by Nordhoff
Into my new house I moved at once, with Hitihiti, his daughter, her husband, and the people of their household who had accompanied them from Matavai. Early in the morning my party and I set out for Vehiatua's house, carrying with us numerous gifts. These were termed the o—which is to say, with truly extraordinary brevity, "insurance of welcome." When these presents had been formally received, both families joined in a slow and stately parade to my house, while servants in the rear brought the bride's gifts—livestock, cloth, mats, furniture, and other things which would be useful to the new household. A throng of Vehiatua's subjects lined the path, and a band of strolling players caused constant laughter with their antics and songs.
In the house, Hina, who represented the female side of my "family," spread a large new mat, and on it a sheet of new white cloth. Vehiatua was a widower, and his older sister, a thin, white-haired old lady, straight and active as a girl, acted for his clan. Her name was Tetuanui, and she now spread upon Hina's cloth, half overlapping it, a snow-white sheet of her own. This symbolized the union of the two families, and Tehani and I were at once ordered to seat ourselves on the cloth, side by side. To the right and left of us were arrayed a great quantity of gifts—mats, capes, and wreaths of bright featherwork. We were then enjoined to accept these gifts in formal phrases, and when we had done so Hina and Tetuanui called for their paoniho . Every Indian woman was provided with one of these barbarous little implements—a short stick of polished wood, set with a shark's tooth keen as any razor. They were used to gash the head, causing the blood to flow down copiously over the face, on occasions of mourning and of rejoicing. While the spectators gazed at them in admiration, the two ladies now did us the honour of cutting their heads till they bled in a manner which made me long to protest. Taomi, the priest, took them by the hands and led them around and around us, so that the blood dripped and mingled on the sheet on which we sat. We were then directed to rise, and the sheet, stained with the mingled blood of the two families, was carefully folded up and preserved.
Vehiatua had dispatched to the mountains, the night before, a brace of his piimato , or climbers of cliffs. The office of these men was hereditary, and every chief kept one or two of them to fetch the skulls of his ancestors when required for some religious ceremony, and to return them afterwards to the secret caves, high up on the cliffs, where they were kept secure from desecration by hostile hands. The piimato carried in each hand a short pointed stick of ironwood, and with the aid of these they climbed up and down vertical walls of rock to which a lizard could scarcely cling. The skulls of Vehiatua's ancestors were to be witnesses of the religious ceremony presently to take place.
When the ceremony of the bride's reception in my house was over, we paraded slowly back to the house of Vehiatua, and went through a precisely similar ceremony there, even to the bloodletting and the folded sheets. This marked my reception into the house of Tehani's family. We next sat down to a feast, the men apart from the women, which lasted till mid-afternoon.
The social part of the marriage was now over; the religious remained. It was performed in Vehiatua's family marae , or temple, on the point not far from his house. Old Taomi, the priest, led the solemn procession. The temple was a walled enclosure, shaded by huge banyan trees and paved with flat stones. Along one side a pyramid thirty yards long and twenty wide rose in four steps to a height of about forty feet, and on top of it I perceived the effigy of a bird, curiously carved in wood. Accompanied by Hitihiti and his daughter, I was led to one corner of the enclosure, while Tehani, with Vehiatua and other relatives, took her place opposite me. The old priest then approached me solemnly and asked:
"You desire to take this woman for your wife; will not your affection for her cool?"
"No," I replied.
Taomi next walked slowly across to where my young bride awaited him, and put the same question to her, and when she answered, "No," he made a sign to the others, who advanced from their respective corners of the marae and unfolded the two sheets of white cloth, on which the blood of the two families was mingled. Other priests now came forward, bearing very reverently the skulls of Vehiatua's ancestors, some of them so old that they seemed ready to crumble at a touch. These silent witnesses to the ceremony were placed carefully in a line on the pavement, so that their sightless eyes might behold the marriage of their remote descendant.
The girl and I were told to seat ourselves on the bloodstained sheets of cloth, hand in hand, while our relatives grouped themselves on either side. The priest then called upon the mighty chiefs and warriors whose skulls stood before us, giving each man his full name and resounding titles, and calling upon him to witness and to bless the union of Tehani with the white man from beyond the sea. When this was done, old Taomi turned to me.
"This woman will soon be your wife," he said seriously. "Remember that she is a woman, and weak. A commoner may strike his wife in anger, but not a chief. Be kind to her, be considerate of her." He paused, gazing down at me, and then addressed Tehani: "This man will soon be your husband. Bridle your tongue in anger; be patient; be thoughtful of his welfare. If he falls ill, care for him; if he is wounded in battle, heal his wounds. Love is the food of marriage; let not yours starve." He paused again and concluded, addressing us both: "E maitai is mai te mea ra e e na reira orua !" This set phrase might be translated: "It will be well, if thus it be with you two!"
The solemnity of old Taomi's words and manner impressed the girl beside me so deeply that her hand trembled in mine, and, turning my head, I saw that there were tears in her eyes. In the dead silence following his words of admonition, the priest began a long prayer to Taaroa, the god of the Vehiatua clan, beseeching him to bless our union and to keep us in bonds of mutual affection. At last he finished, paused, and then called suddenly: "Bring the tapoi! "
A neophyte came running from the rear of the temple, carrying a great sheet of the sacred brown cloth made by men. The priest seized it, spread it wide, and flung it over us, covering Tehani and me completely. Next moment it was flung aside and we were told to rise. The marriage was over, and we were now embraced in the Indian fashion by the members of both clans. Of the days of feasting and merrymaking that followed our wedding there is no need to speak.
