usual state, round the island to all his districts and
duly mourned; and in the regular course prescribed by the island
ceremonial, his head was secretly hidden in the cave at Papara. These
demonstrations served to spread the news of the calamity, for which the
missionaries received the exclusive blame. The political complications
which followed induced Pomare to seek safety in flight to the Paumotu
Islands, leaving his wife to face the storm. The chiefess was not idle
after her husband's cowardly flight. On the 29th of November she
compromised with Tu by ceding to him the authority he wanted, and
obtained from him a pledge assuring her safety. This guaranty was the
life of the high priest, old Manne Manne, Tu's best friend. He was
murdered by Tetuanui's people on his way from Matavai to Pare. The
chiefess was in the missionaries' house when this news arrived. She had
a cartridge-box around her waist and a musket near at hand. She shook
hands in a friendly manner with the Swede, saying unto him, "It is all
over," meaning the war, and immediately returned to her home. Pomare
gained nothing by these dissensions, for he had nothing to gain, but had
to sacrifice a part of his possessions. The only winner in this tragic
game was the worst and most bloodthirsty of all, Tu, the first Christian
king. It must be remarked that this king was the creation of the
English, and that he was used as a tool in the hands of the
missionaries. The Europeans came, and not only upset all the moral ideas
of the natives, but also their whole political system. Before European
influence made itself felt in Tahiti, whenever a chief became
intolerably arrogant or dangerous, the other chiefs united to overthrow
him. All the wars that are remembered in island traditions were caused
by the overweening pride, violence or abnormal ambition of the great
chiefs of districts, and always ended in correcting existing evils and
in restoring the balance of power.

The English came just at the time when one of these revolutions was in
progress. The whole island had united to punish the chiefess of Papara
for outrageous disregard of the island courtesies which took the place
of international law between great chiefs. Purea had taken away the
symbol of sovereignty she had assumed for her son, and had given it for
safe-keeping to the chief of Paea. The natives and chiefs had recognized
the chief of Pare, Arue, as entitled to wear the Maro-ura, which Purea
had denied him by insulting his wife. Then the chief of Paea had tried
to imitate Purea and assert supreme authority, only to be in his turn
defeated and killed.



Probably Tu would never have attempted a similar course if the English
had not insisted on recognizing and treating him as king of the whole
island. He was one of the weakest of the chiefs and enjoyed little if
any reputation as a military power. The other chiefs would have easily
kept him in his proper place if the English had not constantly supported
him and restored him to power when he was vanquished. English
interference and the assistance of the missionaries prolonged his
ambition and caused the constant revolutions which gave no chance for
the people to recover from the losses. Pomare was a shrewd politician
and with the assistance of English guns finally gained control over the
whole island, crushing tribal rule, the safeguard of the people under
his despotic rule. All visitors to the island became aware how
desperately the unfortunate people struggled against the English policy
of creating and supporting a tyranny. The brutality and violence of Tu
made him equally hated by his own people of Pare and by the Teva
districts. Of these facts the missionaries had full knowledge, as is
evident from their numerous correspondents, nevertheless, they assisted
him in carrying out his plans to gain control over the entire island.
They supplied him freely with firearms and ammunition. To preserve peace
the missionaries did some very curious things which suggest, as they
hinted, that they were glad to see the natives fighting together, as is
evident from one of their daily records:

  August 20, 1800.—We hear great preparations are making, whether for
  war or peace is to be determined in a short time, by some heathenish
  divination. If it should prove for war, those who are eager for blood
  seem determined to glut themselves, we rejoice that the Lord of Hosts
  is the God of the heathen as well as the Captain of the Armies of
  Israel; and while the potsherds of the earth are dashing themselves to
  pieces one against the other, they are fulfilling his determinate
  counsels and foreknowledge.

In the month of June Pomare instituted a wholesale massacre to subject
the entire island to his rule, and by brutal force gained the object of
his ambition. In 1808 the political situation was such that the
missionaries found it necessary for their safety to leave the island,
and fled with Pomare, November 12th, to the island of Moorea. Pomare's
cruelties and atrocities practiced upon the natives during his
tyrannical rule are well described in a pen-picture drawn by Moerenhout:

  After having massacred all whom they had surprised (in Attahura),
  after having burned the houses, they went on to Papara, where Tati,
  who is still living (1837), was chief; but fortunately a man who had
  escaped from the carnage of Punaauia came to warn the inhabitants of
  Papara, so that they had time, not to unite in defense, but to fly.
  Nevertheless, in that infernal night and the day following a great
  number of persons perished, especially old men, women and children;
  and among the victims were the widow and children of Aripaia
  (Ariifaataia) Amo's son, who, surprised the next evening near
  Taiarahu, were pitilessly massacred with all their attendants. Tati
  and some of his warriors succeeded in reaching a fort called
  Papeharoro, at Mairepehe; but they were too few to maintain themseives
  there, and were forced to take refuge in the most inaccessible parts
  of the high mountains, from whence this chief succeeded in getting to
  a canoe which some of his faithful followers provided for him, and
  kept in readiness on the shore, at the peril of their lives. With him
  were his brother and his young son, whom he had himself carried in his
  arms during all this time of fatigue and dangers.

Opuhara became chief of Papara, and soon afterward chief of the island,
and remained the chief personage of Tahiti during the next seven years.
Ellis, the historian of the missionaries, described him as an
intelligent and interesting man.

At Moorea, Pomare's friends were Paumotuans, Boraborans, Raiateans,
missionaries, and outcasts. Even these at last abandoned him. The
missionary journal shows that they had long regarded their work as a
failure, and after identifying themselves with Pomare, in spite of
emphatic warnings, no other result was possible. So the missionaries,
leaving only Mr. Nott at Moorea, sailed for Australia, not daring to
accept the proffered protection of the Tahiti chiefs, because they could
not separate themselves, in the minds of the common people, from Pomare
and his interests. At Moorea, Pomare urged the visiting chiefs to become
Christians. On the 18th of July, 1812, he announced his own decision to
the missionaries, and shortly afterwards, on invitation from his old
district of Pare Arue, he returned to Tahiti, where he was permitted to
remain for two years, as an avowed Christian, unmolested by his old
enemies. He took up his residence at Pare Arue as a Christian chief,
August 13, 1812, and kept up a correspondence with the missionaries at
Moorea.

The missionaries returned and were more successful in Christianizing the
people. On the 17th of February, 1813, Pomare wrote: "Matavai has been
delivered up to me. When I am perfectly assured of the sincerity of this
surrender I will write to you another letter." The missionaries made a
tour of the island; many conversions took place; in Moorea several idols
were publicly burned; there could be no doubt that the Christians were
pursuing an active course, and that their success would bring back the
authority of Pomare over the whole island; but neither Opuhara nor Tati
interfered, and the peace remained. Yet, after waiting two years at
Pare, vainly expecting the restoration of his government, and
endeavoring to recover his authority in his hereditary districts, Pomare
returned to Moorea in the autumn of 1814, accompanied by a large train
of adherents and dependents, all professing Christianity. At the same
time the Christian converts in Tahiti became an organization known as
the Bure Atua, and every one could see that Pomare was making use of
them, and of his wife's resources, to begin a new effort to recover by
force his authority in the island. War was inevitable, and Pomare, with
his Christian followers and missionaries, could choose the time and
place.

Pomare himself was not a soldier, nor had he anything of a soldierly
spirit. He left active campaigning to his wives, who were less likely to
rouse the old enmity. His two wives, Terite and Pomare vehine, came over
to Pare Arue May, 1815, with a large party of Christians, and urged
their plans for the overthrow of the native chiefs. The chiefs had no
other alternative than to get rid of them, and fixed the night of July
7th for the combined attack. Opuhara led the forces, and it is said that
he had given the two queens timely warning to effect their escape. For
his delay some of the other chiefs charged him with treachery. He
replied that he wished no harm to the two women or their people; that
his enemies were the Parionuu; and he marched directly into Pare Arue,
and subdued it once more.



While Pomare and the missionaries grew stronger, and, as Ellis expressed
it, "became convinced that the time was not very remote when their faith
and principles must rise preeminent above the power and influence" of
the native chiefs, the chiefs themselves exhibited vacillation. Pomare
returned, with all his following, apparently armed and prepared for war.
The native converts were trained to the use of firearms and the whole
missionary interest became, for the moment, actively militant. The
native chiefs remained passive. Under the appearance of religious
services, Pomare and the missionaries kept their adherents under arms
and prepared them for any hostilities that might arise.

With his army numbering eight hundred, two war canoes, one manned with
musketeers, the other with a swivel gun in the stern, commanded by a
white man, Pomare, on November 11th, took possession at or near the
village of Punaauia, near Papara, with pickets far in advance. Opuhara
hastily summoned his men in the famous battle of Fei-pi (the ripe
plantains). The field of battle was among the foothills near the coast.
Opuhara's warriors made a valiant attack and pierced the front ranks of
the enemy till it reached the spot where one of the queens, Pomare
vehine, and the chief warriors stood. There one of the native converts
leveled his gun at Opuhara, fired, the chief fell, and in a very short
time expired. The leader of the native forces was killed by one of his
own people who had cast his lot with Pomare and the missionaries.

This war was brought on to force the natives to Pomare's rule, and not
for the purpose of removing obstacles to the Christianization of the
islanders, as the chiefs were not opposed to the peaceable dissemination
of the teachings of the gospel. It was a political and not a religious
war, and in this political endeavor the missionaries and their converts
took the leading part. The missionaries evidently forgot the legitimate
object of their mission and unmercifully slaughtered the natives who
took up arms to defend their rights. The Christians on Pomare's side
were fighting for supremacy, unmindful of the teachings of the sacred
Scriptures.

  For he shall have judgment without mercy, that hath showed no mercy;
  and mercy rejoiceth against judgment St. James ii: 13.

When Opuhara fell, his men lost courage, retreated, and were not
pursued. The death of Opuhara was deeply regretted by Tati, his near
relative and successor in the government of the district. In the ranks
of his followers it was firmly believed Opuhara, few as his forces were,
would have vanquished the enemy, had not the native missionaries been
taught to shoot as they were taught to pray, and been supplied with guns
along with Bibles. With the death of Opuhara the last hope of the
natives was dissipated and submission to Pomare's rule became a stern
reality. Neither the missionaries nor the natives had any idea of
allowing Pomare to recede into his old ways. They made him refrain from
massacre or revenge after the battle of Fei-pi. Tati, the chief of
Papara, maintained peace from that time by his wise rule in that part of
the island. He began by the usual island custom of binding Pomare to him
by the strongest possible ties. The rapid extinction of chiefly families
in Tahiti had left the head chief of Moorea heir to most of the
distinguished names and properties in both islands. Marama, the head
chief of Moorea, had only one heir, a daughter, a relative of Pomare.
This great heiress, almost the last remnant of the three or four sacred
families of the two islands, was given by Pomare in marriage to Tati's
son, immediately after Tati himself was restored to his rights as head
chief of the Tevas. In doing so he claimed for his own the first child
that Marama (the bride) should have and made at the same time a compact
that the children from the marriage should marry into the Pomare family.
These conditions were made to render himself more influential with the
most refractory of the conquered tribes. Pomare II. died December 7,
1821, leaving a daughter, Aimata, and a son, Pomare III., a child in
arms. Aimata was never regarded with favor by Pomare, her father, who
was frank in saying that she was not his child; so the infant son was
made heir to the throne. Moerenhout made the statement that Pomare, on
his deathbed, expressed the wish that Tati should take the reins of the
government in his hands, but that the missionaries and other chiefs were
afraid to trust Tati, and preferred to take the charge of the infant
king on themselves. The missionaries in due time went through the formal
ceremony of crowning the infant, April 22, 1824, at Papara, and then
took him to their school, the South Sea Academy, which was established
in March, 1824, in the island of Moorea at Papetoai. There he was taught
to read and write, and educated in English, which became his language,
until he was seven years old, when he fell ill, and was taken over to
his mother at Pare, where he died January 11, 1827. During the reign of
the infant king, Mata, a friend of the family, managed the affairs of
state and became the guardian of Aimata, as the Queen, Pomare IV., was
always called by the natives. Aimata was married at the age of nine
years. She led an unhappy life, domestic, political, private and public,
until at last the missionaries, English and French, fought so violently
for control of her and the island that she was actually driven away.

Among other laws which were supposed to have been passed through the
influence of the English missionaries, to prevent strangers from
obtaining influence in the island, was one dated March 1, 1833,
forbidding strangers, under any pretext, from marrying in Tahiti or
Moorea. Ariitaimai, of noble birth, the historian of Tahiti, was not
inclined to marry a native chief, a decision which met the approval of
Marama, her mother. She finally consented to become the wife of Mr.
Salmon, an Englishman, who was held in high esteem and consideration in
the island; and Aimata suspended the law in order to enable her friend
to be married to the man of her choice. The missionaries virtually ruled
the island for forty years.

WARS BETWEEN PROTESTANT AND CATHOLIC MISSIONARIES

In 1836 two French missionary priests landed at Tahiti to convert, not
pagans, but Protestants to the Roman Catholic faith. The Protestant
missionaries, who held the reins of the government, indignant at this
interference, invoked the aid of the British consul, Pritchard, who
caused the Queen to order their arrest and expulsion. The order was
executed December 12, 1836. The two priests made a protest to their
government, and King Louis Philippe sent a frigate to Papeete with the
usual ultimatum, to which the Queen naturally acceded. Then began a
struggle on the part of Consul Pritchard and the English missionaries to
recover their ground, which led to a letter from Queen Pomare to Queen
Victoria, suggesting a British protectorate, whereupon the French
government sent another warship to Tahiti, in 1839, and made Aimata
repeat her submission. As the British government at that time did not
take much interest in missionaries, and Sir Robert Peel had a very
precise knowledge of the value of unclaimed islands all over the world,
Queen Victoria did not accept the proposition made by the Tahitian
Queen, and the missionaries were again thrown on their own resources.



The chiefs ignored the missionaries, and in September, 1841, decided
that, between such powers as England and France, they could not hope to
maintain independence or even a good understanding, and since England
refused the proffered protectorate, they would turn to France. So they
drew up the necessary papers for the Queen to approve, but a British war
vessel arrived in that critical moment, and this reenforcement of
British interests induced the vacillating Queen to refuse to sign them.
The next August another French naval force arrived, and the chiefs again
met in council, with the admiral's aid and advice. The chiefs sent the
following letter to the French admiral, Du Petit—Tuhouars:

  Inasmuch as we can not continue to govern ourselves so as to live on
  good terms with foreign governments, and we are in danger of losing
  our island, our kingdom, and our liberty, we, the Queen and the high
  chiefs of Tahiti, write to ask the King of the French to take us under
  his protection.

In response to this formal request the French admiral, on September 30,
1842, hoisted the flag of the protectorate. This did not end the
political and religious troubles of the little island. Consul Pritchard,
who had been absent from his post for some time, returned from England
February 23, 1843, and declared violent war against the French. As
usual, Queen Pomare yielded to his wishes, and refused to obey those of
the French admiral. The admiral lost his patience and temper, landed
troops and took possession of the island, declared the Queen deposed,
and, when disturbances arose, which he believed to be fomented and
fostered by Pritchard, he arrested him and had him expelled from the
island. This act excited much attention, both in the English and French
press, which resulted in an order from the King of France to the admiral
to restore the protectorate.

It will be seen that the last wars of Tahiti were caused by a religious
intolerance on the part of the English missionaries, who objected to the
presence of two Roman Catholic priests in the island. European
governments were appealed to and had to interfere in establishing in the
island free religious thought. It was a fight between two religious
denominations which kept the natives in a state of warfare, a most
serious reflection on Christian charity,

  Alas for the rarity

  Of Christian charity

  Under the sun.

  HOOD.

The constant unrest of the islanders caused by outside interference
provoked frequent rebellions, for "general rebellions and revolts of an
whole people never were encouraged, now or at any time; they are always
provoked."

The two priests, bent upon a humane mission, who, by their presence in
Tahiti, without any fault of their own, incurred the enmity of the
Protestant missionaries, were the direct cause of French intervention
which resulted in the protectorate and later annexation of the island.
The priests remained, new ones came, and today nearly one-half of the
population of the island are members of the Roman Catholic church.

The teachings and example of the English missionaries and their conduct
toward the Catholic priests prove only too plainly:

  Christian graces and virtues they can not be, unless fed, invigorated
  and animated by universal charity.

  ATTERBURY.



THE LAST WAR

  Our country sinks beneath the yoke;

  It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash

  Is added to her wounds.

  SHAKESPEARE.

The disturbances which preceded and followed the establishment of the
French protectorate induced the Queen to seek safety on a British ship,
and the whole Pomare following took up arms and established themselves
in the stronghold of native power and influence near Papeete. Another
civil war broke out which waged between the natives and Europeans from
1844 to 1845. Tired of foreign dictation and oppression, the natives
fought with desperation. Forts, which remain today in a good state of
preservation, were erected by natives and the French. Most of the ruins
of these forts are scattered along the ninety-mile drive between Papeete
and Papara. From time to time, determined attacks were made with varying
fortunes of war. The natives were superior in number but could not stand
up against the well-directed firearms of the professional soldiers. A
last and crushing attack was ordered by the French admiral, which meant
certain defeat for the natives.

It was at this critical time that a woman came to the rescue of her
people and prevented a wholesale slaughter of the heroic defenders of
the island. This woman was Ariitaimai, the authoress of the book we have
been following so closely in sketching the history of the island. She
was the daughter of the famous Marama, of Moorea, the wife of Mr.
Salmon, and the mother of Tati Salmon, the present chief of Papara. She
recognized the hopelessness of the cause of her people and determined to
prevent further useless bloodshed and establish peace. It required good
judgment and a great deal of courage to undertake the task which she
finally accomplished with such a brilliant success. She was one of those
who believed that

  Almost all difficulties may be got the better of by prudent thought,
  revolving and pondering much in the mind.

  MARCELLINUS.

She was intensely patriotic and had no fear of the results of her daring
mission. She was very popular with the natives and well known to the
French authorities, which aided her very much in formulating and
carrying out her plans. She had no time to lose, as the decisive attack
on her countrymen had been ordered and was to take place the next day.
She called on Bruaat, the governor of the island, with the determined
intention to end the war. He granted her twenty-four hours to accomplish
her task. She then called a meeting of the head chiefs and urged them to
surrender on the conditions stipulated by the French, in view of the
hopelessness of the island's cause. At that time this woman was the most
conspicuous figure in the politics of the island, loved and respected by
the chiefs and the people throughout Tahiti and Moorea. The head chiefs
received her proposition with favor. Notable speeches complimentary to
her were made on this occasion. One chief said:

  Ariitaimai, you have flown amongst us, as it were, like the two birds,
  Ruataa and Toena. Your object was to join together Urarii and Mauu,
  and you have brought them into this valley. You have brought the
  cooling medicines of _vainu_ and _mahainuieumu_ into the hearts of the
  chiefs that are collected here. Our hearts yearn for you, and we can
  not in words thank you; but the land, one and all, will prove to you
  in the future that your visit will always remain in their memory. You
  have come personally. I have heard you speak the words out of your own
  mouth. You have brought us the best of all goods, which is peace. You
  have done this when you thought we were in great trouble, and ran the
  risk of losing our lives and property; you have come forward as a
  peacemaker for us all.

What beautiful thoughts in simple, homely language! What a splendid
specimen of natural oratory!

  In oratory, affectation must be avoided; it being better for a man by
  a native and clear eloquence to express himself than by those words
  which may smell either of the lamp or ink-horn.

  LORD HERBERT OF CHERBURY.

The chiefs unanimously accepted the terms of peace, and after the
adjournment of the council, Ariitaimai hastened to Papeete with the
message of the chiefs, which was accepted, and once more the
protectorate flag was raised and was recognized and respected by the
chiefs and the people. During all these great final trials of the
island, the Queen remained in the island of Moorea and even after peace
was restored and she was formally requested to return, she refused to do
so. The French authorities offered the crown repeatedly to Ariitaimai,
but as often, she refused the great honor. The exiled Queen was her
intimate and dear friend and

  Ennuis has well remarked that "a real friend is known in adversity."

  CICERO.

She was content with having accomplished a patriotic deed and with the
respect, love and gratitude of her people.

  So true it is, that honor, prudently declined, often comes back with
  increased lustre.

  LIVIUS.

She could say:

  Give me a staff of honour for mine age;

  But not a sceptre to control the world.

  SHAKESPEARE.

and

  Tis less to conquer than to make wars cease,

  And, without fighting, awe the world to peace.

  HALIFAX.

Ariitaimai made several visits to the unhappy Queen, urging her to
return and resume her reign of the island, and had the satisfaction,
finally, to bring her back from Raiatea on her third visit.

  True friends visit us in prosperity only when invited, but in
  adversity they come without invitation.

  THEOPHRASTUS.

The Queen, on her return, was received with regal honors by the French
authorities and by the people.

