by Nordhoff
As I drifted downstream I perceived suddenly, seated among the buttressed roots of an old tree, a young girl lovely as a water-sprite. I must have made some slight splashing sound, for she turned her head with a little start and gazed full into my eyes. I recognized her at once—she was Tehani, whom I had seen in Tetiaroa long before. She gave no sign of shyness or embarrassment, for a girl of her position had in those days nothing to fear by day or by night, alone or in company. A rude word to her would have been the cause of instant death to the offender; an act of violence to her person might easily have brought on a devastating war. This sense of security imparted to the girls of Tehani's class an innocent assurance of manner which was by no means the least of their charms.
"May you live!" I said, Indian-fashion, rounding-to against the current.
"And you!" replied Tehani, with a smile. "I know who you are! You are Byam, the taio of Hitihiti!"
"True," said I, eager to prolong the conversation. "Shall I tell you who you are? You are Tehani, Poino's relative! I saw you in Tetiaroa, when you danced there."
She laughed aloud at this. "Ah, you saw me? Did I dance well?"
"So beautifully that I have never forgotten that night!"
"Arero mona !" she exclaimed mockingly, for the Indians call a flatterer "sweet tongue."
"So beautifully," I went on as if I had not heard, "that I said to Hitihiti: 'Who is yonder girl, lovelier than any girl in Tahiti, who might be the young goddess of the dance herself?"
"Arero mona !" she mocked again, but I could see the blush mantling her smooth cheeks. She had just come out of the river and her brown hair lay in damp ringlets on her shoulders. "Come—let us see which can swim further under water, you or I!" Tehani slipped into the stream, and dived so smoothly that she scarcely rippled the still water. Clinging to the great root which had been her seat, I watched for what seemed an interminable time. The river turned in a bend about fifty yards below me, and at last, from out of sight beyond the bend, I heard Tehani's voice. "Come," she called gaily. "It is your turn to try!"
I dove at the words and began to swim downstream, about a fathom deep. The water was clear as air and I could see the shoals of small bright fish scatter before me and seek refuge among the shadowy boulders below. On and on I went, determined that no girl should excel me in the water, an element I have always loved. Aided by the current, my progress was swift, and finally, when my lungs would endure no more and I felt satisfied that I had won, I came to the surface with a gasp. A chuckle musical as the murmur of the stream greeted me, and shaking the water from my eyes I saw the girl seated on a long root, flush with the water, a full ten yards beyond.
"You came up there?" I asked in some chagrin.
"I have not cheated."
"Let us rest for a little while, and then I shall try again."
Tehani patted the root beside her. "Come and rest here," she said.
I pulled myself up beside her, shaking the wet hair back from my eyes. Moved by common impulse, our two heads turned, and Tehani's clear brown eyes smiled into mine. She turned away suddenly and all at once I felt my heart beating fast. Her hand was close to mine on the rough gnarled root; I took it gently, and since it was not withdrawn I locked my fingers in hers. She bent her head to gaze into the clear water and for a long time neither of us spoke.
I gazed, not at the water, but at the beautiful girl at my side. She wore only a light kilt of white cloth, and her bare shoulder and arm, turned to me, were smooth as satin and of the most exquisite proportions. Her feet and hands, small and delicately made, might have been envied by a princess, and Phidias himself could have produced in cold marble nothing one half so lovely as her young breasts, bared in all innocence. In her face I saw sweetness and strength.
"Tehani!" I said, and took her hand in both of mine.
She made no answer, but raised her head slowly and turned to me. Then all at once, and without a word between us, she was in my arms. The faint perfume of her hair intoxicated me, and for a time the beating of my heart made speech impossible. It was the girl who spoke first.
"Byam," she asked, stroking my wet hair caressingly, "have you no wife?"
"No," I replied.
"I have no husband," said the girl.
At that moment I heard a woman's voice calling from downstream: "Tehani! Tehani O!" The girl hailed back, bidding the caller to wait, and turned to me.