Pomare V. was the last of the kings of Tahiti. He was the oldest son of
Queen Pomare IV. and known as Ariiane Pomare. He was married to Marau
Taawa Salmon, Tati Salmon's sister, and had two daughters:
Teriimii-o-Tahiti, and Arii mainhinihi. Under European influences and
customs he became a degenerate Tahitian, profligate and dissipated, and
it is said that he was largely responsible for the annexation of the
island to France as a colony in 1880, as he received a substantial
remuneration for his influence in that direction and a pension of sixty
thousand francs a year. He died in 1891. Since Tahiti has become a
French possession the island has enjoyed uninterrupted peace. The French
government has been exceedingly liberal with the natives, having
interfered as little as possible with their habits and customs.

  That is the best government which desires to make the people happy,
  and knows how to make them happy.

  MACAULEY.

The island is governed under the French laws, but local laws and tribal
rule remain and administer the local affairs. In completing the eventful
history of this little island it becomes apparent:

  What is public history but a register of the successes and
  disappointments, the vices, the follies and quarrels of those engaged
  in the contention for power.

  PALEY.

The government has established and enforced religious liberty, observing
the precept: "The protection of religion is indispensable to all
government" (Bishop Warburton). Taxation is limited to road tax only.
The annexation was looked upon with great disfavor by the natives, but
was finally accepted with good grace, and peace and happiness have
reigned since.

THE NATIVES

The Polynesians inhabiting the islands of the great Pacific Ocean
constitute a distinct race of people, supposed at one time by certain
writers to be of American origin, now almost universally admitted to
have a close affinity with the Malays of the peninsula and Indian
Archipelago, and hence classified by Dr. Latham under his subdivision
_Oceanica Mongolidæ_. In physical structure and appearance the Polynesians
in general more nearly resemble the Malays than they do any other race,
although differing from them in some respects, as, indeed, the natives
of several of the groups also do from each other. Centuries and
environment have left their impress on the inhabitants of the different
islands, as

  Everything that is created is changed by the laws of man; the earth
  does not know itself in the revolution of years; even the races of man
  assume various forms in the course of years.

  MANILIUS.



In stature the Tahitian compares well with any other race. The face is
expressive of more than ordinary intelligence. The color of the skin
varies from almost black to a light yellow. The aquiline nose is
commonly seen among them, and there are many varieties of hair and
complexion. In complexion they resemble more nearly the Japanese than
the Chinese. The beard is thin, the prevailing hair jet black, straight,
wavy or curly, profuse and long; eyes large and black; no drooping or
obliquity of eyelids. The face is generally roundish; lower jaw well
developed; no unusual malar prominences; forehead slightly receding;
mouth large, lips thick and as a rule slightly everted; wide nostrils;
ears large; chin prominent. The general resemblance of stature and
physiognomy, however, is more with the Malays than any other race, and
from which they are undoubtedly the descendants, changed by climatic
influences, food, habits and methods of living. In physical appearance
the Tahitians and Samoans are the handsomest and tallest of all the
natives of the Pacific Islands, with the exception, perhaps, of the
Maoris, or New Zealanders.

The superstition of the taboo, the use of kava as an intoxicating drink,
cannibalism, infanticide, offering of human sacrifices, tattooing, and
circumcision, which were formerly prevalent in Tahiti, have disappeared
under the influence of Christianity.

Much has been said about the beauty of some of the women of the South
Sea Islands, but I am sure I do them no injustice if I say that these
descriptions are overdrawn by sentimental writers and do not correspond,
when put to the test of comparison, with the reality. When young, there
is something fascinating about the women, imparted by the luxurious
jet-black hair, the large black eyes as they gaze at the strangers

  With a smile that is childlike and bland.

  FRANCIS BRET HARTE.

Beauty and youth among the Tahitian women are of short duration, and in
most of them advanced age brings an undesirable degree of corpulence.

Cook visited these people when they were in their original physical and
moral state. He praises their openness and generosity. "Neither does
care ever seem to wrinkle their brow. On the contrary, even the approach
of death does not appear to alter their usual vivacity. I have seen
them, when brought to the brink of the grave by disease, and when
preparing to go to battle; but in neither case, never observed their
countenance overclouded with melancholy, or serious reflection. Such a
disposition leads them to direct all their aims only to what can give
them pleasure and ease."

  The whole countenance is a certain silent language of the mind.

  CICERO.

These mental traits have been preserved up to the present time.
Melancholy and suicide are almost unknown in Tahiti. The people are
happy, contented and free from care and anxiety and

  Enjoy the pleasures of the passing hour, and bid adieu for a time to
  grave pursuits.

  HORATIUS.

They seem to know that

  Care and the desire for more

  Attend the still increasing store.

  HORATIUS.

Desire for great wealth does not exist among the natives. Nature has
supplied them with nearly all they need, hence little remains for them
to do to meet their modest desires.

Religion has not done away entirely with superstition, and has improved
their morals little, if any. Old European residents of Papeete agree
that the morality of the natives has not improved since they have been
under the influence of civilization, forced on them by the European
invaders. The greatest fault of the people is their incurable laziness,
a vice for which they are not entirely responsible, as Nature has
provided so bountifully for their needs. Robbery, stealing and murder
are almost unknown; petty thefts, on the contrary, are quite common. The
people, young and old, are affable, extremely courteous and hospitable
to a fault; the family ties strong, and extending to the remotest
relatives.

  Man is a social animal, and born to live together so as to regard the
  world as one house.

  SENECA.

Nowhere in the world are the people more sociable than in Tahiti. This
sociability was perhaps more pronounced before the island was discovered
than it is now, but it remains to this day as one of the prominent
characteristics of the Polynesian race. Respect and love for parents,
strong attachments to relatives and friends, are striking virtues of the
Tahitians. They love social intercourse and have the highest regard for
friendship. Poverty and misfortunes do not intercept friendships, on the
contrary they cement them more firmly.

  The firmest friendships have been formed in mutual adversity; as iron
  is most strongly united by the fiercest flames.

  COLTON.

Before European influence had made itself felt in the island, each tribe
constituted a large family, and property lines were not sharply defined.
As long as there was anything to eat, no one was left hungry. The
Tahitians are extremely fond of mingling with their relatives, friends,
members of the same and other tribes. They appreciate to the fullest
extent that "we have been born to unite with fellow-men, and to join in
community with the human race" (Cicero). They treat old age with
reverence and respect, and take the very best care of the sick and poor.

  Unity of feelings and affections is the strongest relationship.

  PUBLIUS SYRUS.



Under the teachings of the missionaries, Protestant and Catholic,
paganism has disappeared from the island. All are church-members and
attend service regularly. The denominations represented are the
Episcopalians, Catholics and Latter-day Saints in above numerical order.
Most of the priests and preachers are natives. Christianity, has,
however, failed to suppress immorality and do away entirely with the
inborn superstition of the natives. The former evil is firmly rooted,
the latter difficult of complete eradication.

  Nothing has more power over the multitude than superstition: in other
  respects powerless, ferocious, fickle, when it is once captivated by
  superstitious notions, it obeys its priests better than its leaders.

  QUINTUS CURTIUS RUFUS.

Wicked habits are productive of vice, and vice follows long-standing
habits. The Tahitians are by nature kind, affectionate, and their
opinions are easily moulded for good or bad, but many of their customs
and habits cling to them in spite of civilization and Christianization,
for "how many unjust and wicked things are done from mere habit!"
(Terentius); and "so much power has custom over tender minds"
(Virgilius).

The children of Tahiti are given excellent opportunities for obtaining a
good elementary education. In all of the larger villages there is a
government school, usually two churches. Catholic and Protestant, and
their respective parochial schools. The natives love their language and
are averse to the French, hence, as a rule, the parochial are better
patronized than the government schools. The literature in the Tahitian
language is limited to translations of the Bible, catechisms, religious
song books and a few school books. Children of the better classes who
seek a higher education, go abroad, in preference to the United States.
Few show any ambition to enter any of the professions with the exception
of the clerical. The mass of the people are content in leading an easy,
dreamy life, showing no disposition either to acquire wealth or fame.
Agriculture, manufacture and commerce have no attraction for them. They
are children from the cradle to the grave, have the desires of children,
and are pleased with what pleases children. Their tastes are simple,
their desires few, and instead of in care and worry, they live through
their span of life in peace of mind and contentment.

  But if men would live according to reason's rules, they would find the
  greatest riches to live content with little, for there is never want
  where the mind is satisfied.

  LUCRETIUS.

In contrast to the Westerner, the favored Tahitian can say:

  I have everything, yet have nothing; and although I possess nothing,
  still of nothing am I in want.

  TERRENCE.

The natives are temperate in drinking, and frugal in eating. Fish and
fruit are their principal articles of diet. Their habits in this
direction have not undergone much change since Captain Cook wrote:

  Their common diet is made up of at least nine-tenths vegetable food;
  and, I believe, more particularly, the _mahee_, or fermented breadfruit,
  which enters almost every meal, has a remarkable effect upon them,
  preventing a costive habit, and producing a very sensible coolness
  about them, which could not be perceived in us who fed on animal food.
  And it is, perhaps, owing to this temperate course of life that they
  have so few diseases among them.

Smoking is indulged in only to a moderate extent, cigarettes and pipe
being the favorite methods of consuming the weed.

Art has never had a place in the minds of the Tahitians. All attempts in
this direction in design, carving and sculpture, are rude. Like all
primitive peoples, they are fond of music. Their voices are sweet, but
the airs of their music are monotonous. The primitive drum, and a little
crude instrument made of bamboo, something like a flute, placed in one
of the nostrils when played, are the instruments in most common use. The
national dance, formerly the principal amusement of the people, is
discouraged by the government, but is allowed once a year as a special
favor to the natives.

FOREIGNERS IN TAHITI

Most of the foreigners who remain permanently in Tahiti become attached
to the island by marriage, the strongest possible incentive to make it
their permanent home. Many of these men are adventurers. Some of them
have honest intentions to make this beautiful island their permanent
home. Far away from their place of birth and relatives, charmed by the
beauties of the island, they conclude:

  I will take some savage woman; she shall rear my dusky race.

  TENNYSON.

In many instances such unions have resulted very happily. On the voyage
from San Francisco to Tahiti, I met Mr. George R. Richardson, a native
of Springfield, Mass., who had lived for the last thirty years, with his
native wife on the little atoll island, Kaukuaia of the Tuamotu group,
one hundred and sixty-eight miles from Tahiti. He was suffering from
carcinoma of the esophagus, and was returning from San Francisco,
whither he had gone for medical advice. His parents were still living,
but he had no desire to visit the place of his birth, so fully had he
become acclimated to the climatic and native conditions of the Society
Islands. He was then fifty-five years of age. He left the United States
March 4, 1874, on a sailing vessel, and six months later landed at
Tahxa. In six months he had obtained a fair knowledge of the native
language, and married in Kaukuaia a woman who could not speak a word of
English. This union resulted in sixteen children, three of whom died,
six girls and seven boys living at the present time, and of these, three
girls and two boys are married. Through his wife he inherited from her
mother five acres of land with three thousand cocoanut-palms. To this
land he obtained a legal ownership eight years ago by virtue of a law of
legal registration passed by the government. The island on which he
lives contains only one hundred and fifty inhabitants and the only
income is obtained from copra and mother-of-pearl.



The inhabitants of this island are Catholics and Mormons. A Catholic
priest comes once a month to minister to the spiritual needs of the
adherents to the faith of his church. The services of both denominations
are conducted in the native language. He and a Frenchman are the only
white inhabitants of the island.

On February 16, 1878, a great storm overflooded the island and our
American, who spent a whole night in the crown of a cocoanut tree, lost
everything. Only five thousand cocoanut trees were left on the whole
island. A man-of-war came from Tahiti three days later and ministered to
the urgent needs of the survivors.

The inhabitants of this little island suffer frequently from malaria and
grippe. The latter disease returns regularly almost every year. Of the
remaining diseases, diarrhea and dysentery are the most common.
Tuberculosis is prevalent and claims many victims. This island has now a
population of one hundred and fifty, and during his residence he has
never seen a physician, although the inhabitants were frequently in need
of medical services. He was obliged to render his wife assistance at the
birth of all of his children, and strangely, each time without any
mishap, either to mother or child. What happened on that island must
have happened on the many other distant islands under similar
circumstances. Here, like elsewhere, in the South Sea Islands, are
medicine-men who attend to tooth-pulling, and, when any cutting is to be
done, a scalpel is made of a piece of glass. In case of sickness they
make use of roots and herbs of their own gathering.

BUSINESS IN TAHITI

The Tahitian is not a business man. What little business is transacted
in the island is done by foreigners. The larger stores in Papeete are
owned and managed by French, Germans and Americans. The smaller stores
in the city, and nearly all small shops in the villages, are in the
hands of Chinamen.

The fertile soil of Tahiti is not made use of to any considerable
extent. The sugar industry has been tried but has been entirely
abandoned, owing to high wages for labor and exorbitant freight rates.
The principal articles of export are copra, cocoanuts, vanilla-beans and
mother-of-pearl shells. Copra (dried meat of cocoanut), brings three
cents a kilo and cocoanuts are sold at a cent apiece. The raising of
vanilla-beans was a paying industry five years ago, when they commanded
a price of seventeen dollars a pound, and were then eagerly sought for
in the market, as they were considered superior in flavor to those of
any other country. The Chinamen have ruined this source of income as
well as the reputation of the product. These shrewd business men control
the local market completely and go from place to place long before
harvest-time, buy the whole crop for the year for cash, and have the
beans picked before they are ripe and mature them artificially. The
result of such dishonest transactions has been that, owing to the poor
quality of the beans thus treated, the price of the article has been
reduced to three or four dollars per pound.

The vanilla-bean grows best in the shady forests, and requires but
little attention except artificial fertilization of the flowers and
picking of the beans. In the West Indies the numerous insects fertilize
the monogamous flowers; in this island, this has to be done largely by
artificial fecundation. Women and children do this work. With a sharp
little stick, the pollen is taken from the anthers and rubbed over the
stigma of the pistil. A child who is active can fertilize fifteen
hundred flowers a day. It is a great pity that this industry has been
cheapened by the avaricious Chinamen, as it is an industry that requires
very little labor and should be remunerative, as the soil and climate
are peculiarly well adapted for the cultivation of this valuable
aromatic.

Most of the fruit which grows in Tahiti is too perishable for
transportation and is consequently very cheap. The largest and most
luscious pineapples can be bought for three cents apiece, oranges
one-fourth of a cent. Alligator pears, the finest fruit grown anywhere,
are sold at the market for two and three cents apiece. At the time of my
visit, eggs were sold at forty cents a dozen. Meat, with the exception
of pork, is imported from New Zealand and the United States. Most of the
native families raise hogs, and this animal is found also in a wild
state in the jungles of the forests.

The wages, for this island, are rather high. An ordinary laborer is paid
seventy-five cents a day, and the women who are willing to work can earn
fifty cents a day. The average Tahitian works only long enough to
procure the necessities of life, and, as these are few, it is difficult
to find men and women for ordinary labor and housework.

The fact that there is no bank in the whole island shows that the amount
of money which circulates among the people is very small. Some
enterprising American attempted to establish a telephone line encircling
the island, but lack of patronage soon paralyzed the undertaking. The
island is a place for a dreamy, easy existence, and not for business.

The communication with the outside world is carried on by two regular
steamer lines, one from San Francisco, the other from Auckland, but both
of these lines are supported by liberal government subsidies to make
them remunerative, as the passenger traffic and the exports and imports
of the island would not suffice to make them independent of government
aid.

OLD TAHITI

  What will not length of time be able to change?

  CLAUDIANUS.

Tahiti is exceedingly interesting to-day, but how much more so must it
have been to Captain Wallis and his crew, who first set their eyes on
this gem of the Pacific! When the _Dolphin_ came in sight of this
beautiful island that never before had been seen by a white man, we can
readily imagine officers and crew straining their eyes to see first its
rugged outlines, and later the details of the wonderful landscapes.
Under the blue sky and lighted up by the vigorous rays of the tropic
sun, they could see the mountain-peaks clothed in the verdure of a
tropic forest, the little island set like a gem in the ocean, and, as
they beheld these mountains and turned their eyes upward they could also
see

  They were canopied by the blue sky, so cloudless, clear, and purely
  beautiful that God alone was to be seen in heaven.

  BYRON.



As they approached nearer and saw the natural wealth of the island and
its happy inhabitants basking in the sunshine, eating what Nature had
provided for them without care or toil on their part, they must have
come to the unavoidable conclusion that they at last had found a land
where

  There was a never-ending spring, and flowers unsown were kissed by the
  warm western breeze. Then the unploughed land gave forth corn, and the
  ground, year after year, was white with full ears of grain. Rivers of
  milk, rivers of nectar ran, and the yellow honey continued to pour
  from the ever-green oak.

  OVIDIUS.

On landing, having overcome the animosity of the natives and ascertained
the boundless resources of the island, they could not escape the
conviction that they in their wanderings over the limitless sea, had at
last found "a heaven on earth" (Milton).

What wonderful stories those men must have brought to Europe on their
return after the long and hazardous voyage, when they related what they
had seen in Tahiti, then in its primitive native state! Captain Cook
made a longer stay in the island on his first visit and had therefore a
better opportunity to study the island, its resources and its
interesting inhabitants. It is on his descriptions we will rely in
giving an account of some of the traits, customs and habits of the
people as they existed at that time.

RELIGION OF THE NATIVES

  Every one is, in a small degree, the image of God.

  MANLIUS.

The most primitive of all races have some conception of a divinity and a
life hereafter, for

  A god has his abode within our breast; when he rouses us, the glow of
  inspiration warms us; this holy rapture springs from the seeds of the
  divine mind sown in man.

  OVIDIUS.

Let us listen to Captain Cook concerning the religion of the Tahitians
before they knew the name of God and the story of the Saviour while on
earth:

  The common people have only a very vague idea of the religious
  sentiments of the race, but the priests, who are quite numerous, have
  established quite an extensive and somewhat complicated system. They
  do not worship one God, as possessing preeminence; but believe in a
  plurality of divinities, who are all supposed to be very powerful,
  and, as different parts of the island, and the other islands in the
  neighborhood, have different ones, the inhabitants of such, no doubt,
  think that they have chosen the most potent and considerate one. Their
  devotion in serving their gods is remarkably conspicuous. Not only the
  whattas or offering-places of the morals are commonly loaded with
  fruits and animals, but there are few houses lacking a small place of
  the same sort. Many of them are so impressed with their obligations to
  their divinity that they will not begin a meal without first laying
  aside a morsel for their Eatooa (their god).

  Their prayers are also very frequent, which they chant, much after the
  manner of songs, in their festive entertainments. They also believe in
  an evil spirit, they call Etee, who sometimes does them mischief, and
  to whom, as well as to their god, they make offerings.

  But the mischiefs they fear from any superior invisible beings are
  confined only to temporal things. They believe the soul to be both
  immaterial and immortal. They say that it keeps fluttering about the
  lips during the pangs of death, and that then it ascends and mixes
  with, or, as they express it, is eaten by the deity. In this state it
  remains for some time; after which it departs to a certain place
  destined for the reception of the souls of men, where it exists in
  eternal night, or, as they sometimes say, in twilight or dawn. They
  have no idea of any permanent punishment after death for crimes that
  they have committed on earth. They believe in the recognition of
  relatives and friends after death and in resuming the same relations
  as on earth. If the husband dies first, the soul of his wife is known
  to him on its arrival in the land of spirits. They resume their former
  acquaintance, in a spacious house, where the souls of the deceased
  assemble to recreate themselves with the gods. From here man and wife
  retire to their own habitation, where they remain forever.

  The most singular part of their faith consists in claiming that not
  only man, but all other animals, trees, fruit and even stones are
  endowed with a soul, which at death, or upon being consumed or broken,
  ascends to the divinity, with whom they first mix, and afterward pass
  into the mansion allotted to each.

The temples of the Tahitians were the maraes, enclosures of stones,
where the offerings were rendered, and on certain occasions human beings
were sacrificed. The largest marae ever built in Tahiti is located at
Papara and the ruins of it remain to-day. At the time of Captain Cook's
visit there were numerous maraes all over the island, which served as
places of worship, sacrifice and burial. The supreme chief of the whole
island was always housed in a marae and after his death the marae was
appropriated to his family and some of the principal people. Such a
marae differed little from the common ones, except in extent. Its
principal part is a large, oblong pile of stones, lying loosely upon
each other, about twelve or fourteen feet high, contracted towards the
top, with a square area on each side, loosely packed with pebble stones,
under which the bones of the chiefs are buried. At a little distance
from the end nearest the sea is the place where the sacrifices are
offered, which, for a considerable extent, is also loosely paved. There
is here a very large scaffold, or whatta, on which the offerings, and
other vegetables, are laid. But the animals are deposited on a smaller
one, already mentioned, and the human sacrifices are buried under
different parts of the pavement. The marae is the altar of other
nations. The skulls of the human sacrifices, after a few months, are
exhumed and preserved in the marae.

Captain Cook counted forty-nine such skulls in the marae in which he
witnessed the human sacrifice.



Cannibalism did not exist in Tahiti when the island was discovered, but
human sacrifices were quite frequently offered as a kind of religious
ceremony to appease the anger or displeasure of some offended god. The
victims were tramps and persons of no vocation. They were either clubbed
or stoned to death by persons designated for this purpose by the
priests. On Saturday, August 30, 1777, while Captain Cook was stationed
at Matavai for the purpose of observing the transit of Venus, he
received a message that on the following day a human sacrifice would be
made at Attahura, to Eatooa, to implore the assistance of the deity
against the inhabitants of the island of Moorea, who were then in a
state of war with Tahiti. Towha, a chief and relative of the then
reigning king, had killed a man for the sacrifice. Captain Cook, with
several friends, accompanied King Otoo to witness the ceremony, and
describes the event in detail:

  On our way we landed upon a little island, which lies off Tettaha,
  where we found Towha and his retinue. After some little conversation
  between the two chiefs, on the subject of the war, Towha addressed
  himself to me, asking my assistance. When I excused myself, he seemed
  angry; thinking it strange I, who had always declared myself to be the
  friend of their island, should not go and fight against its enemies.
  Before we parted he gave to Otoo two or three red feathers, tied up in
  a tuft; and a lean, half-starved dog was put in a canoe that was to
  accompany us. We then embarked again, taking on board a priest who was
  to assist at the solemnity. As soon as we landed at Attahura, which
  was about two o'clock in the afternoon, Otoo expressed his desire that
  the seamen might be ordered to remain in the boat, and that Mr.
  Anderson, Mr. Webber and myself might take off our hats as soon as we
  should come to the marai, to which we immediately proceeded, attended
  by a great many men, and some boys, but not one woman. We found four
  priests and their attendants, or assistants, waiting for us.

  The dead body, or sacrifice, was in a small canoe that lay on the
  beach and partly in the water of the sea, fronting the marai. Two of
  the priests, with some of the attendants, were sitting by the canoe,
  the others at the marai. Our company stopped about twenty or thirty
  paces from the priests. Here Otoo placed himself; we, and a few others
  standing by him, while the bulk of the people remained at a greater
  distance. The ceremony now began. One of the priest's attendants
  brought a young plantain tree, and laid it down before Otoo. Another
  approached with a small tuft of red feathers, twisted on some fibres
  of the cocoanut husk, with which he touched one of the King's, feet
  and then retired with it to his companions. One of the priests, seated
  at the marai, facing those who were upon the beach, now began a long
  prayer; and, at certain times, sent down young plantain trees, which
  were laid upon the sacrifice. During this prayer, a man, who stood by
  the officiating priest, held in his hands two bundles, seemingly of
  cloth. One of them, as we afterward found, was the royal Maro; and the
  other, if I may be allowed the expression, was the ark of the Eatooa.
  As soon as the prayer was ended, the priests at the marai, with their
  attendants, went and sat down by those upon the beach, carrying with
  them the two bundles. Here they renewed their prayers, during which
  the plantain trees were taken, one by one, at different times, from
  off the sacrifice, which was partly wrapped up in cocoa-leaves and
  small branches.

  It was now taken out of the canoe and laid upon the beach, with the
  feet to the sea. The priests placed themselves around it, some sitting
  and others standing; and one, or more of them, repeated sentences for
  about ten minutes. The dead body was now uncovered, by removing the
  leaves and branches, and laid in a parallel direction with the
  seashore. One of the priests then, standing at the feet of it,
  pronounced a long prayer, in which he was, at times, joined by the
  others, each holding in his hand a tuft of red feathers. In the course
  of this prayer, some hair was pulled off the head of the sacrifice,
  and the left eye taken out; both of which were presented to Otoo, and
  wrapped up in a green leaf. He did not, however, touch it; but gave,
  to the man who presented it, the tuft of feathers, which he had
  received from Towha. This, with the hair and the eye, was carried back
  to the priests. Soon after, Otoo sent to them another piece of
  feathers, which he had given me in the morning to keep in my pocket.
  During some part of this last ceremony, a kingfisher making a noise in
  the trees, Otoo turned to me saying, "That is the Eatooa;" and seemed
  to look upon it to be a good omen.

  The body was then carried a little way, with its head toward the
  marai, and laid under a tree, near which were fixed three broad, thin
  pieces of wood, differently but rudely carved. The bundles of cloth
  were laid on a part of the marai, and the tufts of red feathers were
  placed at the feet of the sacrifice, round which the priests took
  their stations, and we were now allowed to go as near as we pleased.
  He seemed to be the chief priest who sat at a small distance, and
  spoke for a quarter of an hour, but with different tones and gestures;
  so that he seemed often to expostulate with the dead person, to whom
  he constantly addressed himself, and sometimes asked several
  questions, seemingly with respect to the propriety of his having been
  killed. At other times, he made several demands, as if the deceased
  either now had power himself, or interest with the divinity, to engage
  him to comply with such requests. Among the petitions we understood,
  he asked him to deliver Eimeo (Moorea), Maheine its chief, the hogs,
  women and other things of the island into their hands; which was,
  indeed, the express intention of the sacrifice. He then chanted a
  prayer, which lasted nearly half an hour, in whining, melancholy tone,
  accompanied by two other priests, and in which Potatou and some others
  joined. In the course of this prayer, some more hair was plucked by a
  priest from the head of the corpse, and put upon one of the bundles.
  After this, the chief priest prayed alone, holding in his hand the
  feathers which came from Towha. When he had finished, he gave them to
  another, who prayed in like manner. Then all the tufts of the feathers
  were laid upon the bundles of cloth, which closed the ceremony at this
  place.

  The corpse was then carried up to the most conspicuous part of the
  marai, with the feathers, the two bundles of cloth, and the drums, the
  last of which beat slowly. The feathers and bundles were laid against
  the pile of stones, and the corpse at the foot of them. The priests
  having again seated themselves round it, renewed their prayers, while
  some of their attendants dug a hole about two feet deep, into which
  they threw the unhappy victim, and covered it over with earth and
  stones. While they were putting him into the grave, a boy squeaked
  aloud and Omai (Captain Cook's interpreter) said that it was the
  Eatooa.

  The human sacrifice was followed by the offering of dogs and pigs. The
  many prayers and complicated ceremonies attending human sacrifice
  stamp it as a religious rite which has undoubtedly been practiced for
  centuries. In this particular instance it meant a message through the
  instrumentality of the unfortunate victim to implore Eatooa for
  assistance in the impending war with Moorea.

It is very interesting indeed to have an account of this ceremony
preserved by an eyewitness like Captain Cook, and no apology is
necessary here to have it reappear in all its minute details. Another
religious ceremony of lesser import is circumcision. How this custom was
introduced into Tahiti no one knows. It is more than probable that, in
some way it came from the distant Orient in a modified form. It differs
from the Jewish rite in that it is not performed on infants, but on boys
approaching the age of puberty. Captain Cook gives the following
description of the operation as he observed it:

  When there are five or six lads pretty well grown up in a neighborhood
  the father of one of them goes to a Tahoua, or man of knowledge, and
  lets him know. He goes with the lads to the top of the hills, attended
  by a servant; and, seating one of them properly, introduces a piece of
  wood underneath the foreskin, and desires him to look aside at
  something he pretends is coming. Having thus engaged the young man's
  attention to another object, he cuts through the skin upon the wood,
  with a shark's tooth, generally at one stroke. He then separates, or
  rather turns back, the divided parts; and, having put on a bandage,
  proceeds to perform the same operation on the other lads. At the end
  of five days they bathe, and the bandages being taken off, the matter
  is cleaned away. At the end of five days more they bathe again, and
  are well; but a thickness of the prepuce, where it was cut, remaining,
  they go again to the mountains with the Tahoua and servant; and a fire
  being prepared, and some stones heated, the Tahoua puts the prepuce
  between two of them, and squeezes it gently, which removes the
  thickness. They then return home, having their heads and other parts
  of their bodies, adorned with odoriferous flowers, and the Tahoua is
  rewarded for his services by their fathers, in proportion to their
  several abilities, with presents of hogs and cloth; and if they be
  poor, their relations are liberal on the occasion.

How the wise man managed to keep the boys together during two such
painful ordeals is not easy to understand, but as they remained at their
posts until all had passed through it speaks volumes for their good
behavior and manly courage. That the Tahitians possessed many admirable
virtues during their paganism proves only too clearly that

  Virtue is shut out from no one; she is open to all, accepts all,
  invites all, gentlemen, freedmen, slaves, kings and exiles; she
  selects neither house nor fortune; she is satisfied with a human
  without adjuncts.

  SENECA.



These virtues, the prayers, the sacrifices, the belief in a supreme
being and eternity, show that the Tahitians were imbued with a natural
religion, for

  The existence of God is so many ways manifest and the obedience we owe
  Him so congruous to the light of reason, that a great part of mankind
  give testimony to the law of nature.

  LOCKE.

The natives had no literature nor any communication with the outside
world farther than the neighboring island groups. Their only book was
nature, and this was read and studied with eagerness and intelligence.
Their ancient history consisted of legendary lore handed down from
generation to generation. But

  There are books extant which they must needs allow of as proper
  evidence; even the mighty volumes of visible nature, and the
  everlasting tables of right reason.

  BENTLEY.

From century to century, from generation to generation, these people,
without leaving a permanent record of what had happened and without
being conscious of art or science, lived and died in a state of
happiness and contentment.

  For he had no catechism but the creation, needed no study but
  recollection, and read no book but the volume of the world.

  SOUTH.

That ignorance and vice should have existed among this primitive people,
so completely isolated from the progressive part of the world, is not
strange, as they lived in a land of plenty, fed and clothed, as it were,
by the almost unaided resources of nature, conditions largely
responsible for their inborn laziness. Ignorance and superstition go
hand in hand. The Tahitians have always been extremely superstitious and
both civilization and Christianization have been powerless in
eradicating this national evil. We must, however, judge them not too
severely in this matter, as superstition is by no means uncommon amongst
us at the present day. Our best poets are not exempt from it.

  I think it is the weakness of mine eyes

  That shapes this wondrous apparition:

  It comes upon me!

  SHAKESPEARE.

  Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth unseen, both when we
  wake and when we sleep.

  MILTON.

  A person terrified with the imagination of spectres is more reasonable
  than one who thinks the appearance of spirits fabulous and groundless.

  ADDISON.

With the progress and spread of education of the masses, superstition
will gradually be starved out here as elsewhere. The greatest vice of
the Tahitians is licentiousness, which remains as when Captain Cook
visited the island. In speaking of the looseness of the marital
relations, he says:

  And so agreeable is this licentious plan of life to their disposition,
  that the most beautiful of both sexes thus commonly spend their
  youthful days, habituated to the practice of enormities which would
  disgrace the most savage tribes, but are peculiarly shocking amongst a
  people whose general character in other respects has evident traces of
  the prevalence of humane and tender feelings.

The Tahitians have reason to claim that

  The vices collected through so many ages for a long time past flow in
  upon us.

  SENECA.

Intemperance among the natives has never had a firm foothold in the
island and tobacco is used with moderation. Gambling, such a common vice
among the peoples of the Orient, has never been cultivated and practiced
to any extent in Tahiti. These ocean-bound people, living in happy and
contented isolation, had no desire for national or personal wealth or
fame, neither had they any inclination or desire for art or the
sciences. They believed in the mottoes:

  If you are but content, you have enough to live upon with comfort.

  PLAUTUS.

and

  Ambition breaks the ties of blood, and forgets the obligations of
  gratitude.

  SIR WALTER SCOTT.

They lived a restful, unselfish life, happy in the companionship of
their families, relatives and friends, with no morbid desires to
distract them from the full enjoyment of what Nature showered upon them
with bountiful never-failing liberality.

  Their customs are by Nature wrought; But we, by art, unteach what
  Nature taught.

  DRYDEN.

THE INSIGNIA OF TAHITIAN ROYALTY

Tahitian royalty was hereditary, and women were not excluded. There were
chiefs and chiefesses governing tribes, and head chiefs and head
chiefesses ruling over several tribes or the whole island. There were no
crowns and no sceptres. The insignia of royalty was a belt ornamented
with feathers. The red feathers were what the diamonds and other
precious stones are in ancient and modern crowns. This belt was called
Maro. Captain Cook gives the following description of a maro:

  It is a girdle, about five yards long, and fifteen inches broad; and,
  from its name, seems to be put on in the same manner as is the common
  maro, or piece of cloth used by these people to wrap round the waist.
  It was ornamented with red and yellow feathers; but mostly with the
  latter, taken from a dove found upon the island. The one end was
  bordered with eight pieces, each about the size and shape of a
  horseshoe, having their edges fringed with black feathers. The other
  end was forked, and the points were of different lengths. The feathers
  were in square compartments, ranged in two rows, and otherwise so
  disposed to produce a pleasing effect. They had been first pasted or
  fixed upon some of their own cloth, and then sewed to the upper end of
  the pendant which Captain Wallis had displayed, and left flying
  ashore, the first time that he landed at Matavai.

This insignia of office was highly respected by the natives and was
handed down from one generation of rulers to the other, carrying with it
the sovereignty of the office. One of the civil wars in the island was
caused by a failure on the part of one of the chief esses (Purea) to
deliver the maro to her legitimate successor.

DISEASES OF TAHITI

Before the Europeans came to Tahiti, the beautiful little island was a
sanatorium. The natives were temperate, frugal in their habits,
subsisting almost exclusively on fish, fruit and vegetables, and lived
practically an outdoor life even in their bamboo huts. They were
unencumbered by useless clothing and spent, as they do now, much of
their time in sea and fresh-water bathing. They were almost exempt from
acute destructive diseases. They were free from the most fatal of acute
contagious and infectious diseases, such as smallpox, measles,
scarlatina, cholera, etc. Tuberculosis and venereal diseases were
unknown before the white man invaded the island. The immediate effect of
the European civilization on the health and lives of the natives was
frightful. On this subject I will let Ariitaimai speak:

  When England and France began to show us the advantages of their
  civilization, we were, as races then went, a great people. Hawaii,
  Tahiti, the Marquesas, Tonga, Samoa and New Zealand made a respectable
  figure on the earth's surface, and contained a population of no small
  size, better fitted than any other possible community for the
  condition in which they lived. Tahiti, being the first to come in
  close contact with the foreigners, was first to suffer. The people,
  who numbered, according to Cook, two hundred thousand in 1767,
  numbered less than twenty thousand in 1797, according to the
  missionaries, and only about five thousand in 1803. This frightful
  mortality has been often doubted, because Europeans have naturally
  shrunk from admit ting the horrors of their own work, but no one
  doubts it who belongs to the native race. Tahiti did not stand alone
  in misery; what happened there happened everywhere, not only in the
  great groups of high islands, like Hawaii with three or four hundred
  thousand people, but in little coral atolls which could only support a
  few score.



These are strong words, but they are nevertheless only too true.
Civilization brings to savage races curses as well as blessings. The
primitive people are more receptive of new vices than new virtues.

In 1880 the number of inhabitants had again increased to thirteen
thousand five hundred, but since that time it has been reduced to eleven
thousand, as shown by the last census. When Captain Cook visited the
island he emphasized particularly the absence of acute diseases. In
speaking of chronic diseases he remarks:

  They only reckon five or six which might be called chronic, or
  national disorders, amongst which are the dropsy and the _fefai_, or
  indolent swellings before mentioned as frequent at Tongataboo.

The fearful, swift depopulation of the island was caused by the
introduction of new acute infectious and contagious diseases, such as
smallpox, measles, whooping-cough, la grippe, etc., which among these
people was attended by a frightful mortality. It was only three years
ago that an epidemic of measles, a trifling disease with us, claimed
several hundred lives, including many adults, and extended to nearly all
of the islands of the entire group. The disease that is now threatening
the extinction of the race in a short time is pulmonary tuberculosis.
The natives are extremely susceptible to this disease, and the small
native houses, crowded with large families, are the breeding stations
for infection.

The French government has at last recognized the need of taking active
measures to improve the sanitary conditions of their colony and protect
the natives against the spread of infectious diseases. A corps of three
physicians, sent by the French government on this mission, made the
voyage from San Francisco to the island on the steamer _Mariposa_ with me.
The names of these physicians are: Dr. Grosfillez, surgeon-major of the
first class of the colonial troops; Dr. H. Rowan, a graduate of the
Pasteur Institute, and Dr. F. Cassiau, of the clinic of Marseilles. The
military surgeon receives an annual salary of fifteen hundred dollars,
the two civil doctors twelve hundred dollars each. They are under
contract for five years. They have been given judicial power to enforce
all sanitary regulations they see fit to institute. They will be
stationed at different points and will establish a requisite number of
lazarettos, something which will fill a long-felt and pressing need.



PRESENT PREVAILING DISEASES

The average temperature of the inhabited part of the island, which can
not be less than 78 to 80 degrees Fahrenheit, has a relaxing influence
on the natives and much more so on the small contingent of whites. The
Europeans and Americans find it necessary every three to five years to
seek for a few months a cooler climate to restore their energies and
vigor. The government officials and officers of the small garrison are
not obliged to serve for more than the same time consecutively, when
they are relieved from their posts and commands. It is this relaxation
which, to a certain extent, at least, is responsible for the great
mortality of comparatively mild, acute, infectious diseases, and the
severity of pulmonary tuberculosis among the natives. Tuberculosis of
the lymphatic glands, skin, bones and joints appears to be extremely
rare. The moisture-laden atmosphere and the suddenness with which the
cool land and ocean breezes set in after the heat of the day, are
conducive to the development of rheumatic affections, which are
prevalent in all parts of the island, more especially during the rainy
season in midwinter. The same can be said of bronchial affections and
pneumonia. The free and unrestrained intercourse among natives accounts
for the rapid spread of tuberculosis and acute infectious diseases among
the entire population and from island to island.

The sanitary commission now engaged, in efforts to reduce the mortality
of the natives will establish rules and regulations which will have for
their object the prevention of dissemination of acute as well as chronic
infectious diseases, and will undoubtedly accomplish much toward the
preservation of the race; but these officers will meet with stubborn
opposition on the part of the natives when attempts are made, in their
interest, to curtail their personal liberties. The ties of relationship
and friendship among the natives are very strong, and become most
apparent in case of misfortunes and sickness. Smallpox breaks out almost
every year, and claims its share of victims. Vaccination is supposed to
be compulsory, but the natives are inclined to escape it. Vaccination is
done gratuitously at the Military Hospital for all natives who can be
induced to submit to it. Under present conditions it is almost
impossible to reach the inhabitants of the small atoll islands.

Like in all tropic countries, tetanus is of quite frequent occurrence.
The small native pony is found everywhere, and as the rural natives are
all barefooted and spend much of their time in the jungles in
impregnating the flower of the vanilla-bean and gathering fruits, wounds
prone to infection with the tetanus bacillus are of frequent occurrence.

Malarial diseases are comparatively rare, although the
plasmodium-carrying mosquitoes are numerous and aggressive, and children
in the country districts are nude, and the men limit their clothing to
the wearing of a loin-cloth. No case of typhoid fever has been known to
have originated in the island. For this there exists a satisfactory
explanation. The exemption in this island from this disease, so widely
distributed over the entire part of the inhabited globe, is due entirely
to an abundant supply of the purest drinking water supplied by the
numerous mountain streams. Nearly all the inhabitants live on the coast,
near the outlet of a brook or stream, where, consequently, there is no
danger whatever of water-contamination. I found three cases of typhoid
fever in the Military Hospital, members of one family, who had been
brought there from one of the neighboring atoll islands.

Varicose veins, varicocele and hydrocele are very common. The absence of
anything like a large ulcer in many cases of large and numerous varicose
veins of the leg, I attributed to the toughness of the skin of the bare
legs. Venereal diseases are widespread throughout the entire island, and
more especially in Papeete and the near-by larger villages. For over a
hundred years the natives have suffered from this scourge brought there
by the European sailors and adventurers. Syphilis has been transmitted
from generation to generation until it has contaminated the major part
of the population, for

  The gods visit the sins of the fathers upon the children.

  EURIPIDES.

and

  The wickedness of a few brings calamity on all.

  PUBLIUS SYRUS.

The length of time the disease has existed among the natives has
established a certain degree of tolerance or immunity, as it pursues a
comparatively mild course, as I found very few instances of the ravages
of the remote results of syphilis. I saw only one case of saddle nose,
caused by tertiary syphilis.

Leprosy is not as prevalent as in the Hawaiian Islands, but isolated
cases are found in nearly all the islands belonging to this group, being
more prevalent in some than in others. Segregation has never been
attempted. The lepers mix freely with the members of their families and
neighbors, and are not shunned by any one. I was informed that many of
the lepers, much disfigured by the disease, seek an island where many of
these unfortunates have founded a colony for the purpose of escaping
from public gaze. There, away from relatives and friends, they spend
their short span of life and await patiently the final relief which only
death can bring.

  O Death, the Healer, scorn thou not, I pray. To come to me; of
  cureless ills thou art The one physician. Pain lays not its touch upon
  a corpse.