"It is only my servant who came ashore with me. I bade her wait at the mouth of the stream while I bathed."
"You came from Tetiaroa?" I asked, with her head on my shoulder and my arm about her waist.
"No, I have been to Raiatea with my uncle. We have been two days and two nights at sea."
"Who is your uncle?"
The girl turned to me in real astonishment. "You do not know?" she said incredulously.
"No."
"Yet you speak our tongue like one of us! Strange men, you English—I have never talked with one of you before. My uncle is Vehiatua, of course, high chief of Taiarapu."
"I have often heard of him."
"Are you a chief in your own land?"
"A very small one, perhaps."
"I knew it! Knew it the moment I laid eyes on you! Hitihiti would not take as his taio a common man."
Again we fell silent, both conscious that our words reflected only the surface of our minds. "Tehani!" I said.
"Yes."
She raised her head and I kissed her in the English fashion, full on the lips. We walked back to the cove hand in hand, while the servant followed us, her eyes round with wonder.
Vehiatua had come ashore and was at breakfast when we came to the cove. He was a nobly proportioned old man, with thick gray hair and a manner of cheerful, good-natured dignity. His retainers were grouped about him as he ate, serving him with breadfruit, grilled fish fresh from the coals, and bananas from a great bunch they had brought ashore. The old chief's tattooing, which covered every portion of his body save his face, was the most beautiful and intricate I have ever seen. I was glad that I wore only my kilt, for it is discourteous to approach the great Indian chiefs with covered shoulders. Vehiatua gave no sign of surprise at sight of me.
"Eh, Tehani," he called out affectionately to his niece. "Your breakfast is ready for you on board. And who is the young man with you?"
"The taio of Hitihiti—Byam is his name."
"I have heard of him." And then, turning to me courteously, Vehiatua asked me to join him at his meal. I sat down beside him, nothing loth, and answered this questions regarding Hitihiti and the Bounty , of which he had heard much. He expressed surprise at my knowledge of the Indian tongue, and I told him of my mission and how my taio had aided me.
"And now you and the others are settling on Tahiti to remain among us?" Vehiatua asked.
"For a long time, at any rate," I replied. "It is possible that when the next British ship arrives, in two years or three, King George may send word that one or all of us must go home."
"Aye," said the old aristocrat, "one must obey one's king!"
Presently Tehani came ashore, her breakfast over and her toilet made, very different from the young tomboy who had beaten me at diving so short a time before. Her beautiful hair, dried in the sun, combed out and perfumed, was dressed in the Grecian fashion, low on the nape of her neck. Her mantle of snow-white cloth was draped in classic folds, and she walked ahead of her little band of women with an air of dignity few English girls of sixteen could have assumed. The chief gave me a nod and rose to his feet.
"Let us go to the house of my kinsman," he said.
A stout muscular fellow crouched before Vehiatua, hands braced on his knees. The chief vaulted to his shoulders with the ease of long practice, and the human horse stood upright with a grunt. Vehiatua, Teina, and two or three other great chiefs of those days were never permitted to walk, for the touch of their feet rendered a commoner's land theirs. Wherever they went, save in their own domains, they were borne on the backs of men trained to
the task.
With Tehani at my side, I followed her uncle down the beach, walking on the hard moist sand at the water's edge. As we passed the encampment of fishermen they hastened to throw off the mantles from their shoulders and seat themselves on the sand. To remain standing while a high chief passed would have been the greatest of insults.
"Maeva te arii !" was their greeting. (Hail to the chief!)
"May you live," said Vehiatua affably; "and may your fishing prosper!"
Old Hitihiti met us before his door, throwing off his mantle and stepping forward with bare shoulders to greet his friend. A meal was being prepared, and though our visitor had just eaten a prodigious quantity of food, he expressed his willingness to share in a second breakfast. Tehani and Hina knew each other well and seemed to have much to talk over. From the glances Hina cast at me from time to time, I suspected that Tehani was telling her of our meeting in the stream.