  ÆSCHYLUS.

Elephantiasis in its worst forms has taken a firm hold on the natives,
especially the inhabitants of the near-by island of Moorea. There this
disease can be studied in all its stages, from a slight enlargement of
one of the extremities to colossal swellings, which, when the upper and
lower extremities are affected at the same time, make it necessary for
the patient to crawl on his hands and feet in dragging himself from
place to place. Regarding elephantiasis as it exists in Tahiti and the
other islands of the French colony, I will make use of a few extracts
taken from a valuable paper on this subject by Dr. Lemoine, recently in
charge of the Military Hospital, and published in one of the government
reports. According to this author, who has seen much of this disease in
Tahiti and surrounding islands, it may affect most regions of the body,
and not infrequently makes its appearance as an acute affection with all
the symptoms characteristic of lymphangitis, including quite a violent
continued remittent form of fever, which lasts two or three months. The
acute form is, almost without exception, complicated by synovitis of the
joints of the affected limb, which he regards as almost pathognomonic of
the disease, differentiating it from ordinary forms of lymphangitis.
After the subsidence of the acute symptoms and in the chronic form the
disease is essentially a chronic lymphangitits, accompanied by marked
enlargement of the veins. According to his observations the regions most
frequently involved are the lower extremities, external genitals, and
lastly, the hands and forearms. Three years ago I was given an
opportunity to see at the hospital and poorhouse at Antigua, West
Indies, ninety cases of elephantiasis, and not in a single one of them
did the disease affect the upper extremity, while in the French colony
of the South Seas this is not infrequently the case. I do not know that
a satisfactory explanation has ever been given why the disease should
behave so differently in fixing its location in the two groups of
islands. Lemoine, as well as other writers on elephantiasis, has seen
the disease become stationary by the removal of the patient to a colder
climate. Europeans become susceptible to elephantiatic infection after a
prolonged residence in tropical countries where the disease prevails.

Lemoine does not agree with Manson, who believes that elephantiasis is
caused by the _Filaria sanguinis_, and is suspicious that the essential
parasitic cause is a yet undiscovered microbe. He made blood
examinations night and day of patients under his care, and was unable to
constantly detect the filariæ in their embryonic state in the peripheral
blood, and consequently claims that the presence of filaria in the
organism is not an infallible diagnostic indication, and that their
abundance is not proportionate to the intensity of the disease. The fact
that the elephantiatics improve in colder climates he regards as another
proof that filariasis is not the essential cause of the disease.



In a number of cases extirpation of the infiltrated enlarged lymphatic
glands was followed by decided improvement, and in the case of a
Tahitian the improvement remained at the end of three years. He has also
operated on a number of cases by partial excision of the mass, first on
one side of the limb, then on the other, with decided benefit to the
patient in most of them. In some cases deep incisions through the entire
thickness of the indurated mass afforded relief and resulted in
diminution of the size of the swelling. He relates the details of the
case of a native, fifty years old, the subject of elephantiasis of the
lower limbs, that he operated on in two stages several weeks apart,
removing first a large section from the anterior and later from the
posterior part of the swelling, and as shown by the accompanying
illustrations in the report depicting the condition of the limbs before
and after operation, with an excellent result. However, in some of the
cases the benefit thus derived did not last for any considerable length
of time.

In making the excision, the superfluous skin is excised with the
underlying indurated tissues, and the skin margins reflected for some
distance in order to create sufficient room for a more liberal removal
of the deep tissues. In one case, that of a woman thirty-eight years of
age, the patient died two weeks after the second operation. Death was
attributed to loss of blood and the debilitated condition of the patient
when she entered the hospital. In another case, a Tahitian, thirty-five
years old, affected with elephantiasis of all limbs and the external
genitals, he operated successfully on one of the arms, the seat of an
enormous swelling below the elbow. The excised mass weighed fifteen
kilograms. Owing to the large size of the swelling, the operation proved
one of great difficulty, and on account of the tension incident to the
approximation of the margins of the flaps the sutures cut through and
the wound ultimately healed by granulation. At the second operation
nearly the entire mass was removed, with the result that the wound
finally healed after a prolonged suppuration and the patient was
relieved of the incumbrance caused by the great weight of the swelling.
The relief afforded induced the patient to request additional operations
for the removal of the swellings involving other regions of the body,
but as the surgeon soon after left the island his desire could not be
gratified.

The climate of Tahiti is not congenial for pulmonary and rheumatic
affections, as the atmosphere is too moist. It is admirably adapted for
patients the subjects of nervous affections in all their protean forms.
The quietude, balmy air and pleasing surroundings are the best
therapeutic agents to secure mental rest and refreshing sleep. It is in
the treatment of such affections that a trip to Tahiti can not be too
strongly recommended.

THE KAHUNA OR NATIVE DOCTOR

For centuries the practice of the healing art was largely in the hands
of priests. They ministered to the body as well as the soul. Their
practice was purely empirical and the surgery, even of the most skilled,
rude and often brutal. The human mind is very much inclined to look upon
disease and the methods used to effect a cure as something mysterious.
Even at this late day many people who are well educated and who in
everything else seem to possess a liberal amount of good common sense,
have very strange ideas in regard to disease and the means employed in
treatment. Promises to cure and a liberal expenditure of printers' ink
render them an easy prey to mysterious methods. All races and all tribes
have always had among them men and women in whom they confided in case
of accident or disease. Very often priesthood and medicine were combined
in the same person. Among the ancient Tahitians the chief was at the
same time priest and medical adviser. The American Indians had their
medicine-men, the Tahitians and other South Sea Islanders their Kahuna.
It is very interesting to know something of the early practice of
medicine and surgery among the Tahitians. Captain Cook gives them great
credit from what he saw of their surgery:

  They perform cures in surgery, which our extensive knowledge in that
  branch has not, as yet, enabled us to imitate. In simple fractures,
  they bind them up with splints, but if part of the substance of the
  bone be lost, they insert a piece of wood, between the fractured ends,
  made hollow like the deficient part. In five or six days, the rapooa,
  or surgeon, inspects the wound, and finds the wood partly covered with
  the growing flesh. In as many more days, it is generally entirely
  covered; after which, when the patient has acquired some strength, he
  bathes in the water, and recovers.

In speaking of medicine he says:

  Their physical knowledge seems more confined; and that, probably,
  because their diseases are fewer than their accidents. The priests,
  however, administer the juices of herbs in some cases; and women who
  are troubled with after-pains, or other disorders after child-bearing,
  use a remedy which one would think needless in a hot country. They
  first heat stones, as when they bake their food; then they lay a thick
  cloth over them, upon which is put a quantity of a small plant of the
  mustard kind; and these are covered with another cloth. Upon this they
  seat themselves, and sweat plentifully, to obtain a cure. They have no
  emetic medicine.

In referring to the few indigenous diseases he adds:

  But this was before the arrival of the Europeans; for we have added to
  this short category a disease which abundantly supplies the place of
  all the others; and is now almost universal [syphilis]. For this they
  seem to have no effectual remedy. The priests, indeed, sometimes give
  them a medley of simples; but they own that it never cures them, and
  yet, they allow that, in a few cases, nature, without the assistance
  of a physician, exterminates the poison of this fatal disease, and
  perfect recovery is produced. They say that a man affected with it
  will often communicate it to others in the same house, by feeding out
  of the same utensils, or handling them, and that, in this case, they
  frequently die, while he recovers; though we see no reason why this
  should happen.

On his fourth voyage to the Society Islands Captain Cook learned to what
fearful extent syphilis had spread throughout all of the islands of the
group and became aware what ravages it had caused among the natives. On
visiting new islands he did all in his power to protect the natives
against this scourge by excluding all women visitors from the ship and
by strictly enjoining persons known to be infected from landing. On the
probable effects of these new regulations he comments:

  Whether these regulations, dictated by humanity, had the desired
  effect, or no, time only can discover. I had been equally attentive to
  the same object when I first visited the Friendly Islands; yet I
  afterward found, with real concern, that I had not succeeded, and I am
  afraid that this will always be the case, in such voyages as ours,
  whenever it is necessary to have a number of people on shore.



Massage as a remedial agent in the treatment of disease originated in
the Orient, and the Tahitians were familiar with it and frequently made
use of it. On this subject Captain Cook can speak from personal
experience. During his stay in Tahiti in 1777 he suffered evidently from
a severe attack of sciatica, the pain extending from the hip to the
toes. King Otoo's mother, his three sisters and eight more women came on
his ship one evening for the purpose of giving him treatment and
remained all night to fulfill their well-meant mission. Here is the
account of the treatment to which he was subjected by the women:

  I accepted the kindly offer, had a bed spread for them upon the cabin
  floor, and submitted myself to their directions. I was desired to lay
  myself down amongst them. Then, as many of them as could get around
  me, began to squeeze me with both hands, from head to foot, but more
  particularly on the parts where the pain was lodged, till they made my
  bones crack, and my flesh became a perfect mummy. In short, after
  undergoing this discipline about a quarter of an hour, I was glad to
  get away from them. However, the operation gave me immediate relief,
  which encouraged me to submit to another rubbing down before I went to
  bed; and it was so efficient that I found myself pretty easy all the
  night after. My female physicians repeated their prescription the next
  morning, before they went ashore, and again in the evening, when they
  returned on board; after which, I found the pains entirely removed,
  and the cure being perfected, they took leave of me the following
  morning. This they call _romee_, an operation which, in my opinion, far
  exceeds the flesh-brush, or anything of the kind that we make use of
  externally. It is universally practised amongst the islanders, being
  sometimes performed by men, but more generally by women.

PHYSICIANS IN TAHITI

Tahiti is not an Eldorado for doctors. The entire island has only eleven
thousand inhabitants and the great majority of them are too poor to pay
for medical services. The only place in Tahiti where a doctor can be
found is in Papeete. At the time I visited the island there was only one
physician in private practice in the capital city, Dr. Chassaniol, a
retired naval surgeon, the only private practitioner in the whole group
of islands. The bulk of medical practice is in the hands of the
government physician, always a military man who has at the same time
charge of the Military Hospital and takes care of the sick poor, and
supervises all matters pertaining to sanitation. The only other
physicians in the island are the naval surgeons on board a small
man-of-war almost constantly anchored in the harbor of Papeete. The
government physician is privileged to practice outside of the hospital,
and from this source he receives the bulk of his income. As the resident
physician and the government physician are the only qualified physicians
in the whole archipelago, it requires no stretch of the imagination to
realize that until the present time the French government has not made
adequate provisions for their subjects who require the services of a
physician.



The Tahitians have not lost their faith in their Kahunas or native
doctors, who without any medical knowledge, practice their art. These
men, with a local reputation as healers of disease, are to be found in
nearly every village. They are well thought of and are influential
members of society in their respective communities. Like the
medicine-men of our Indians, they make use of roots, bark and herbs as
remedial agents, and the natives, like many of our own people, have more
faith in this mysterious kind of medication than in modern,
concentrated, palatable drugs prescribed by the most eminent physician.
To the credit of these native medicine-men, it must be said that they
give to all afflicted who apply for treatment not only their services,
but also the medicines without any expectation of a financial reward or
even the gratitude of their clients.

HÔPITAL MILITAIRE

The military hospital at Papeete is the only one in the French colonial
possession of the Society Islands, numbering one hundred and sixty-eight
islands and containing thirty thousand inhabitants, of whom eleven
thousand live in Tahiti. As some of these islands are more than one
hundred miles apart, it is somewhat strange that the French government
has not taken earlier action in establishing small cottage hospitals in
a number of the larger islands, as in case of severe injuries or sudden
illness the natives of the distant islands are not within reach of
timely medical aid and the transportation of a sick or injured person to
Papeete from the far-off islands or villages by small schooners or
canoes is necessarily slow and in many instances dangerous. The Sanitary
Commission now stationed in the islands will, it is to be hoped, act
promptly in remedying this serious defect in the care of the sick
natives.



The Military Hospital at Papeete is an old structure of brick and
cement, situated near the western limits of the city in a large square
yard inclosed by a high stone wall, surmounted by a crest of fragments
of glass, which imparts to the inclosure a prison-like appearance, the
austerity of which, however, is much relieved by beautiful tropical
trees, shrubbery and flowers in front of the entrance and in the
courtyard. The hospital proper comprises seven buildings, only one of
which is two stories high. The hospital has accommodations for forty
beds. The officers' rooms contain two beds each; the remaining space is
divided into small wards for privates and civilians. In one ward, the
windows of which are strongly barred, are kept the military prisoners,
and another small ward is devoted to obstetrical cases. The rooms and
wards are well ventilated and clean, the beds comfortable; the hospital
furniture otherwise is scanty and antique. The drug-room is large,
richly supplied with capacious jars, mortars of all sizes, herbs, roots
and a complete outfit for making infusions, decoctions and tinctures,
which reminds one very vividly of an apothecary shop of half a century
ago. This department is in charge of a pharmacist who, besides mixing
drugs, does some chemical and bacteriological work in a small and
imperfectly equipped laboratory. The operating-room is an open
passageway between two adjoining wards, and all it contained suggestive
of its use were an operating table of prodigious size and decidedly
primitive construction, and, suspended from the wall, a tin irrigator,
to which was attached a long piece of rubber tubing of doubtful age. The
hospital is well supplied with water, and contains a bathroom, a
shower-bath and modern closets. The hospital is in charge of the
government physician, who is always a medical officer of the colonial
troops, detailed for this special service, usually for a period of three
years. From the official reports I gleaned that on an average this
institution takes care of about three hundred and fifty patients a year.
At the time of my visit the number of patients did not exceed fifteen,
among them one in the prison ward. All of the patients were the subjects
of trifling affections, with the exception of three cases of typhoid
fever sent to the hospital from one of the atoll islands. The patients
are being cared for by three Catholic sisters and orderlies as they are
needed. The poor are admitted gratuitously; private patients pay from
six to fifteen francs a day. The hospital is beautifully located on the
principal street of the city and faces the charming little harbor. A
small private hospital for the foreign residents and tourists is needed
here and under proper management would prove a remunerative investment.

THE ISLAND OF PLENTY

  O Christ! it is a goodly sight to see

  What heaven hath done for this delicious land.

  BYRON.

The wealth of Tahiti is on its surface. Its mountains are not pregnant
with precious metals nor has nature stored up in their interior material
for fuel and illumination, as none of these are needful to make the
people content and happy. The Tahitian has no desire to accumulate
wealth; the warm rays of the sun reduce the use of fuel to a minimum,
and the millions of glittering stars and the soft silvery light of the
moon in the clear blue sky create a bewitching light at night, which,
more than half of the time, would make artificial illumination a
mockery. Then, too, Tahiti is the land of gentle sleep and pleasant
dreams, where people do not turn night into day, but rise with the sun
and retire soon after he disappears in the west behind the vast expanse
of the ocean. God created Tahiti for an ideal island home and not as a
place for get-rich-quick methods, speculation and bitter competition for
business, for

  Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment fails,

  And _honor lacks_ where commerce long prevails.

  GOLDSMITH.

Tahiti's fabulous wealth consists in its inexhaustible soil and the
perennial warm, stimulating breath of the tropic sun. It is the island
of never-fading verdure and vigorous and never-ceasing vegetation. The
fertile soil, the abundant rainfall throughout the year, the warm
sunshine and the equable climate are most conducive to plant-life and
here these conditions are so harmonious that there can be no failure of
crops in the Lord's plantation. There never has been a famine in Tahiti,
and there never will be, provided the government protects the
magnificent mountain forests—nature's system of irrigation. Tahiti's
food-supply is select and never-failing, and is furnished man with the
least possible exertion on his part. The bounteous provisions nature has
made here for the abode of man are a marvel to the visitor and after he
has once seen them and has become familiar with them he can not escape
the conclusion that he is in

  A land flowing with milk and honey.

  JEREMIAH xxxii:22.

The food products and fruits grown in the forests without the toil of
man are admirably adapted for the climatic conditions, being laxative
and cooling, and undoubtedly account for the excellent health of the
natives before the invasion of the island by the Europeans. The island
was destined for the natives, and the natives were suited to the island.

  Man's rich with little, were his judgment true;

  Nature is frugal, and her wants are few;

  These few wants answer'd, bring sincere delights;

  But fools create themselves new appetites.

  YOUNG.

Content with what the sea and forest provided for them, these children
of Nature lived a happy life, free from care, free from morbid desires
for wealth or fame.

  O blissful poverty!

  Nature, too partial, to thy lot assigns

  Health, freedom, innocence, and downy peace, —

  Her real goods, — and only mocks the great

  With empty pageantries.

  FENTON.

  No sullen discontent nor anxious care.

  E'en though brought thither, could inhabit there.

  DRYDEN.

The Tahitian people, before they tasted the questionable advantages of
European civilization, had much in common and lived happily in the full
enjoyment of Nature's varied and bountiful gifts. Tribal life was family
life, and public affairs were managed to suit the wants of the people,
and if any one in power failed in his duties, the people took the law in
their own hands and corrected the evil, usually without bloodshed. If
the people were not prosperous according to our ideas of life, they were
at least happy, and

  We must distinguish between felicity and prosperity; for prosperity
  leads often to ambition, and ambition to disappointment.

  LANDOR.

TAHITI'S NATURAL BREAD SUPPLY

The Tahitians have no corn or grain of any kind out of which to make
bread. They found in the forests excellent substitutes for bread, and
more healthful for that climate, in the form of breadfruit, wild
plantain and tubers rich in starch. This is the kind of bread they have
been eating for centuries, and which they prefer to our bread to-day.
When the island was densely populated and the demand on nature's
resources exceeded the supply, the natives had to plant trees, roots and
tubers in vacant spaces in the forest, high up on the mountainsides,
where they grew luxuriantly without any or little care, and by these
trifling efforts on the part of man the food-supply kept pace with the
increase of the population. Trees and plants distributed in this manner
found a permanent home in the new places provided for them, and have
since multiplied, and thus increased greatly the annual yield. Evidences
of dissemination of bread and fruit-yielding trees and plants by the
intervention of man are apparent to-day throughout the island by the
presence of cocoa-palms, breadfruit and other fruit trees, and
plantains, in localities where nature could not plant them, in places
formerly inhabited but abandoned long ago when the population became so
rapidly decimated by the virulent diseases introduced into the island by
the Europeans. To-day the fruit and fruit-supply is so abundant that it
is within easy reach of every family and can be had without money and
without labor. We will consider here a few of the most important
substitutes for bread on which the Tahitians largely subsist:



_Breadfruit_.—Breadfruit is the most important article of food of the
Tahitians. It is the fruit of the breadfruit tree _Arfocarpus incisiva_
(Linné), a tree of the natural order, _Artocarpaceæ_, a native of the
islands of the Pacific Ocean and of the Indian Archipelago. This fruit
is one of the most important gifts of nature to the inhabitants of the
tropics, serving as the principal part of their food, the inner tough
bark of the tree furnishing a good material for native cloth, while the
trunk of the tree is used as a material for canoes. The exudation
issuing from cuts made into the stem, a resinous substance, is in use
for closing the seams of canoes. Several varieties of breadfruit trees
are to be found in Tahiti, differing in the structure of their leaves
and in the size and time of ripening of the fruit, so that ripe
breadfruit is obtainable more or less abundantly throughout the year.
The foliage of this tree is the greenest of all green, and it is this
deep green which distinguished this tree at once from its neighbors. The
male flowers are in catkins, with a two-leaved perianth and one stamen;
the female flowers are nude. The leaves are large, pinnatifid,
frequently twelve to eighteen inches long, smooth and glossy on their
upper surface. The much branched tree attains a height of twenty to
fifty feet. The fruit is a _sorosis_, a compound or aggregate the size of
a child's head, round or slightly oblong, light green, fleshy and
tuberculated on the surface. The rind is thick, and marked with small
square or lozenge-shaped divisions, each having a small elevation in the
middle. The fruit hangs by a short, thick stalk from the small branches,
singly or in clusters of two or three together. It contains a white,
somewhat fibrous pulp, which when ripe becomes juicy and yellow, but has
then a rotten taste. The fruit is gathered for use before it is ripe,
and the pulp is then white and mealy, of the consistence of fresh bread.
The fruit is prepared in many ways for food, roasted on hot coals,
boiled or baked, or converted by the experienced native cook into
complicated dainty dishes. The common practice in Tahiti is to cut each
fruit into three or four pieces and take out the core; then to place
heated stones in the bottom of a hole dug in the ground; to cover them
with green leaves, and upon this place a layer of the fruit, then
stones, leaves and fruit alternately, till the hole is nearly filled,
when leaves and earth to the depth of several inches are spread over
all. In half an hour the breadfruit is ready; the outsides are, in
general, nicely browned, and the inner part presents a white or
yellowish cellular substance. Breadfruit prepared in this manner and by
other methods of cooking is very palatable, as I can speak from my own
experience, slightly astringent and highly nutritious, a most excellent
dietetic article for the tropics. The tree is very prolific, producing
two and sometimes three crops a year. When once this tree has gained a
firm foothold in a soil it cherishes, and in a climate it enjoys, it
exhibits a tenacity to reproduce itself to an extent often beyond
desirable limits. Of this Captain Cook writes:

  I have inquired very carefully into their manner of cultivating the
  breadfruit tree; but was always answered that they never plant it. The
  breadfruit tree plants itself, as it springs from the roots of the old
  ones, so that the natives are often under the necessity of preventing
  its progress to make room for trees of other sorts to afford some
  variety in their food.

The timber is soft and light, of a rich yellow color, and assumes when
exposed to the air the appearance of mahogany.

_Manioc_.—Manioc is another important article of food in Tahiti and
likewise serves as an excellent substitute for baker's bread. It is the
large, fleshy root of _Manihot utilissima_, a large, half-shrubby plant of
the natural order _Euphorhiaceæ_, a native of tropical America, and much
cultivated in Tahiti as an article of food. In this island the plant has
run wild in some of the ravines formerly inhabited. The plant grows in a
bushy form, with stems usually six to eight feet high, but sometimes
much higher. The stems are brittle, white, and have a very large pith;
the branches are crooked. The leaves are near the ends of the branches,
large, deeply seven-parted, smooth and deep green. The roots are very
large, turnip-like, sometimes weighing thirty pounds, from three to
eight growing in a cluster, usually from twelve to twenty-four inches in
length. They contain an acrid, milky juice in common with other parts of
the plant, so poisonous as to cause death in a few minutes; but as the
toxic effect is owing to the presence of hydrocyanic acid, which is
quickly removed by heat, the juice, inspissated by boiling, forms the
excellent sauce called _casareep_; and fermented with molasses it yields
an intoxicating beverage called _onycou_; whilst the root, grated, dried
on hot metal plates and roughly powdered, becomes an article of food. It
is made into thin plates which are formed into cakes, not by mixing with
water, but by the action of heat, softening and agglutinating the
particles of starch. The powdered root prepared in this manner is an
easily digestible and nutritious article of farinaceous food. The root
is largely made use of in the manufacture of starch and is exported from
Tahiti for this purpose to a considerable extent. The starch made from
this root is also known as Brazilian arrowroot, and from it tapioca is
made. Manioc is propagated by cuttings of the stem, and is of rapid
growth, attaining maturity in six months.

_Sweet Cassava_.—Sweet cassava is the root of _Manihot Aipi_, a woody plant
indigenous to tropical South America, growing in great abundance in the
dense forest of the mountain valleys of Tahiti. The plant grows to a
height of several feet and has large long leaves growing from the foot
of the stem. The root is reddish and nontoxic; it can therefore be used
as a culinary esculent, without any further preparation than boiling,
while its starch can also be converted into tapioca. The _Aipi_ has tough,
woody fibres, extending along the axis of the tubers, while generally
the roots of the manioc (bitter cassava) are free from this central
woody substance.

_Arrowroot_ or _Arru Root_.—The commercial arrowroot is prepared from
different starch-yielding roots, but the bulb of the _Maranta marantaceæ_
produces more starch and of a better quality than any of the others. It
is a native of the West Indies and South America, and is cultivated
quite extensively in Tahiti. Many little patches of this plant may be
seen along the road from Papeete to Papara, where the lowland soil is
well adapted for its cultivation. The starch-producing plant which is
cultivated most extensively in Tahiti and other South Sea Islands is the
_Tacca pinnatifolia_. This perennial plant will even thrive well in the
sandy soil near the shore. The stalk, with terminal spreading pinnatifid
leaves, is from two to three feet high and the root is a tuber about the
size of a small potato. The tacca starch is much valued in medicine, and
is particularly used in the treatment of inflammatory affections of the
gastro-intestinal canal.

_Taro or Tara_.—Taro is another very important food-product of Tahiti, as
well as other islands of the Pacific, notably the Hawaiian Islands. It
is the root of _Colocasia macrorhiza_, a plant of the natural order
_Araceæ_, of the same genus with _cocoa_. The plant thrives best in low,
marshy places. In all of the South Sea Islands it is very extensively
cultivated for its roots, which constitute in these islands a staple
article of food, excellent substitutes for potatoes and bread. The roots
are very large, from twelve to sixteen inches in length, and as much in
circumference. They are washed in cold water to take away their
acridity, which is such as to cause excoriation of the mouth and palate.
The roots are cooked in the same way as the breadfruit, the rind being
first scraped off. Another very common way of eating taro is in the form
of _poi_. This method of preparing the root was known to the Tahitians
when Captain Cook visited the island. He compared _poi_ with "sour
pudding." It requires some skill to make _poi_. The root, finely grated,
is allowed to ferment over night. It tastes sour and is a refreshing,
delicate and nutritious dish, when served ice-cold. The plant has no
stalk; the petioled heart-shaped leaves spring from the root. The flower
is in the form of a spathe. The boiled leaves can be used as a
substitute for spinach.

_Wild Plantain_.—The wild plantain furnishes its liberal share of
food-supply for the Tahitians. It is a tree-like, perennial herb (_Musa
paradisiaca_) with immense leaves and large clusters of the fruits. In
its appearance it resembles very closely the banana, but differs from it
as the hands and fingers of the bunches of fruit are turned in the
opposite direction. The fruit is long and somewhat cylindrical, slightly
curved, and, when ripe, soft, fleshy and covered with a thick but tender
yellowish skin. This plant is indigenous to Tahiti and is found in
abundance in the forests. The fruit is cooked or baked and is keenly
relished by the natives.

All of the articles of food I have referred to above are easily
digested, palatable and nutritious, and for the Tahiti climate more
healthful than bread and potatoes, on which the masses of people living
in colder climates subsist to a large extent. I attribute the
comparative immunity of the South Sea Islanders from attacks of
appendicitis principally to their diet, which is laxative, easily
digested and not liable to cause fermentation in the gastro-intestinal
canal. Appendicitis does occur in these islands, but this disease is
extremely rare as compared with the frequency with which it is met in
Europe, and more especially in the United States. The Americans are the
most injudicious and reckless eaters in the world, which goes far in
explaining the prevalence of gastric and intestinal disorders among our
people.



THE COCOANUT, THE MEAT OF THE TAHITIANS

It is fortunate that the inhabitants of the tropics have no special
liking for a meat diet, as the free indulgence in meat could not fail in
resulting detrimentally to the health of the inhabitants. The
continuously high temperature begets indolence, and indolence tends to
diminish secretion and excretion, conditions incompatible with a
habitual consumption of meat. Nature has established fixed rules
concerning the manner of living in the tropics. She deprives man of the
appetite for meat and other equally heavy articles of food, and supplies
him with nourishment adapted for the climate. It is under such climatic
conditions that we are made to realize that

  The more we deny ourselves, the more the gods supply our wants.

  HORATIUS.

and

  We can not use the mind aright when the body is filled with excess of
  food.

  CICERO.

For the preservation of health in the tropics, it is necessary that the
food should be laxative, cooling, easy of digestion and nutritious. Fish
and fruit of various kinds meet these requirements. From observations
and experience, the ignorant natives have made a wise selection of what
is best for them to eat, and know what to avoid. High living brings its
dire results in temperate and cold climates, but any one indulging in it
in the tropics will curtail his life, as it can not fail to be
productive, in a short time, of organic changes of a degenerative type
in important internal organs, which soon begin to menace life and never
fail in diminishing the vital resistance against acute diseases. Luxury
in the tropics in the way of eating and drinking is a dangerous
experiment, and it is well to remember, especially when living in a hot
climate, that

  By degrees man passes to the enjoyments of a vicious life, porticoes,
  baths and elegant banquets; this by the ignorant was called a
  civilized mode of living, though in reality it was only a form of
  luxury.

  TACTICUS.

No such mistakes are made by the natives of Tahiti as long as they
remain true to their ancient manner of living. With few exceptions,
indeed, they lack the means of imitating the foreigners in living a life
of luxury. Any native who departs too far from the simple, natural life
of his ancestors will pay dearly for the doubtful pleasures of a life of
luxury. The average native, fortunately, has no such inclinations; he is
satisfied to live the simple, natural life his forefathers led, and he
follows the scriptural advice.

  And having food and raiment, let us be therewith content. I. Timothy
  vi:8.



Nature has provided for the South Sea Islanders something better than
beef and mutton in the form of meat—fish and cocoanut. Fish are very
abundant all around the coast of Tahiti, and the lagoons, where the
fishing is mostly done, are as quiet as inland lakes. More than two
hundred varieties of fish have been found in these waters. But the real
and best meat for the Tahitians is the cocoanut. The meat of this
wonderful nut contains a large per cent, of oil, which supplies the
system with all the fatty material it requires, and for the tropic
climate this bland, nutritious vegetable oil is far superior to any
animal fats. We will give here the Cocoa-palm the liberal space it so
well deserves:

THE COCOA-PALM

  Through groves of palm

  Sigh gales of balm,

  Fire-flies on the air are wheeling;

  While through the gloom

  Comes soft perfume,

  The distant beds of flowers revealing.

  SIR WALTER SCOTT.

The cocoa-palm is the queen of the forests of the South Sea Islands. The
tall, slender, branchless, silvery stem and fronded crown of this
graceful tree distinguish it at once from all its neighbors and indicate
the nobility of its race. The great clusters of golden fruit of giant
size, partially obscured by the drooping leaves and clinging to the end
of the stem, supply the natives with the necessities of life. The
cocoa-palm is the greatest benefactor of the inhabitants of the tropics.

  It is meat, drink and cloth to us.

  RABELAIS.

  Fruits of palm-tree, pleasantest to thirst

  And hunger both.

  MILTON.

This noble tree grows and fructifies where hard manual labor is
incompatible with the climate, in islands and countries where the
natives have to rely largely on the bounteous resources of nature for
food and protection. The burning shores of India and the islands of the
South Pacific are the natural homes of the cocoa-palm. It has a special
predilection for the sandy beach of Tahiti and the innumerable atoll
islands near to and far from this gem of the South Seas. The giant nuts
often drop directly into the sea and are carried away by waves and
currents from their native soil to strange islands, where they are cast
upon the sandy shore, to sprout and prosper for the benefit of other
native or visiting tribes. By this manner of dissemination, all of these
islands have become encircled by a lofty colonnade of this queen of the
tropics.

  Beautiful isles! beneath the sunset skies

  Tall silver shafted palm-trees rise between

  Tall orange trees that shade

  The living colonnade:

  Alas! how sad, how sickening is the scene

  That were ye at my side would be a paradise.

  MARIA BROOKS.

The cocoa-palm (_Cocos nucifera_), is a native of the Indian coasts and
the South Sea Islands. It belongs to a genus of palms having pinnate
leaves or fronds, and male and female flowers on the same tree, the
latter at the base of each spadix. It is seldom found at any
considerable distance from the seacoast, except where it has been
introduced by man, and generally thrives best near the very edge of the
sea. In Tahiti isolated cocoa-palms are found on the lofty hilltops,
projecting, with their proud crowns of pale green leaves, far above the
level of the sea of the dense forest and impenetrable jungles. This
transplantation from shore to the sides and summits of the foot-hills
had its beginning before the discovery of the island, when the
overpopulation made it necessary to provide for a more abundant
food-supply. There it has prospered and multiplied since without the
further aid of man, yielding its rich harvests of fruit with unfailing
regularity. The frightful reduction in the number of inhabitants since
the white man set his foot on the island has made this additional
food-supply superfluous, as the palms within easier reach in the
lowlands along the shore more than meet the present demands.



The cocoa-palm is a proud but virtuous tree. Its dense cluster of
delicate roots does not encroach upon the territory of other trees, but
claims only a very modest circular patch of soil from which to abstract
the nourishment for the unselfish, philanthropic tree. The base of the
stem is wide and usually inclined, but a few feet from the ground
becomes straight and cylindrical, with nearly the same diameter from
base to crown. The curve of the stem is caused by the effects of the
prevailing winds on the yielding, slender stem of the youthful tree, but
with increasing growth and strength, it rises column-like into the air,
balancing its fruit-laden massive crown in uncompromising opposition to
the invisible aerial force. It is only in localities exposed to the full
power of strong and persistent trade-winds that the full-grown trees
lean in the same direction in obedience to the unrelenting common
deforming cause. The full-grown tree is, on an average, two feet in
diameter, and from sixty to one hundred feet high, with many rings
marking the places of former leaves, and having, at its summit, a crown
of from sixteen to twenty leaves, which generally droop, and are from
twelve to twenty feet in length. These giant leaves furnish an excellent
material for thatched roofs, and in case of need, a few leaves, properly
placed, will make a comfortable, waterproof tent. The fruit grows in
short racemes, which bear, in favorable situations, from five to fifteen
nuts; and ten or twelve of these racemes, in different stages of
fructification, may be seen at once on a tree, about eighty or one
hundred nuts being its ordinary annual product. For the purpose of
answering the requirements of primitive man, the Creator has ordained
that this tree shall yield a continuous harvest from one end of the year
to the other. Flowers and fruit in all stages of ripening grace the
crown at all times of the year. The young cocoanut contains the
delicious, cooling milk, and the soft pulp, a nourishing article of
food. The mature nut is an excellent substitute for meat, as the kernel
contains more than seventy per cent, of a fixed, bland, nutritious oil.
The tree bears fruit in from seven to eight years from the time of
planting, and its lifetime is from seventy to eighty years. Its greatest
ambition during youth is to reach the clouds and equal its oldest
neighbors in height. Young trees, with a stem less than four inches in
diameter, rival their veteran neighbors in height, devoting their future
growth to the increase in the dimension and strength of the stem, and
their vital vigor to the bearing of its perennial, unfailing yield of
fruit for the benefit of man and beast. The stem, when young, contains a
central part which is sweet and edible, but when old, this is a mass of
hard fibre. The terminal bud (palm cabbage) is esteemed a delicacy when
boiled or stewed or raw in the form of a vegetable salad. The sweet sap
(toddy) of the cocoa-palm, as of some other palms, is an esteemed
beverage in tropic countries, either in its natural state, or after
fermentation, which takes place in a few hours; and, from the fermented
sap (palm wine), a strong alcoholic liquor (_arrack_), is obtained by
distillation. The root of the cocoa-palm possesses narcotic properties.
Every part of this wonderful tree is utilized by the untutored
inhabitants of the tropics. The dried leaves are much used for the
thatch, and for many other purposes, as the making of mats, screens,
baskets, etc., by plaiting the leaflets. The strong midribs of the
leaves supply the natives with oars. The wood of the lower part of the
trunk is very hard, and takes a beautiful polish. The fibrous centre of
old stems is made into salad. By far the most important fibrous part of
the cocoa-palm is the coir, the fibre of the husk of the imperfectly
ripened nut. The sun-dried husk of the ripe nut is used for fuel, and
also, when cut across, for polishing furniture, scrubbing floors, etc.
The shell of the nut is made into cups, goblets, ladles, etc., and these
household articles are often finely polished and elaborately ornamented
by carving. This, the most generous of all trees, from the time of its
birth until it yields to the ravages of time, serves man in hundreds of
different ways, furnishing him with food and drink, clothing,
building-material, fuel, medicine, most exquisite delicacies, wine,
spirits and many articles of comfort and even of luxury. What other tree
but the cocoa-palm could have been in the mind of Milton when he wrote:

  In heav'n the trees

  Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines

  Yield nectar.



The cocoa-palm is a peaceful, modest, virtuous tree. It prefers its own
kin, but is charitable to its neighbors, irrespective of race. It towers
far above the sea of less favored trees, which find in its shade
protection against the burning rays of the tropic sun and the fury of
the trade-winds. Proudly it stands guard at the shores of the coral-girt
islands of the South Pacific, waving its lofty, fruit-laden crown,
responding alike to the cool, refreshing land breezes and the humid
trade-winds in the balmy air of the tropics. Peaceful and lovely is a
forest of palms, where

  Leaves live only to enjoy love, and throughout the forest every tree
  is luxuriating in affectionate embrace; palm, as it nods to palm,
  joins in mutual love; the poplar sighs for the poplar; plane whispers
  to plane, and alder to alder.

  CLAUDIANUS.

The sight of a forest of cocoa-palms from a distance is imposing, a walk
through it full of enchantment. Nowhere does this noble tree appear to
better advantage than in Tahiti. This, the most favored of all islands,
is engirdled by an almost unbroken belt of palm-forest, stretching from
the very verge of the ocean to the base of the foot-hills, with the
towering, tree-clad mountains for a background; a forest planted by the
invisible hand of Nature, a forest cared for by Nature, a forest which
produces nearly all of the necessities of life for the natives from day
to day, and year to year, with unfailing regularity. Enter this forest
and the eye feasts on a scene which neither the pen of the most skilled
naturalist nor the brush of the ablest landscape artist can reproduce
with anything that would do justice to nature's inexhaustible resources
and artistic designs. Such a scene must be gazed upon to be appreciated.
Between the colonnade of symmetrical silvery stems and crowns of
feathery fronds, inlaid with the ponderous golden fruit, the eye catches
glimpses of the blue, placid ocean, the foam-crested breakers, of the
still more beautifully blue dome of the sky, the deep green carpet of
the unbroken tropic forest thrown over the mountainsides, or the naked,
rugged, brown peaks basking in the sunlight, and on all sides flowers of
various hues and most delicate tints. Surely,

  Who can paint

  Like Nature? Can imagination boast.

  Amid its gay creation, hues like hers,

  Or can it mix them with that matchless skill.

  And lose them in each other, as appears

  In every bud that blows?

  THOMSON.

Add to the pleasures flashed upon the mind by the ravished eye, the
perfumed, soothing air of the tropics, the sweet sounds of the aeolian
harp as the gentle breeze strikes its well-timed chords in the fronded
crowns of the palms overhead, the bubbling of the ripples of the near-by
ocean as they kiss the sandy rim of the island shore, and the clashes of
the breakers as they strike with unerring regularity the coral reef, the
outer wall of the calm lagoon, and your soul will be in a mood to join
the poet in singing the praises of nature:

  O Nature!

  Enrich me with knowledge of thy works:

  Snatch me to heaven!

  THOMSON.

Queen of the tropic isles, guardian of their sun-kissed strands, friend
of their dusky, simple children of Nature! Continue in the future as you
have done in the past, to dispense your work of generosity and unselfish
charity, to sustain and protect the life of man and beast in a climate
you love and revere, a climate adverse for man to earn his daily bread
by the sweat of his brow! I have seen your charms in your favorite
island-abode and studied with interest your innumerable deeds of
generosity, your full storehouse for the urgent needs of man and your
safe refuge for the inhabitants of the air. Had Whittier visited the
island Paradise, your native home, he would have written in the positive
in the first stanza, when he framed that beautiful verse:

  I know not where His islands lift

  Their fronded palms in air;

  I only know I can not drift

  Beyond His love and care!

There is no other country and no other island in the world that has such
a variety of indigenous fruit trees as Tahiti. Add to these trees that
have furnished the natives with an abundance of fruit for centuries, the
fruit trees that have been introduced since the island was discovered,
and many of which flourish now in a wild state in the forests, and it
will give some idea concerning the wealth of fruit to be found in the
forests of Tahiti. Most of the inland habitations away from the coast
have been abandoned long ago, and in all these places, in the valleys
and high up on the mountainsides, many kinds of exogenous fruit trees,
planted by former generations, have gained a permanent foothold. Here
they multiply, blossom, ripen their fruit, and all the islanders have to
do is to gather the annual crop. Here delicious little thin-skinned
oranges grow, and the finest lemons and limes can be had for the
gathering. The poor find here

  Fruits of all kinds in coat

  Rough or smooth rind, or bearded husk or shell,

  She gathers tribute large, and on the board

  Heaps with unsparing hand.

  MILTON.



Nothing reminds one more of Tahiti being the forbidden Garden of Eden,
than the abundance of fruit that grows in the forests without the
intervention of man. Some kind of fruit can be found during all seasons
of the year, and

  Small store will serve, where store

  All seasons, ripe for use, hangs on the stalk.

  MILTON.

It is here not as in most countries where

  The poor inhabitant beholds in vain

  The redd'ning orange and the swelling grain.

  ADDISON.

as the poorest of the poor have access to Nature's orchard and can fill
their palm-leaf baskets with the choicest fruits. The Tahitian

  He feeds on fruits, which of their own accord

  The willing ground and laden tree afford.

  DRYDEN.

This mingling, in the most friendly manner, of the old forest trees with
familiar fruit trees introduced from distant lands and laden with golden
fruit, is a most beautiful sight. The fruit trees stand their ground
even against the most aggressive shrubs, and it is often no easy matter
to reach the ripe hiding fruit in the dense network of branches thrown
around and between the branches of the imprisoned tree. What a blessing
these acid fruits are to the natives, sweltering under the rays of the
tropic sun! How easy it is for them to make a cooling, refreshing drink!
Take a young cocoanut, open it at one end, and add to its milk the juice
of a lime or a lemon, and the healthiest and most refreshing drink is
made.

  Bear me, Pomona! to thy citron groves,

  To where the lemon and the piercing lime,

  With the deep orange glowing through the green,

  Their lighter glories lend.