Toward noon, when the others had sought out shady places in which to spread their mats for a nap, I found my taio awake. He was alone, under his favourite hibiscus tree close to the beach, and I told him of my meeting with the girl, and that I loved her too dearly for my peace of mind.
"Why not marry her, if she is willing?" asked Hitihiti, when I had done.
"I think she might be willing, but what would her parents say?"
"She has none; both are dead."
"Vehiatua then."
"He likes you."
"Very well. But suppose we were married, and an English ship came with orders that I must go home."
My taio shrugged his great shoulders in despair. "You English are all alike," he said impatiently; "you make yourselves miserable by thinking of what may never happen! Is not to-day enough, that you must think of to-morrow and the day after that? The thought of an English ship makes you hesitate to marry the girl you fancy! And ten years, or twenty, might pass before another ship arrives! Enough of such talk! Yesterday is gone; you have to-day; to-morrow may never come!"
I could not help smiling at my old friend's philosophic outburst, not without its grain of sound common sense—called "common" because it is so rare. Worry over the future is without doubt the white man's greatest strength and greatest weakness in his quest of happiness—the only conceivable object in life. To the people of Tahiti, worry over the future was unknown; their language indeed contained no word with which to express such an idea.
No doubt Hitihiti was right, I reflected; since I was destined to live a long time among the Indians, I was justified in adopting their point of view. "You are my taio ," I said. "Will you intercede for me with Vehiatua? Tell him that I love his niece dearly, and desire to marry her?"
The old chief clapped me on the back. "With all my heart!" he exclaimed. "You have been too long without a wife! Now let me sleep."
Tehani was awake before the others had finished their siesta, and I found her strolling on the beach. We were alone, and she came to me swiftly. "Sweetheart," I said, "I have spoken to my taio , and he has promised to ask Vehiatua for your hand. I have not done wrong?"
"I spoke to my uncle before he lay down to sleep," Tehani replied, smiling. "I told him I wanted you for my husband and must have you. He asked if you were willing, and I said that I must have you, willing or not! 'Do you want me to make war on Hitihiti and kidnap his friend?' he asked. 'Yes,' said I, 'if it comes to that!' He looked at me affectionately and then said: 'Have I ever denied you anything, my little pigeon, since your mother died? This Byam of yours is English, but he is a man nevertheless, and no man could resist you!' Tell me, do you think that is true?"
"I am sure of it!" I answered, pressing her hand.
When we returned to the house the sun was low, and the two chiefs, who had dismissed their followers, were conversing earnestly. "Here they are!" said Vehiatua, as we came in hand in hand.
"And well content with one another," remarked my taio smilingly.
"Vehiatua gives his consent to the marriage," he went on to me. "But he makes one condition—you are to spend most of your time in Tautira. He cannot bear to be separated from his niece. You will sympathize with him, Byam, and I too can understand. But you must come often to visit old Hitihiti, you two!"
"You are to be married at once, Tehani says, and in my house," said the chief of Taiarapu. "You can sail with me to-morrow, and Hitihiti and Hina will follow in their single canoe. They will represent your family at the temple. You two may consider yourselves betrothed."
I rose at these words and went into the house to open my box. When I returned, I carried the bracelet and the necklace purchased in London so long before. I showed them first to Vehiatua, who turned them admiringly in his hands.
"My gift to Tehani," I explained. "With your permission."
"She should be happy, for no girl in these islands possesses such things. I have seen gold, and know that it is very precious and does not rust like iron. A royal gift, Byam! What may we give you in return?"
"This!" I said, clasping the necklace about Tehani's neck, and taking her by the shoulders as if I would carry her off.
Vehiatua chuckled approvingly. "Well answered!" he said. "A royal gift in truth. For three and seventy generations she can count her ancestors back to the gods! Look at her! Where in all these islands will you find her like?"