  THOMSON.

It is claimed that the large apple family is the descendant of the
Siberian crab-apple, modified by climate, soil and grafting. This
statement appears to me incorrect, as I have seen a tree in the Hawaiian
forests which bears a real sweet apple which in shape and taste has a
strong resemblance to the apples of our orchards. The tree is from
twenty to thirty feet in height, slender and few branched. The same tree
is found in the forests of Tahiti, and its fruit is much sought after by
the natives. It would be difficult to connect the wild apple tree of the
South Sea Islands with the Siberian crab-apple, to which it bears no
resemblance, either in the appearance of the tree or its fruit. Let us
now consider a few of the fruit trees which adorn and enrich the forests
of Tahiti:

_Alligator Pear_, or _Avocado_.—This is the most delicate and luscious of
all the fruit-products of the Tahitian forests, where it is found in its
wild state in great abundance. It is the fruit of the _Persea gratissima_,
a tree belonging to the natural order _Lauraceæ_, an evergreen tree of the
tropic regions of America and the South Sea Islands. It attains a height
of from thirty to seventy feet, with a slender stem and dome-like, leafy
top. The branches, like the stem, are slender, and ascend on quite an
acute angle from their base. The leaves resemble those of the laurel.
The flowers are small, and are produced toward the extremities of the
branches. The fruit is a drupe, but in size and shape resembles a large
pear. The rind is green, thin, and somewhat rough on the outside. In the
center of the pulp is a large, heart-shaped kernel, wrapped in a thin,
paper-like membrane. The pulp is green or yellowish, not very sweet, but
of a delicious taste and exiquisite flavor, and contains about eight per
cent, of a greenish fixed oil. The way to eat this delicious fruit is to
cut it in two lengthwise, remove the kernel, season with sweet oil,
vinegar, salt and pepper, and eat with a teaspoon. In the form of a
salad it is one of the daintiest of all dishes. The softness of the pulp
and the richness in oil have led the French to call this fruit
"Vegetable butter." The seeds of the alligator pear have come into
medical use at the instance of Dr. Froehlig, and particularly through
the efforts of Park, Davis & Co., a manufacturing firm. The alligator
pear is a very perishable fruit, which accounts for its scarcity and
fabulous price in our markets.

_Pawpaw or Papaya_ is the fruit of the _Carica Papaya_, natural order
_Papayaceæ_. It is an exceedingly graceful, branchless little tree, which
grows to the height of from ten to twenty feet and is of short vitality.
Its natural home is in South America and the islands of the Pacific. The
cylindrical stem is grayish white, roughened in circles where the
previous whorls of leaves had their attachment. The leaves are from
twenty to thirty inches long and are arranged in the form of a whorl at
the very top of the stem, where also the fruit grows, close to the stem.
The fruit when ripe is light yellow, very similar to a small melon, and
with a somewhat similar flavor. The skin is very thin and the pulp
exceedingly soft, hence a very perishable fruit. The seeds are numerous,
round and black, and when chewed have, in a high degree, the pungency of
cresses. It requires time to acquire a taste for this healthy, very
digestible tropical fruit, but when once developed, it is keenly
relished. It is eaten either raw or boiled. It possesses digestive
properties of considerable value, which have been utilized in the
preparation of a vegetable pepsin. The acrid, milky sap of the tree or
the juice of the fruit much diluted with water, renders any tough meat
washed with it, tender for cooking purposes, by separating the muscular
fibres (Dr. Holder). It is said even the exhalations from the tree have
this property; and meats, fowls, etc., are hung among its leaves to
prepare them for cooking. The tree is of very rapid growth, bears fruit
all the year and is very prolific.

_Mango_ is the fruit of _Mangifera Indica_. It is a stately,
broad-branching, very shady tree, from thirty to forty feet in height,
belonging to the natural order _Anacardiaceæ_. The stem is short, from
eight to ten feet, when it divides into long, graceful branches, with an
impenetrable foliage, a fine protection against the rain and the
scorching rays of the sun. The bark is almost black and somewhat rough.
The leaves are in clusters, lanceolate, entire, alternate, petioled,
smooth, shining, tough, and about seven inches long, with an agreeable
resinous smell. The flowers are small, reddish white or yellowish, in
large, erect, terminal panicles. The fruit is kidney-shaped, smooth,
greenish yellow, with or without ruddy cheeks, varying greatly in size
and quality, and containing a large, flattened stone, which is covered
on the outside with fibrous filaments, largest and most abundant in the
inferior varieties, some of which consist chiefly of fibre and juice,
while the finer ones have a comparatively solid pulp. The size varies
from that of a large plum to that of a man's fist. The largest and
finest mangoes are found in Tahiti. The fruit is luscious and agreeably
sweet, with an aromatic flavor and slightly acid taste. The kernels are
nutritious, and have been cooked for food in times of scarcity. A mango
tree laden with its golden fruit is a pleasing sight, and reminds one
vividly of a Christmas tree.

_Lime_.—The fruit of _Citrus Planchoni, Citrus Australis Planchon_. The lime
tree of Tahiti was undoubtedly introduced from Eastern Australia, where
it is found as a noble tree, fully forty feet high, or, according to C.
Hartmann, even sixty feet high. In Tahiti the tree is small, and in the
dense jungles hardly exceeds the size of a shrub. The stem, as well as
its numerous slender, wide-spreading, prickly branches, is very crooked.
The fruit is similar to the lemon, but much smaller in size, being only
about one and one-half inches in diameter, and almost globular in shape,
with a smooth, green, thin rind and an extremely acid, pungent juice.
For a thirst-quenching drink, the lime-juice is far preferable to the
lemon.

_Pomegranate_.—The fruit of _Punica Granatum_, a shrub belonging to the
natural order _Granataceæ_. This historic and useful shrub grows
luxuriantly and with little or no care, in the fertile, sun-kissed soil
of Tahiti. More than one-half of the interior of the oval purple fruit
consists of large black seeds. The seedless variety has evidently never
been introduced. The juice is subacid and very palatable. The flowers
are ornamental, and sometimes are double. The rind of the fruit and the
bark of the roots possess valuable medicinal properties. Consider for a
moment what nature has done for the support, comfort and pleasure of the
inhabitants of Tahiti, and we are ready to admit the truth of what the
prince of poets said:

  Here is everything advantageous to life.

  SHAKESPEARE.

And we can answer with a positive yes the question proposed by another
famous poet, in the beautiful stanza:

  Know'st thou the land where the lemon trees bloom,

  Where the gold orange glows in the deep thicket's gloom,

  Where a wind ever soft from the blue heaven blows,

  And the groves are of laurel and myrtle and rose?

  GOETHE.



THE FORESTS OF TAHITI

The primeval forests are the pride of Tahiti. Indirectly they are the
wealth of the little island. They have been spared the ravages of the
woodman's ax. The forests have been kind to the natives and the natives
to the forests. The avaricious lumberman, the greatest enemy of public
wealth and general prosperity, has fortunately so far not had a design
on the magnificent forests of Tahiti, and may he never be permitted to
carry on his work of destruction in this island paradise! The giant
trees, growing the finest and most valuable timber, hold out much
inducement to get-rich-quick men, but they have been destined for a
better purpose; they, with the more menial companions, the humble, lowly
shrubs, attract the clouds, determine rain, retain moisture and fill the
river-beds, creeks and rivulets with the purest water. The forests
extend from the shore to near the highest mountain-peaks, making up one
great green sea of foliage, interrupted here and there by the summits of
hills, ridges, and bare spots of brown, volcanic earth, where vegetation
of any kind has been forbidden to take a foothold. Along and near the
coast are the charming groves of cocoa-palms, where the ordinary trees,
out of deference to the queen of the tropic forests, are few and modest
in their ambition to compete with her in height. Here the guava shrub,
groaning under the weight of its golden fruit, adds to the beauty of the
grove. A walk through such a grove, with glimpses of the blue ocean and
the verdant tree-clad hills and mountains, will bring the conviction
that

  The groves were God's first temples.

  BRYANT.

Raising the eyes and looking up the steep incline of the mountains
clothed in perennial verdure by a dense virgin forest, we are almost
instinctively reminded of the beautiful lines of Dryden:

  There stood a forest on the mountain's brow, which

  overlook'd the shady plains below;

  No sounding axe presumed these trees to bite, coeval

  with the world; a venerable sight.

The forest in the tropics has no rest. From one end of the year to the
other, it appears the same. There is no general disrobing at the bidding
of an uncompromising, stern winter. There are no arctic chills to suffer
and no burden of snow to brave. Most of the trees are evergreen, and the
few that imitate the example of their kind in the North by an annual
change of their leaves, perform this task almost imperceptibly. There
are no bald crowns and bare arms. Spring, summer and autumn mingle
throughout the year; blossoming and ripe fruits go hand in hand in the
same tree or neighboring trees. A walk through a tropic forest is no
easy thing, owing to the dense interlacing and often prickly
undergrowth, but the visitor is amply rewarded for his efforts. Every
step brings new revelations, new surprises. Nowhere are there any signs
of deforestation, either by fire or the cruel, thoughtless hand of man.
You are in a forest

  Where the rude ax, with heaved stroke,

  Was never heard the nymphs to daunt,

  Or frown them from their hallow'd haunts.

  MILTON.

The biggest trees are in the shaded, rich ravines and far up on the
mountainside or hill-tops. They seem to be conscious of their
superiority and power in the selection of their abode. Look at one of
these monsters, with wide-spread, giant branches and impenetrable
foliage, and

  View well this tree, the queen of all the grove;

  How vast her bole, how wide her arms are spread.

  How high above the rest she shoots her head!

  DRYDEN.



But in these forests, so full of life and perpetual activity,
indications of death are seen here and there. The numerous climbing
vines which, serpent-like, creep up and embrace in their deathly grasp
some young, vigorous tree, have no good intentions for their patient,
helpless host. The struggle may last for years, but the ultimate result
is sure. The cruelty of the unwelcome intruder increases with his age
and, strength. The fight for life becomes more and more intense. The
plant-serpent throttles its victim more and more, penetrates its body
with its additional roots, and sucks the very life-blood from its
vitals. What promised to become the giant of the forest sickens and
succumbs to a slow, lingering, ignominious death. The victory is
complete and he now stands with

  Pithless arms, like a wither'd vine,

  That droops his sapless branches to the ground.

  SHAKESPEARE.

The ruthless climber has accomplished its purpose and it has become so
strong and has made such intricate interlacements with adjoining trees
that it holds the corpse erect in its cold embrace for an indefinite
period of time, until some strong wind lays low forever the victor with
the vanquished.

Like everywhere else where the soil is fertile and other conditions for
plant-growth favorable, so in the Tahitian forest, rank plant-life
prospers. The lantana (Lantana Crocca) a shrubby plant two to four feet
high, with beautiful little yellow and purple flowers arranged in
umbels, has overrun the whole island. It is here, as in some of the
other islands of the Pacific, the most aggressive and most troublesome
of all weeds, and it is this plant which interferes with a more abundant
growth of grass and consequently with a more productive pasturage in
wild and cultivated grounds.

The sense of isolation and solitude is nowhere more profound than in a
tropical forest, and more especially so in Tahiti, as here animal life
is scarce. The only game found are domestic hogs and chickens, which
have run wild, and these are scarce. There are no birds of plumage and
few song-birds. Chameleons frequent sunny spots, and butterflies, of all
sizes and colors, enliven the air. There are no snakes and few poisonous
insects; no deer, bear, leopards or monkeys. Even the ordinary
water-birds, with the exception of a small species of sea-gull and
occasionally a crane, seem to avoid this island.

A day spent in the wonderful forests of Tahiti will bring no regrets; on
the other hand, will be replete with pleasure and profit, and will leave
charming pictures on memory's tablet which time can never efface. On the
brightest day, darkness reigns underneath the almost impenetrable roof
of branches, vines and foliage. Here and there the sun's rays penetrate
through the gigantic bowery maze, and fall upon the ground with almost
unnatural intensity, frequently appearing and disappearing as the wind
plays with the leaves.

  The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind,

  And make a checker'd shadow on the ground.

  SHAKESPEARE.

The solemn silence of the forest, the grandeur of vegetation, the
effects of light and shadows, are impressive, and the visitor will carry
away from Tahiti an inspiring and lasting mental picture of

  Her forests huge,

  Incult, robust, and tall, by Nature's hand

  Planted of old.

  THOMSON.

NOTED FOREST TREES OF TAHITI

The forests of Tahiti comprise many species of trees, the timber of
which would command a high price in the market, but it is my intention
here to enumerate and briefly describe only a few of the trees which
interest the visitor the most, as he will see them wherever he goes as
shade trees, and as component parts of the magnificent forests.

_Purau or Burao_ is the _Hibiscus tiliaceus_ (Linné), (syn.: _Paritium
tiliaceum_), order _Malvaceæ_. The flowers are bell-shaped, of a beautiful
canary color, but quickly fall and turn to red or reddish brown. They
are made up of five imbricated petals, painted a dark brown at their
base and inner surface. The glaucous leaf-like calix is five-parted. The
five stamens form a sheath for the pistil, which is five-parted and
brown at its apex. The large leaves are used by the native housewives in
lieu of a table-cloth. It is said that the macerated leaves and flowers
are used to heal burns, bruises, etc. (McDaniels). The trunks of the
largest trees are made into canoes. The inner tough bark serves as a
substitute for hemp in the making of twine and ropes. The roots of this
tree have earned a reputation as a valuable medicine in the treatment of
diseases of the gastro-intestinal canal. This is a common and beautiful
shade tree in Papeete, and if the traveler visits the island in January
or February he will find it in full bloom. The dark green leaves and the
light yellow flowers form a very pleasing contrast. It attains a height
of from forty to sixty and more feet. The short and often very crooked
stem sends off numerous large branches, clothed, like the stem, in a
rough black bark. The branches are often so crooked and tortuous that
they form such an intricate entanglement that even the woodman's ax
would meet with difficulties to isolate and liberate them. The branches
appear to have an intrinsic tendency to reach the ground, and when they
do so strike root and become daughter trees, growing skyward, and soon
rival in height the parent tree. In the woods it is not uncommon to find
the parent tree surrounded at variable distances by numerous daughter
trees. Many such ambitious branches are formed into graceful arches
before they attain the wished-for independence. This tree, with its
numerous offspring and interlacing branches, contributes much in
rendering the jungles in which it grows impenetrable in many places. The
wood is white and soft. The leaves are as large as an ordinary small
soup-plate, long-petioled, seven-ribbed, broadly cordate and acuminate,
dark green and glossy on their upper, and strongly veined and paler, on
their lower surface.



_Banyan Tree_.—The _Ficus Indica_, a native tree of India, remarkable for
its vast rooting branches, outstripping in this respect by far the tree
just described. It is a species of wild fig, has ovate, heart-shaped,
entire leaves, about five or six inches long, and produces a fruit of a
rich scarlet color, not larger than a cherry, growing in pairs front the
axils of the leaves. The branches send shoots downwards, which, when
they have rooted, become stems; the tree in this manner spreading over a
great surface, and enduring for many years. The banyan tree found in the
island of Tahiti docs not spread as much as the Indian tree, and the
aerial roots which later become a part of the trunk after they strike
the ground and develop an independent existence, become supplied with
new roots. Most of the aerial roots of the Tahitian tree take their
origin from the lower part of the trunk and remain in close contact with
it after they strike the ground, and many of them remain dangling free
in the air in vain attempts to secure an independent existence, the
branch roots being comparatively few. The tree is found at short
intervals along the ninety-mile drive, and the largest one I saw was in
the front yard of the Cercle Bougainville, the French club in Papeete.

_Pandanus Tree, Screw Pine_.—The _Pandanus Freycinctia_ natural order of
_Pandaneæ_. There are about fifty species of this tree, natives of South
Africa to Polynesia. The pandanus tree of Tahiti is a palm-like tree
which is found along the shore close to the water's edge, with a short
white stem, much branched with long, simple imbricated leaves, usually
spiny on the back and margin, their base embracing the stem, their
spiral arrangement being well marked. The base of the stem does not
touch the ground, but rests on a cluster of strong roots, which diverge
somewhat before they strike the soil. The leaves are much used for
thatch roofs and the thin, compact, superficial layer serves as wrappers
for the native cigarettes. The fruit is edible and is eaten by the
natives in times of scarcity of food.

_Flame Tree, Flamboyer_.—The _Brachychiton acerifolium_ is the Australian
flame-tree introduced, as is asserted, into Tahiti by Bougainville. It
is a magnificent and common shade tree in Papeete, but is also found
scattered all along the coast of the island. It is an evergreen tree
with showy trusses of crimson flowers. This is the most beautiful of all
ornamental trees in the island. The mucilaginous sap, when exuded,
indurates to a kind of bassarin—tragacanth.

VANILLA CULTIVATION IN TAHITI

The cultivation of the aromatic vanilla-bean is one of the principal
industries of Tahiti. The bean grows luxuriantly in the shady forests in
the lowlands along the coast, and requires but little care. The climate
and soil of Tahiti are specially adapted to the cultivation of the
vanilla-bean, as the very best quality is grown here. The _Vanilla
aromatica_ is a genus of parasitic _Orchidaceæ_, a native of tropic parts
of America and Asia, which springs at first from the ground and climbs
with twining stems to the height of from twenty to thirty feet on trees,
sending into them fibrous roots, produced from nodes, from which the
leaves grow. These roots, drawing the sap from the trees, sustain the
plant, even after the ground-root has been destroyed. Flower white;
corolla tubular; stigma distant from anthers, rendering spontaneous
fructification difficult; leaves oblong, light green, fleshy, with an
exceedingly acrid juice; flowers in spikes, very large, fleshy and
generally fragrant. The fruit is a pod-like, fleshy capsule, opening
along the side. The ripe bean is cylindrical, about nine inches in
length, and less than half an inch thick. It is gathered before it is
entirely ripe, and dried in the shade. It contains within its tough
pericarp a soft black pulp, in which many minute seeds are imbedded. The
plant is cultivated by cuttings. In Mexico and South American countries,
the insects effect impregnation; in Tahiti, this is done artificially.
With a small, sharp stick the pollen is conveyed to the stigma of the
pistil. Artificial impregnation of fifteen hundred flowers is considered
a good day's work. Allusion has been made elsewhere to the fact that the
shrewd Chinamen have depreciated the vanilla industry in Tahiti and
ruined the reputation of the product. If the natives could be induced to
stop their dealings with the scheming Chinese merchants and traders, and
the government would release them from export duty, the cultivation of
vanilla would soon regain its former importance and would yield a very
profitable income. The Tahitians are not agriculturists; they are averse
to hard manual labor; they are

  Of proud-lived loiterers, that never sow,

  Nor put a plant in earth, nor use a plough.

  CHAPMAN.

and hence are anxious to obtain what little money they need with as
little effort as possible. Vanilla, once planted, requires very little
attention, and it grows most luxuriantly in the dark shadow of the dense
forest, where the natives engaged in artificial impregnation of the
flower and in gathering the bean are protected against the direct heat
of the sun. The great advantage of vanilla-cultivation to the island
consists in the fact that this valuable article of commerce can be grown
without deforestation, so essential in the cultivation of much less
valuable products of the soil of the tropics.



THE RURAL DISTRICTS

Papeete is not the place to study the natives, their habits and customs,
as European influence and example have here largely effaced the
simplicity and charms of native life. The rural districts are the places
for the tourist to get glimpses of real native life. He will find there
the best specimens of natives, and an opportunity to study their
primitive methods of living. There is no other island of similar size
where the traveler will find it so easy to visit all of the rural
districts and villages. By following the ninety-mile drive, he can
encircle the entire island in a comfortable carriage, and finish the
trip in four days, if his time is limited, and in doing so he sees the
inhabited part of the island and nearly all of the villages. He will see
on this trip Paea Grotto and cave, also picnic-grounds, eighteen miles
from Papeete, Papara, six miles further, is noted for native singing,
chanting and dancing. The real Tahitian life is met at Pari and Tautira.
On the other side of the island, the road skirts along the coast and
ascends five hundred feet above the level of the sea. The drive is a
charming one, as the traveler never loses the sight of mountains and
hills, and only very seldom, and at long intervals, of the blue Pacific
Ocean. In some places the road-bed is cut through solid rock, and for a
few moments the panoramic view of the magnificent scenery is shut out
from sight, but on the other side of the cut a picture more beautiful
than ever is unrolled. The ocean claims the first attention as it smiles
in the dazzling sunshine beneath where

  The murmuring surge,

  That on th' unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes.

  Can not be heard so high.

  SHAKESPEARE.

In the distance we can see the foam-crested waves dash over the coral
reef in their attempts to reach the placid waters of the peaceful
lagoon, where the wavelets play with the pebbles on the shore. Looking
toward the left, we again are face to face with the mountains, that are
our constant companions, on the entire route. There is a feeling of
solemnity which takes possession of the soul when communing with Nature
in her grandest mood, and we begin to feel that

  I live not myself, but I become

  Portion of that around me; and to me

  High mountains are a feeling; but the hum

  Of human cities, torture.

  BYRON.

We see the naked mountain-peaks and the bare backs of the foot-hills.

  Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun.

  BRYANT.

We pass through magnificent groves of cocoa-palms, and now the road
leads through a primeval forest with an impenetrable jungle on its
floor, where

  The winds within the quiv'ring branches play'd,

  And dancing trees a mournful music made.

  DRYDEN.

We pass through or near the quaint native villages peopled with naked
children, scantily dressed women, and men whose only garment consists of
a much-checkered, many-colored calico loin-cloth. We cross rivers,
brooks and rivulets without number, and looking for their source we see
glimpses, here and there, of cascades and cataracts, high up on the
mountainside, in the form of streaks of silver in the clefts of the deep
green ocean of trees. We see butterflies by the hundreds, of all colors,
playing in the sunshine or eagerly devouring the nectar of the sweetest
flowers. We admire the richness and variety of the floral kingdom, and
inhale the perfume of the fragrant flowers, suspended in the pure air
and wafted to us by the cool land breeze sent down from the top of the
mountains. As the sun approaches the horizon, and the short, bewitching
twilight sets in, with the gorgeous display of colors in the sky and the
wonderful effects of light and shadow on sea and shore, we can realize
that

  Softly the evening came. The sun from the western horizon

  Like a magician extended his golden wand o'er the landscape;

  Twinkling vapors arose; and sky, and water, and forest.

  Seemed all on fire at the touch, and melted and mingled together.

  LONGFELLOW.

The vistas and views along this circular drive are infinite; the
surprises at every turn without number. No matter how much the visitor
may have traveled, even if he has seen the whole world outside of this
blessed island, he will see here many things he has never seen before.
Every step brings new revelations of the beauty and goodness of Nature
and her tender care for man. What a paradise for lovers of nature, for
poets and artists! Here is a place above all others in the world, where

  No tears

  Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.

  LONGFELLOW.

The further the visitor wends his way from Papeete, the more he will
find the natives in their natural state, and the less contaminated by
European influence. On the opposite side of the island, at Pari, the
people have preserved their native customs, and live now about in the
same manner as when Wallis discovered the island. Religion and
civilization have liberated them from ancient barbarities, but have had
little influence in changing their customs, for

  Custom has an ascendency over the understanding.

  DR. I. WATTS.

All of the villages scattered at short intervals along the ninety-mile
drive are small; the largest with not more than five hundred
inhabitants. In Papeete, and between it and Papara, the natives live in
small frame houses, built on piling several feet above the ground,
covered with a roof of corrugated iron, and made more spacious and
comfortable by a veranda facing the road. Few native houses are
encountered on this part of the journey. Beyond Papara they are the
rule, and these retain their primitive charm. They are built of upright
sticks of bamboo, lashed side by side to a frame of stripped poles in
the form of an oval. Upon this is a heavy roof of pandanus thatch
covering a cool, well-ventilated, sanitary home. The air circulates
freely through the open spaces between the poles, as well as between the
two doorways on opposite sides of the house. Mats take the place of a
floor.



Cooking is done outside without the use of a stove. The native oven is a
very simple affair, as it consists of a layer of stones upon which a
fire is built. When heated to the requisite degree—and this is a matter
the experienced housewife must determine—the food is placed amid the
embers, wrapped in pieces of banana leaves and covered over with piles
of damp breadfruit leaves. Breadfruit, taro, green bananas and
plantains, are the articles of food prepared in this way. The roasting
of a pig, the favorite meat of the South Sea Islanders, is a more
complicated process, and to do it well requires much experience. A hole
is dug in the ground and paved with stones, upon which a fire is built.
When the stones are thoroughly heated and the fire exhausted or
extinguished, the whole animal, properly prepared and wrapped in leaves,
is placed in the pit, covered with damp leaves and loose earth. On great
festive occasions, fowl and fish are added to the contents of the pit.
The pork, fowl and fish cooked in this manner are delicious, and the
slightly smoky taste only adds to their savoriness. It is the pride of
the cook to remove the roasted pig without mutilation, usually a very
delicate task. Chicken, boiled in the milk of the cocoanut, is another
masterpiece of native cookery. The cocoanut is prepared in many ways for
the table and a sauce made of the compressed juice of the grated nut,
mixed with lime juice and sea-water, makes a most palatable sauce for
meats and fish.

House-building and housekeeping are free from care and never ruffle the
family peace. If a young couple desire to establish a home of their own,
they signify their intentions to their friends and neighbors. These
gather, usually Sunday afternoon at two o'clock, at the place selected
for the new home, bring bamboo sticks, poles and pandanus leaves, and at
sundown the house is ready for occupation. The pandanus roof does
efficient service for about seven years, when it has to be removed and
replaced by a new one. The bamboo framework, properly protected, lasts
for a much longer time. As the whole house consists of a single oval
room, is floorless and not encumbered by furniture of any kind, the
house-wife has an easy existence, more especially as the children can
not outwear their clothing, and their husband's loin-cloths need no
repairs.

While meat in Tahiti is scarce, every family has an easy access to a
rich fish-supply. The fish which swarm in the lagoons and outside of the
reefs furnish an easily secured food-supply. They are caught in
different ways—by hook or netting—and not the least picturesque way is
the torchlight fishing on the lagoon. Torches are improvised of long
cocoa-palm leaves tied into rolls. With a boat-load of these, together
with nets and spears, the fishermen in their canoes paddle out upon the
water after dark. Flying fish, attracted by the light, shoot overhead
and are dexterously caught in a hand-net. Other kinds of fish, by aid of
the light, are speared over the side of the canoe. _Dolphin_ and bonita,
the latter a favorite fish, are taken with the hook and line, in larger
canoes sailing on the open sea, but this kind of fishing is left to a
few hardy men. The women scoop up small river-fish in baskets, and
drag-nets are used in capturing the many varieties of small fish of the
lagoon. While the fish are being cooked in the underground oven, some
member of the family goes into the adjacent forest and in a short time
returns with breadfruit, and a variety of fruits, to make up a dainty
and substantial repast.

The island is divided into seventeen districts and each district has its
own chief, who is entrusted with the local government. The chiefs are
elected by popular vote every few years, the office being no longer
hereditary. The chief resides in the principal village of his district
and here is to be invariably found a government school, a Protestant and
a Catholic church with its respective parochial school, and a
meeting-house which serves as a gathering-place for the annual native
plays and on all occasions of public concern. A daily mail supplies the
rural population with the news of the island and keeps them in touch
with the outside world. Abject poverty in the city and country is
unknown, and begging is looked upon as a disgrace. There is neither
wealth nor poverty in Tahiti. The people have all they need and all they
desire, and

  Poor and content is rich, and rich enough.

  SHAKESPEARE.

I am quite sure that the tourist who has tasted freely of modern life
such as it now is in our large cities, with all its cares and
temptations, all its unrealness and disappointments, when he has seen
the happy, contented, free-from-care Tahitians, in their charming island
and simple homes, will be willing to confess:

  For my part, I should prefer to be always poor, in blessings such as
  these.

  HORATIUS.

and

  Everything that exceeds the bounds of moderation has an unstable
  foundation.

  SENECA.



POINT VENUS

Every visitor to Tahiti should visit Point Venus, as it is a historic
place near where the Europeans made their first landings in Matavai Bay,
and where the first white settlers cast their lot with the natives. It
is in this neighborhood where the English missionaries established their
permanent home and from here spread the new tidings of the gospel over
the entire island. They labored in vain for nearly twenty years, when
all at once a religious wave swept over the island which resulted in the
speedy Christianization of almost the entire population. I have already
referred to Point Venus as the place where the government lighthouse is
located and where Captain Cook had his headquarters when he and the
scientists who accompanied him observed the transit of Venus by order of
the English government in the year 1769. The place where the scientific
observations were made is marked by a modest monument of stone
surrounded by an iron railing, on which are inscribed the data
commemorative of the work accomplished. Close by this monument, on the
most prominent point, has been erected the lighthouse which guides the
mariner in approaching the island during the night. The distance from
Papeete to Point Venus is seven miles, over a macadamized road which we
found in a somewhat neglected condition. Two native villages, Pirae and
Arue, are passed on the way, and a third, Haapape, is close by. The road
leads through groves of cocoa-palms, primeval forests and jungles, and a
part of it skirts the foot-hills of the towering mountains. Most of the
time the beautiful lagoon, dotted here and there with fishermen's
canoes, is in sight. The calmness of the air, the solemnity of the
surroundings and the sight of these canoes on the unruffled lagoon,
reminded us of

  Low stir of leaves and dip of oars

  And lapsing waves on quiet shores.

  WHITTIER.

Some of the more daring fishermen we saw outside of the reef, in the
same frail crafts, battling with a rougher sea, but the skilled use of
their very primitive paddles kept the canoes in good motion and steady,
and it seemed

  She walks the waters like a thing of life,

  And seems to dare the elements to strife,

  BYRON.

Matavai Bay, which the road follows for a considerable distance, is a
beautiful sheet of water. It was in this bay that the ships of the early
voyagers found a resting-place, and where on its shore the first white
men touched the soil of Tahiti and came face to face with a people who
had never heard of a world outside of the islands of the Pacific. The
scenery all along this drive is truly tropical. The floral wealth is
great and its variety endless. It was on this drive I found the
passion-flower in full bloom and exquisite beauty.

Near Point Venus we met a gang of natives, in charge of the chief of the
district, engaged in repairing the road. All except the chief were in
loin-cloths as their only article of dress. They worked leisurely, and
smoked and chatted in a way that showed that they were happy even when
bearing the burden of the day and the scorching rays of the tropic sun,
with nothing in view for their ten-o'clock breakfast but the cool
mountain water instead of coffee, breadfruit or plantain (_fei_) for
bread, and some fruit gathered in the woods on their way to work.

The round trip from Papeete to Point Venus can be made in three hours,
and gives one a very excellent idea of the general topography of the
island and is replete with both pleasure and profit.

FAUTAHUA VALLEY

The next interesting short drive from Papeete is to the Fautahua Valley,
distance four miles. It is noted for delightful river scenery and tropic
vegetation, and at the end of the valley is a beautiful waterfall. This
charming valley, with its typical tropic scenery enclosed by towering
mountains and resounding with the rippling, dashing music of a turbulent
mountain stream and the babbling and murmuring of the many brooks and
rivulets of pure crystal water which feed it, is well worth a visit.
This valley was once densely populated, if we can judge from the
abundance of imported fruit trees and the coffee shrub which now
flourish in the forest unaided by the care of man, while, at the present
time, the native huts are few and far apart. Wild arrowroot grows here
in profusion, and a variety of exogenous shade trees have become an
important component part of the primeval forest, rendered almost
impenetrable by vines and a dense undergrowth. A carriage-road extends
to Fashoda Bridge, well up in the mountains, beyond which it leads up
the gorge, past a waterfall which leaps over a rocky rim, where the
mountains join to the bed of the stream, six hundred feet below. In
different places the romantic mountain road is spanned by graceful
arches of branches of the pauru tree, ambitious to find on the opposite
side of the road an independent existence from the parent tree. One of
the large, quiet pools below the Fashoda Bridge, a favorite
bathing-place for women and their daughters, has been made famous by the
writings of Pierre Loti, a French author.

From Fashoda Bridge a bridle path leads up a very steep incline to the
French military post in the very heart of the mountains, six thousand
feet above the level of the sea. It was here that the natives made their
last stand in their war with France. A little beyond the fort rise the
crags which compose "the Diadem," a conspicuous landmark in the
mountains of Tahiti.

The view from Fashoda Bridge in all directions is inspiring: at the end
of the gorge the waterfall dashing over the volcanic rock, pulverized at
many points in its descent into silvery spray; the tree-clad mountains
on each side with their steeples of bare rock; beneath, the wild
mountain stream, speeding to find rest in the quiet basin below; and all
around, the rank vegetation which only the tropics under the most
favorable conditions can grow, and above, the clear blue sky,
brilliantly illuminated by the morning sun. As late as nine o'clock in
the forenoon we found everything bathed in a heavy dew, which added much
to the beauty and freshness of the incomparable scenery.

Near the bridge, leading a pack-mule, we met a soldier on his way to the
city for supplies for the small garrison in charge of the fort. Military
duty at this lone isolated station must certainly prove monotonous, as
from the bridge the only way to reach the fort is either on foot or
mule-back. The quietude of this peaceful valley, at the time of our
visit, was disturbed by a large force of native laborers who were laying
the pipes for the new city waterworks.



VILLAGE OF PAPARA

The village of Papara, the largest in the island, has been the
acknowledged stronghold of the Tevas for centuries. Here the powerful
chiefs of the clan have ruled their subjects with an inborn sense of
justice until their jurisdiction and, power were curtailed by foreign
intervention. For a long time the ruling house of the Tevas dominated
the social and political life of the island. It was at Papara that the
largest and most imposing marae was built, consisting of a huge pile of
stones in the form of a truncated cone, the ruins of which still remain
as a silent reminder of the political power of the Tevas lone before the
white man cast his greedy eyes upon this island paradise.

The district of Papara, of which the village of about five hundred
inhabitants is the seat of the local government, is the most fertile and
prosperous of all the seventeen districts into which the island is at
present divided. Tati Salmon, son of Ariitaimai, the famed chiefess and
historian of the island, is the present chief. He was educated in
London, is highly respected by the foreigners and natives alike, and
owns about one-third of the island. He lives in a charming old-fashioned
house, the original part of which was built more than a century ago. The
house is situated at the mouth of a large mountain stream, and faces the
broad lagoon hemmed in by a coral reef, over which the surf dashes from
day to day and from year to year with the same regularity, with the same
splashing and moaning sounds of the waves as they leap from the restless
ocean beyond into the peaceful bosom of the calm lagoon.

Papara, like all of the native villages, is located on the circular road
familiarly known as the ninety-mile drive. The road from Papeete to
Papara, a distance of twenty miles, leads through the most picturesque
and interesting part of the island. The road is a genuine chaussee,
constructed at great expense by the French government, and is kept in
excellent repair. For the most part it follows the coast in full view of
the lagoon and the ocean beyond, and, for more than one-half of the
distance, the smaller volcanic sister island, Moorea, is in sight. The
mountains are constantly in sight, ceaselessly changing in their aspects
with distance and change of perspective. The narrow strip of coast-land
is covered with a thick layer of the most productive soil upon a
foundation of rock and red volcanic earth. Vegetation everywhere is
rampant and extends from the very edge of the lagoon to the naked
pinnacles of the mountains. In many places the road skirts the
foot-hills, and at different points the precipitous mountains rise from
the bed of the lagoon, where the road-bed had to be made by blasting
away a part of their firm foundation of volcanic stone.

The traveler on the whole trip is never without the companionship of the
branchless, slender, graceful cocoa-palms, with their terminal crown of
giant leaves, clusters of blossoms, and nuts of all sizes and stages of
maturity. A stately forest of cocoa-palms like those found on the coast
of Tahiti is a sight that can not fail to interest and fascinate the
Northerner fresh from zero weather, snow and ice. The straight, columnar
trunks, with their sail-like terminal fronds and clusters of fruit in
all stages of development from the blossom to the golden yellow of the
ripe nut, are objects of study and admiration which create in the
visitor a strong and lasting attachment for the tropics. There is no
other spot on the globe where the tourist can see larger and more
beautiful palm forests than on the circular road between Papeete and
Papara. The cocoa-palm is queen here, as there is no other tree among
its many neighbors that has succeeded in equaling it in height. The
lofty, proud head of the palm has no competitor; it is alone in that
stratum of air and looks down upon the plebeian trees beneath with a
sense of superiority, if not of scorn. For miles this road passes
through magnificent forests of cocoa-palms, with a heavy undergrowth of
guava, extending from the shore high up the foot-hills and
mountainsides. The cocoa-palm is fond of salt water and thrives best
when its innumerable slender, long roots can imbibe it from the briny
shore.

The pandanus tree is even more partial to a soil impregnated with salt
water. On this drive this tree is frequently seen, and in preference at
the very brink of the coast, with the butt-end of the trunk high in the
air, resting on a colonnade of numerous powerful, slightly diverging
roots. Another tree omnipresent on this drive is the pauru tree, with
its large leaves and charming cream-yellow, salver-shaped flowers. This
tree loves the dark, shady jungles, where its tortuous branches mingle
freely with the dense undergrowth and climbing plants.

The views that present themselves on this drive at every turn are simply
bewitching and vary with every curve of the road. The gentle ocean
breeze that fans the flushed face of the raptured traveler is lost when
the road leaves the coast and plunges into a primeval forest, when

  Gradual sinks the breeze

  Into a perfect calm; that not a breath

  Is heard to quiver through the closing wood.

  THOMSON.



As the carriage emerges from the dark shades of the forest into the
dazzling sunlight in full view of the near-by ocean again.

  The winds, with wonder whist,

  Smoothly the waters kiss'd,

  Whispering new joys to the mild ocean.

  MILTON.

Every turn of the wheel on this winding road brings new delights. The
views of mountains and ocean, the strange trees and flowers, the
childlike natives and their dusky, naked children, the quaint villages,
the turbulent mountain streams and the diminutive cataracts and
waterfalls, framed in emerald green on the mountain-sides, enchant the
eye and stimulate the mind every moment. These little waterfalls have
excavated the hardest rocks and have chiseled out, in the course of
centuries, crevices and caves of the strangest designs.

The floral wealth of Tahiti is immense. Mr. McDaniel, of Los Angeles,
Cal., during a several-months' visit to the island, analyzed and
classified two thousand different kinds of plants. Some of the flowers
are gorgeous, others yield a sweet perfume which is diffused through the
pure air, imparting to it the balmy character for which it has become
famous. An acquaintance with these flowers suggests:

  Were I, O God, in churchless lands remaining,

  Far from all voice of teachers or divines,

  My soul would find, in flowers of thy ordaining,

  Priests, sermons, shrines.

  SHAKESPEARE.

At a sudden turn of the road a vista is disclosed that defies
description. In the open roadway, brilliantly illuminated by the noonday
sun, in the distance, a flame-tree, with its flowers of fire, dazzles
the eyes, and its grandeur and beauty increase as we approach it, while,
in a few moments, what appeared as an apparition is behind us, and the
tension of vision is relieved by a long, restful look over the limitless
expanse of the blue sea. I have seen the flame-tree in different
countries, but the sight of this one, with its magic surroundings, made
a picture of exquisite beauty which forcibly recalled the lines:

  The spreading branches made a goodly show,

  And full of opening blooms was ev'ry bough.

  DRYDEN.

The numerous villages of land-crabs met on this drive afford amusement
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.

In one of the far-off isles of the South Seas, in the garden-spot of the
Pacific, in golden Tahiti, about the year 1848, when Victoria was a
young queen and mother, when France was in the throes of a second
revolution, when the United States, a young republic, was still on trial
before the old world, there was enacted one of the most touching dramas
history has ever recorded, and this among a people considered savages by
the so-called civilized world, and almost unknown until discovered
through the missionary fervor of a few priests. The place, a small
island, only a speck on the map; the _dramatis personæ_, France, England
and America, the hereditary chiefs of a people who for forty generations
had known no other rulers, a weak, vacillating native queen, and a
noble-hearted native woman who knew how to be at the same time a loyal
subject, a skilled diplomat, and that rarer and more beautiful thing, a
faithful friend. If you would hear a story of friendship pure and
undefiled, listen to the story of Ariitaimai of Papara, a Tahitian of
noble birth, a child of Nature in its wildest and grandest aspect,
rocked in a gigantic cradle of sea, sky and towering mountains, in a
land of palm forests, where Nature has provided everything necessary to
the life of her children, and where the pearls are the purest. If Cicero
had known the story of Ariitaimai he would not have written in _De
Amicitia_: "But where will you find one who will not prefer to
friendship, public honors and power, one who will prefer the advancement
of his friend in public office to his own? For human nature is too weak
to despise power." But to understand this thrilling and eventful drama,
we must listen first to the chorus reciting something of the history of
this strange people, and of the position of woman in a land where
suffrage societies are unknown, and where the story of the inequality of
the sexes had never been told by book or priest. Tahiti, Matea and
Moorea are known as the Windward Islands of the Society Group in the
South Seas. The Leeward Islands comprise the four kingdoms, Huahine,
Borabora, Raiatea and Tahaa, together with some smaller islands, and are
about one hundred and twenty miles from Tahiti. But it has always been
in Tahiti, the gem of the Pacific, that the interest has been centered,
and it was here that the struggle took place between the English and the
French for supremacy in the South Seas.

It was in 1769 that Captain Cook entered Matavai Bay on his first voyage
to observe the transit of Venus. This spot is marked by a stone monument
and has been known ever since as Point Venus. At this time Cook
estimated the number of inhabitants at two hundred thousand. To-day,
after the long contention between the French and English for supremacy,
after the brave struggle of the natives against both for independence,
after all the ravages made by the diseases introduced by foreigners, and
after years of a fearful mortality caused by the enervating effect of
civilization upon a people suited only to be children of Nature, this
goodly number has been reduced to a pitiful eleven thousand. In fact,
our so-called nineteenth century civilization has succeeded in
practically exterminating a people who could produce a pearl among
womankind, a rare and tender soul, such an one as English history does
not give us, and France has produced but one, her own Jeanne D'Arc.