Early the next morning, Vehiatua's men carried my belongings to the cove, and presently we went on board and the paddlers drove the vessel out through the passage, in the morning calm. She was the finest of all the Indian ships I had seen—her twin hulls each well over a hundred feet long, and twelve feet deep in the holds. Her two masts, well stayed and fitted with ratlines up which the sailors could run, spread huge sails of matting, edged with light frames of wood. On the platform between the two hulls was the small house in which the chief and his women slept, and it was here, sheltered from the rays of the sun, that I was invited to recline during our forty-mile voyage.
We paddled westward, skirting the long reefs of Pare, till the wind made up, and then, spreading our sails, we raced down the channel between Tahiti and Eimeo, with a fresh breeze at north-northeast. Toward noon, when we were off the point of Maraa, the wind died away and presently made up strong from the southeast, so that we were obliged to make a long board out to sea. I perceived at this time that the large Indian canoes, like Vehiatua's, could outpoint and outfoot any European vessel of their day. With the wind abeam they would have left our best frigates hull-down in no time, and, close-hauled, they would lay incredibly close to the wind.
The sea was rough off shore, and nearly all of the women on board were sick, but I was delighted to observe that Tehani was as good a sailor as I. She was tapatai , as the Indians said—fearless of wind and sea. As we approached the southern coast of Tahiti Nui, she pointed out to me the principal landmarks on shore, and on Taiarapu, beyond the low isthmus toward which we were steering. The southeast wind fell away an hour before sunset, as we were entering a wide passage through the reefs. The sails were furled and, with a score of paddlers on each side, we rowed into a magnificent landlocked bay, where the fleets of all the nations of Europe might have cast anchor, secure from any storm. This bay is on the south side of the Isthmus of Taravao, and is one of the finest and most beautiful harbours in the world.
The isthmus was uninhabited and overgrown with jungle, for the Indians believed it to be the haunt of evil spirits and unfit to be inhabited by men. We slept on board Vehiatua's vessel that night, and next morning—since the passage around the southeast extremity of Taiarapu was judged dangerous, owing to the violent currents and sunken reefs extending far out to sea—our vessel was dragged on rollers across the isthmus, a distance of about a mile and a half, by a great company of people from the near-by district of Vairao, summoned for the purpose. The principal chiefs and landowners of Tahiti, on their voyages around the island, always have their canoes dragged across this low land, and in the course of centuries a deep smooth path has been worn in the soil. The Vairao people performed
their task with remarkable order and cheerfulness, and in less than three hours' time our vessel was launched on the north side. At Pueu we entered a passage through the reef and traveled the rest of the distance in the smooth sheltered water close along shore. It was mid-afternoon when we reached Tautira, where Vehiatua resided most of the time.
The chief was received ceremoniously by the members of his household, by the priest of the temple, who offered up a long prayer of thanks that Vehiatua had been preserved from the dangers of the sea, and by a vast throng of his subjects, to whom his justice and good nature had endeared him.
A meal had been prepared, for news of our coming had preceded us, and when Vehiatua, Taomi, the old priest, Tuahu, Tehani's elder brother, and I sat down to eat on the great semicircular verandah of the house, I caught my breath at the magnificence of the prospect. The house, shaded by old breadfruit trees, stood on high land, close to the deep clear river of Vaitepiha. To the east, the blue plain of the Pacific stretched away to the horizon; to the north and west, across ten miles of calm sea, Tahiti Nui swept up in all its grandeur to the central peaks; and to the west I gazed into the heart of the great valley of Vaitepiha, where cascades hung from cliffs smothered in vegetation of the richest green, and ridges like knife-blades ran up to peaks like turrets and spires. No man in the world, perhaps, save Vehiatua, possessed a house commanding such a view.
Hitihiti and his daughter arrived next day, and the ceremonies of my marriage with Tehani began on the day following. Vehiatua's first act was to present me with a fine new house, on the beach, about a cable's length distant from his own. It had been built for the under chief of the district, a famous warrior. This good-natured personage moved out cheerfully when informed that Vehiatua desired the house for his son-in-law—for so he was kind enough to consider me.