The government of the island has always been by chiefs and chiefesses,
no distinction of sex being made in laws of inheritance, the eldest born
inheriting the rank and estates and all the authority which the title of
chief conveys. Many of the chiefesses appear to have been exceedingly
warlike, true Amazons, contending with neighboring chiefs for more
authority and extensive possessions. Even as wives of the chiefs, women
went to war to help fight the battles of their husbands and clans. It is
reported of one of the Pomares who was of a peaceful disposition that in
one hotly contested encounter he fled to a neighboring island, leaving
his wife Iddeah to face the storm. History says that she was a great
warrior and carried the contest to a successful issue for her husband
and their possessions. It is recorded of another chief that he was not a
warrior and left the active campaigning to his wife. So it will be seen
that in the political life of Tahiti sex was not considered. Accident of
birth settled the title, and the warlike spirit miade the warrior,
whether it resided in chief or chiefess. England took a hand in the
island politics at a time when one of the weakest and most unpopular
chiefs was warring for the supremacy, and by assisting and upholding his
authority prolonged one of the most disastrous wars in the history of
Tahiti. The Tahitians detested tyranny and the insolence of a single
ruler, and in their tribal system of chiefs had a protection against
despotism which the foreigners, by their advocacy of the cause of a
special chief, afterwards Pomare I., destroyed.

Before the invasion of the English, the hereditary chief of each
district held absolute sway in his own province. Questions of common
interest were settled in the island councils by majority vote, and it
was in these deliberations that the chiefs of Papara had for generations
held the balance of political power. Politically, the change was
disastrous. In olden times whenever a single chief became arrogant and
threatened to destroy the rest, all the others united to overthrow him
and thus re-established the political equilibrium.

Ariitaimai belonged to the Clan of Tevas, of the chiefery of Papara, and
the family of Tati. She belonged to the clan which was ruled by Opuhara,
the last of the heathen chiefs who went down in the conflict with Pomare
II., who with the help of English guns was made absolute monarch of the
island. This conflict between Opuhara and the English, because Pomare
was only an instrument in their hands to accomplish the conquest of the
island, is responsible for the bitter hatred of the genuine natives for
the foreigners and the missionaries.

Opuhara was considered the greatest warrior and hero of the Tevas, and
his death, the result of a stratagem on the part of Pomare and the
English missionaries, is considered by his people a veritable
assassination. He fell by a shot fired by a native missionary convert.
Tati, one of the under-chiefs of Papara, had been persuaded by the
English to approach Opuhara to negotiate with him for submission. But
Opuhara turned on him with scorn. "Go, traitor," he said; "shame on you!
you, whom I knew as my eldest brother, I know no more; and to-day I call
this my spear, 'Ourihere,' brotherless. Beware of it, for if it meet you
hereafter, it meets you as a foe. I, Opuhara, have stood as Arii in Mona
Temaiti, bowing to no other Gods but those of my fathers. There I shall
stand to the end; and never shall I bow to Pomara or to the Gods forced
on us by the white-faced man." With Opuhara perished the last hope of
the native patriots to preserve a government of chiefs. His dying words
were all that was left to his clan of the glory and power of Papara. "My
children, fight to the last! It is noon, and I, Opuhara, the _ti_ of Mona
Temaiti, am broken asunder!" He fell a martyr to his belief in the
heathen gods, and in the ancient inherited rights of his people: a
tribal government. His followers have always firmly believed that
Opuhara would have won the contest had not the missionaries brought
their guns along with their Bibles.

It was this belief that Ariitaimai inherited with the beautiful lands of
Papara. She says in her memoirs: "I am told that Opuhara's spear,
'Brotherless Ourihere,' is now in the Museum of the Louvre. Even in
those days there were among all his warriors only two who could wield
it. If the missionaries have sometimes doubted whether the natives
rightly understood the truths and blessings of Christianity, perhaps one
reason may be that the Tevas remember how the missionaries fought for
Pomare and killed Opuhara."

Marama, the mother of Ariitaimai, was a celebrated chiefess in her own
right, the sole heir of Marama, the head chief of Moorea, the nearest
island to Tahiti. She was a great heiress, and the last representative
of the sacred families of these two islands. She was given in marriage,
as a political compromise and at the special request of King Pomare, to
Tati's son, the head chief of Tahiti. It was also agreed that all issue
of the marriage should become the adopted children of Pomare, according
to an ancient Tahitian custom. The family is a great institution in
Tahiti and any one whose parents both by birth and adoption had been
carried to the family Marae with offerings to the gods, enjoyed a rare
social distinction. This Ariitaimai could claim, so from her birth she
was looked upon by the islanders as an especially favored and
much-to-be-treasured maiden. It may be that this great respect shown
towards her by the entire people did much to mold her character. The
Tahitian mother has little to say in regard to the training of her
first-born, as this one is considered to belong to the family as a
whole, and all questions of general interest are settled in family
council. And so it was with Ariitaimai. She saw little of her mother,
but was in constant touch with the family chiefs from whom, no doubt,
she learned lessons in diplomacy, and from listening to their councils
she acquired that rare good judgment which fitted her later to be the
accepted advisor of her teachers. She mastered both the French and the
English languages, and her memoirs show a wonderful knowledge of the
literature of both countries, as well as a wide and comprehensive
reading of classical authors. While Ariitaimai was growing to womanhood,
the pride and special care of the chiefs of Papara, another maiden was
receiving equal care and attention on a neighboring island. Aimata of
Raiatea, the daughter of Pomare II., was only nine years old when her
father died and she was given into the care of the head chief Uata, who
was a good and learned man.



These two young girls who were destined to play such an important rôle
in the history of their country, grew up under much the same influences
and developed characters as widely different as the antipodes. They saw
each other only occasionally until Aimata's mother sent one day for
Ariitaimai to make a long visit at the royal castle, as was the custom
among the islanders, as Pomare had claimed her as his adopted daughter
according to the ante-natal contract. Here blossomed and grew the
friendship which was destined later to save to Pomare IV. her throne,
and to deliver Tahiti from a war which could only have resulted in the
extermination of the native population and the destruction of the island
as an independent government. The real struggle between France and
England for the possession of the island began in 1836, when two French
priests landed at Tahiti to convert not the pagans to Christianity but
Protestant Christians to the Roman faith. Aimata now become Pomare IV.,
promptly ordered their arrest and expulsion. The French priests made a
protest to their government and Louis Philippe sent a frigate to
Papeete, the harbor city, with an ultimatum, and the Queen was obliged
to yield. The English consul and the missionaries contested the
occupation of the French, and another frigate was sent to Tahiti. Queen
Pomare now appealed to Queen Victoria and offered to submit to a British
protectorate. She also sent a protest to the government of the United
States, against allowing the French to forcibly occupy Tahiti. But the
English Queen was busy with more important home affairs, and neglected
the appeal from the little island so far away, and the protest to the
United States was apparently ignored. By a lack of appreciation of the
Queen's communication, the United States lost the control of the gem of
all the Pacific isles, and lost also a rare opportunity to aid and
protect a brave people in their struggle for independence. This attitude
of England and the United States left the contest to be settled between
the natives and the French. After a desultory war lasting over four
long, miserable years, with the advantage first on one side and then on
the other, the French government decided to end the matter and sent two
frigates to the island. The government had offered previously to this to
place Pomare permanently on the throne under a French protectorate, but
she would not consent to this, looking constantly for help from the
English who had done so much for her father. So she left Tahiti, the
scene of the contest, and fled to Raiatea to her own family for
protection, while waiting for the help which never came.

Ariitaimai, in her own beautiful home at Papara, pondered over the
wretched state of her beloved country and her heart was sore both for
her idolized friend and poor bleeding Tahiti. Was there no way out of
this Slough of Despond into which the foreigners had plunged her unhappy
country? She knew the temper of the island chiefs and that they had
sworn to die fighting for the independence of their country. She
remembered the fate of Tati, who had been branded a traitor with
Opuhara's last breath because he counseled submission to the English,
and she dared not propose to them any compromising measures. She looked
out despairingly over the trackless sea, and appealingly up at the
towering mountains which had been her companions during prosperity and
adversity, but no answer came to her anxious questionings. Then
suddenly, one day, word was brought to her by an old woman of her clan
that two French frigates had landed in the harbor of Tahiti. She knew
this meant the end, unless Queen Pomare could be persuaded to return to
Tahiti and accept the offer of the French. The old crone who had brought
her the news said to her: "Don't you know that you are the first in the
Island, and that it remains in your hands to save all this and your
land?" Then Ariitaimai hesitated no longer, but hastened to the governor
and told him what she had heard. He replied: "You have heard the truth.
The colonel commanding the troops has heard of so many instances of
insult given to the French that we have decided at last to go out and
finish up the affair." This brusque answer aroused in Ariitaimai all the
stored-up energy of years. She became immediately the diplomatic
representative of her people, and begged the governor to give her a few
days that she might see the chiefs and make at least an effort to avert
the terrible havoc to lives and property which this would cause.
Ariitaimai was well known to the governor, and although evidently amused
that a young woman should take upon herself this difficult task, readily
consented. Like two generals they sat down and talked over all the terms
of the peace; the governor agreeing to restore Pomare to her throne if
she would return immediately, and to leave the chiefs in possession of
their estates and control each of his own chiefery, all to be under the
protection of the French flag. This, he said, they were willing to do,
although the Queen had broken her written agreement with them, and by
deserting her country and throne had absolved them from all obligations
to her. Before the conclusion of the interview Ariitaimai had won the
respect and admiration of the governor, and from that time on they
worked together to bring about a peaceable settlement of the long and
disastrous war. The journey which she was obliged to make in order to
meet the chiefs in council was a long one, and while she was making her
preparations the governor's own aid-de-camp arrived ready to accompany
her, bringing the governor's horses and all necessary passports. She
says in her memoirs: "I knew that my influence with the natives would be
sufficient to save us from any trouble with them." Arrived at last at
the principal native fort where the chiefs were assembled, her first act
showed her the accomplished diplomat. She sent a trusty messenger for
Nuutere, the one whose influence against peace she most feared, and who
with the other chief, Teaatoro, practically controlled the situation.
When he came out to see her she took him by the hand and said: "My
object in coming here is to bring peace, and I have counted on you for
the sake of old friendship to be my speaker in this trying instance."
She quaintly adds: "He was very much perplexed at this," evidently not
understanding why she could not speak for herself as she had often done
before. But to her surprise Ariitaimai found the old chief very much
broken in spirit and quite ready to listen to her arguments for peace,
and she soon had his promise to speak for the acceptance of the
governor's proposition. Human nature is very much the same the world
over, whether encased in a brown skin or white. Nuutere called Teaatoro
to him, and, after a hasty consultation, came over and whispered to
Ariitaimai that Teaatoro would be all right. This practically settled
the matter, but as in all political assemblies the usual formalities
must be gone through with and Nuutere called upon each one of the chiefs
for his opinion. The speakers all teemed with love and admiration for my
heroine and I can not refrain from making some quotations. Nuutere,
after stating the object of the meeting, called upon Teaatoro to make
the first speech. He said: "We are all as one person in this meeting,
and we have suffered together as brothers. We have heard what the object
of this lone woman's visit amongst us is, solely for our good and that
of our children. What can we say to this? We can only return her one
answer, which is to thank her for the trouble and danger she has taken
upon herself, for the peace she has brought, and she must return to the
French commander with this our answer. We have been five months on the
point of starvation. We lost a great many of our men at Tamavao. The
best of our blood was spilled at Mahaena. At Piha-e-atata, our young men
were slain. Our Queen left us in the midst of our troubles without the
least sorrow for us. We have heard no more of the help which was
promised us by Great Britain." Another chief rose and said: "Ariitaimai,
you have flown amongst us, as it were, like the two birds of Ruataa and
Teena. You have brought the cooling medicine of vainu into the hearts of
the chiefs. Our hearts yearn for you and we can not in words thank you;
you have brought us the best of all goods, which is peace. You have done
this when you thought we were in great trouble, and ran the risk of
losing our lives and property. Your people will prove to you in the
future that your visit will always remain in their memory." The old
chief of her own district turned toward Ariitaimai and said only: "As
you are my head, my eyes, my hands and my feet, what more can I say?
What you have decided we accept and will carry out." One dissenting
voice only was heard, a young chief who had but lately come into his
possessions and was anxious to distinguish himself as a warrior. He
called out in a loud voice: "Why have you decided upon this peace so
soon? Tahiti is not broken asunder. We could play with the French until
we could get aid of Great Britain, who has formally promised to help us
through in this war. I think you have all done wrong." But the young man
had his lesson to learn and it was promptly taught him by Ariitaimai's
spokesman. The spirit of young America is not appreciated in Tahiti,
where reverence for age and worship of the ancestors is a vital part of
the native pagan religion. Nuutere turned on the young man and asked:
"Where were you, that consider yourself such a fighting man, in the
fights which have already happened? I have never perceived you ahead of
the others. You do not excel the youngest of our men in all of these
battles. What are you known as in the annals of the country which allows
you to get up and speak when your chiefs have already given the word?"
Ariitaimai set out immediately on her return trip, this time escorted by
ten of the chiefs. Although they made all possible haste the time had
already expired before they reached the governor's headquarters, and
preparations were being made to attack one of the native forts, the
officers having concluded that her errand had been a failure. The
governor, seeing her at a distance, rode out to meet her and helped her
from her horse. He asked her anxiously in Tahitian, "Is it peace?" and
she replied that it was peace and that everything was all right with the
chiefs. He held her hand as he said with great feeling: "The Tahitians
should never forget you; but your work is not finished. You must now go
to Raiatea and bring us back the Queen." So Ariitaimai started on her
second and more difficult errand. At first Queen Pomare refused to
receive her, sending word that she was told that she had gone over to
the French; but later she granted her an interview in which she cried
very much, upbraiding her friend for the stand she had taken, and
accusing her of betraying her interests to the French.

The Queen then sent for the chiefs of her own family with whom she had
taken refuge, and, after a prolonged conference, they advised her not to
return. She said to Ariitaimai: "I trust to the word of Great Britain,
who has promised us to send ships and men to fight our cause and to keep
us an independent state, and I will not return and be under the French."
So after repeated pleading poor Ariitaimai was obliged to return to the
governor with Pomare's answer. He was much disappointed but said as the
chiefs of Tahiti had agreed to peace and as he had nothing to do with
the chiefs of Raiatea they must decide on another monarch, and offered
to make Ariitaimai queen of Tahiti in Pomare's place. But this the
faithful friend would not listen to, and begged the governor to allow
her again to see Pomare, as she believed that when she had had time to
think the matter over she would change her mind. To this the governor
very reluctantly consented, as he was entirely out of patience with
Pomare, and would much have preferred to make Ariitaimai queen, which
could have been done with great propriety, as she was at that time the
head chiefess of the island. After a stormy trip she arrived again at
Raiatea and this time was fortunate enough to find her friend Aimata
alone, the chiefs having gone to an assembly to consult over the affairs
of their own island. This time our faithful ambassadress did not hasten
her visit. She renewed and strengthened the ties of friendship which had
bound them together since their early girlhood, and she records in her
memoirs that they had a beautiful visit together before any mention was
made of the real object of her coming. The charming way in which she
speaks in her memoirs of Pomare's flight shows the tenderness of her
affection for her friend. She says, calling her by her girlhood name:
"The unfortunate Aimata had troubles of every sort, domestic, political,
private and public, until at last the missionaries English and French,
fought so violently for control of her and the island that she was
fairly driven away." With all her acuteness and learning in other
matters, she seems to have had no realization of the true character of
the woman she so beautifully idealized. She still saw in the Queen the
qualities she loved in the young girl, and her affection blinded her to
the defects in her friend's character which entirely unfitted her for
the position she occupied. Events do not move as rapidly in Tahiti as in
America, and our young diplomat, having the governor's promise to await
her return, took her own time. She remained with the Queen two months
and had the satisfaction of returning home with her promise to sail for
Tahiti as soon as her favorite schooner Ana could be made ready. But,
before sailing, another idea took possession of the unreasonable woman
and she sent word to the Tahitian chiefs that as the English had brought
her to Raiatea she would return only in an English ship, and demanded
that one be sent to fetch her.

This unexpected and preposterous demand plunged poor Ariitaimai into the
deepest grief. For the first time a note of complaint of her friend
appears in her memoirs. The French governor laughed at the demands of
Pomare and again offered the throne to Ariitaimai, and argued long to
prove to her that it was her duty to accept it. Where in history is the
woman who would not now have felt that she had exhausted all the demands
of friendship, who would not by this time have been tempted by the
dazzling prospect of a throne, upheld by a powerful governor who had
become her devoted friend and admirer, to be surrounded by chiefs who
had already accepted her leadership, and who, for years, had held her
position among them as chief ess as a sacred trust? But no ambitious
dreams disturbed the clear judgment of this simple-minded woman. She had
set herself a task and her only ambition was to accomplish it. Not for
one moment did the loyal woman waver in her devotion to her friend. She
refused absolutely to entertain a thought of the queenship, and retired
to her country home almost in despair. She says very simply in her
memoirs: "We then remained at home in great trouble and did not know
what was to be done next. The governor on several occasions offered to
make me the sovereign of the island in place of Pomare, which, however,
I could not entertain." It is in this simple and childlike manner she
describes all the events in this perplexing situation. Not by one word
does she anywhere intimate that she is doing anything extraordinary or
praiseworthy or more than her simple duty.

She was not allowed to remain long inactive. Word came to her that the
governor and chiefs were getting very restless and impatient at the
unsettled state of the island politics and had decided not to negotiate
further with the Pomares; and, moreover, that a document to this effect
had been already drawn up and practically agreed upon. This roused her
again to see the governor; and this time Fate put a powerful weapon in
her hands. Just as she was leaving her home an old native preacher came
along and secretly gave her a letter from her beloved Aimata. She wrote
that she was sorry that she had not come back when she promised, that
she was much distressed at the news from Tahiti, that she was an unhappy
woman and, if not too late, she would surely come back if her faithful
friend would come for her. Happy Ariitaimai fairly flew to the governor.
What after all if it should be too late! She had never gone to the
governor with so much fear and trepidation, and her fears were in no way
lessened by his reception of her request that she be allowed to go once
more to Raiatea and make a last effort to bring back the Queen. This
request for the first time irritated the governor toward her. He said:
"Have you not done enough for the Pomares that you should continue to go
down to fetch them?" and he showed her the document which she had heard
of but which was much worse than she supposed, as it proposed to break
up the act of protectorate that had been already made and distinctly
stated that as Ariitalmai had refused to be made queen he would make the
island a French colony at once. But with that precious letter in her
bosom she would not be thwarted in her purpose, and did not leave the
governor until she had received his very grudging permission to see
Pomare and, if she consented to return, to take her to Moorea and let
him know. With this she was obliged to be contented. More she could not
accomplish without divulging the secret of her letter, and this, she
argued, would be disloyal to her friend; for was it not a secret letter
sent to her at great risk? No, she would accomplish her purpose without
humiliating her Queen. Pomare should return at the request of the
governor without losing aught of her queenly dignity.

And now this little drama draws rapidly to a close. Ariitaimai made her
third trip to Raiatea and accompanied Pomare to Moorea, and sent word to
the governor that he would find them there. Obedient to this gently
expressed command of his ambassadress, the governor very courteously
went to Moorea in person to receive the Queen and bring her back to her
home and throne. In the same dispassionate style Ariitaimai tells of the
homeward journey: "As we all went on board a salute was fired. We sailed
around the island, flying the protectorate flag at the fore, to inform
the people of these islands that their Queen had returned. We then
continued our route for Papeete and on arriving there the forts from the
shore saluted the flag." But O! the irony of Fate! As they entered the
harbor what a sight met the eyes of the poor Queen! Both British and
American ships were anchored there, having come at last in answer to her
appeals, but only in time to see her placed on her throne by the grace
of the hated French, But peace had been bought too dearly to be broken
now even by this vacillating queen, and the British and American
officers, seeing the situation, had the good sense to assist in the
general festivities celebrating the long-looked-for peace. The memoirs
conclude with this simple statement: "The Queen remained several hours
on board the steamer as the governor wished the natives to see that the
Queen had really come back. There were soldiers in line on shore to
receive us and we were conducted to the governor's house. The peace of
the island was then decided upon. On arriving at the governor's house we
found all the commanders of the troops and vessels there and before them
I was thanked by Governor Bruat for what I had done for my country."

  When a world of men

  Could not prevail with all their oratory

  Yet hath a woman's kindness overruled.

  SHAKESPEARE.

[1] This chapter is the product of the fertile pen of Dr. Lucy Waite.
Surgeon-in-Chief of the Mary Thompson Hospital, Chicago.