CHAPTER XIII.—THE MOON OF PIPIRI
It means little to say that I was happy with Tehani. It may mean more to state that only two women have left their mark on my life—my mother and the Indian girl. Long before the birth of our daughter I had resigned myself to the prospect of a life of tranquil happiness in Tautira; the sense of my immense remoteness from England grew stronger with the passage of time, and the hope that a ship might come faded into the background of my thoughts. Had it not been for my mother, who alone seemed to lend reality to memories of England, I am by no means certain that the arrival of a ship would have been welcome to me. And since I felt assured that neither Bligh nor any of those with him in the launch would ever reach home, I knew that my mother would be in no distress on my account until it became evident that the Bounty was long overdue. Adopting old Hitihiti's tropical philosophy, I put the past and the future out of mind, and for eighteen months—the happiest period of my entire life I enjoyed each day to the full.
With her marriage, Tehani seemed to take on a new dignity and seriousness, though in the privacy of our home she showed at times that she was still the same wild tomboy who had beaten me at swimming in Matavai. I was working on my dictionary every day, and Sir Joseph Banks himself could not have entered into these labours with greater enthusiasm than did my wife. She directed our household with a firmness and skill that surprised me in so young a girl, leaving me free to do my writing and to divert myself with fishing parties, or with hunting wild boars in the hills. But I preferred excursions in which Tehani could accompany me, and missed many a boar hunt in order to take my wife on short voyages in our sailing canoe.
About a month after our marriage, Tehani and I sailed down to Matavai for a visit to my taio . I was eager to see old H
itihiti, as well as Stewart, Morrison, and other friends among the Bounty's people settled there. The distance is about fifty miles, and with the strong trade wind abaft the beam we made the passage in less than five hours, arriving early in the afternoon.
"Your friends are building a ship," Hitihiti informed me as we dined. "Morrison and Millward, the man with him at the house of Poino, are directing the task, and several others are helping. They have laid the keel and made fast the stem and stern. They are working on the point, not far from the sea."
Toward evening we strolled across to the little shipyard—Hina, her father, Tehani, and I. Morrison had chosen a glade about a hundred yards from the beach, an open grassy spot shaded by tall breadfruit trees. A crowd of Indians sat about on the grass, watching the white men at work. Their interest was intense, and in return for the privilege of being spectators they kept the shipbuilders more than supplied with food. The great chief Teina, to whom the land belonged, was there, with his wife Itea. They greeted us affably, and at that moment Morrison glanced up and caught my eye. He laid down his adze, wiped the sweat from his eyes, and took my hand heartily.
"We have heard of your marriage," he said. "Let me wish you happiness."
I made him known to Tehani, and as he pressed her hand young Tom Ellison came up to me. "What do you think of our ship, Mr. Byam?" he asked. "She's only thirty feet long, but Mr. Morrison hopes to sail her to Batavia. We've christened her already: Resolution is to be her name. By God, it takes resolution to build a ship without nails, or proper tools, or sawn-out plank!"
I shook hands with old Coleman, the Bounty's armourer, and with the German cooper, Hillbrandt. Norman and McIntosh, the carpenter's mates, were there, and Dick Skinner, the hairdresser who had been flogged in Adventure Bay. All worked with a will, under Morrison's direction; some impelled by a desire to reach England, others, conscious of their guilt, by the fear that a British ship might take them before their little vessel could set sail.
At sunset the shipwrights laid down their tools, and, leaving Tehani to return to the house with Hina and my taio , I accompanied Morrison to his residence at the foot of One Tree Hill. He and Millward lived with the warrior Poino, their friend, a stone's throw from Stew-art's house.
I found Stewart pottering about his garden in the dusk. He had made Tipau's wild glen a place of ordered beauty, with paths leading this way and that, bordered with flowering shrubs, and shaded rockeries where he had planted many kinds of ferns. He made me welcome, straightening his back and shaking the earth from his hands.
"Byam, you'll stop to sup, of course? And you too, Morrison?"
Ellison passed us at that moment on his way over the hill, for he lived in Pare, a mile to the west. Stewart liked the lad and called out to him: "I say, Tom! Won't you stop the night? It will be like old times."
"With all my heart, Mr. Stewart!" he said, grinning. "I'm half afraid to go home, anyhow."
"What's wrong?" asked Morrison.
"That wench of mine again. Last night she caught me giving her sister a kiss. I swear there was no harm intended, but do you think she would listen to reason? She knocked her sister down with a tapa mallet, and would have done the same for me if I had not run for it."
Stewart laughed. "I've no doubt you deserved it."
Peggy was calling us into the house, and half an hour later we sat down to our evening meal, served by old Tipau's slaves. Stewart's dining room was a large thatched house open to the air, and decorated with hanging baskets of ferns. A man stood at one end, holding aloft a torch which illuminated the place with a flickering glare. Peggy had gone off to sup with her women, and Tipau preferred to eat his meal alone.
"How long will it take you to complete your vessel?" I asked Morrison.
"Six months or more. The work goes slowly with so few tools."
"You hope to reach Batavia in her?"
"Yes. From there we can get passage home on a Dutch ship. Five of us are to make the attempt—Norman, McIntosh, Muspratt, Byrne, and I. Stewart and Coleman prefer to wait here for an English ship."
"I feel the same," I remarked. "I am happy in Tautira, and glad of the chance to work on my Indian dictionary."
"As for me," said Stewart, "I find Tahiti a pleasant place enough. And I have no desire to be drowned!"
"Drowned be damned!" exclaimed Morrison impatiently. "Our little schooner will be staunch enough to sail around the world!"
"You haven't told Mr. Byam about us ," put in Ellison. "We are going to start a little kingdom of our own. Desperate characters we are—not one but would swing at the yardarm if taken by a British ship! Mr. Morrison has promised to set us down on some island west of here."
"It is the best thing they can do," said Morrison. "I shall try to find an island where the people are friendly. Tom is coming, as are Millward, Burkitt, Hillbrandt, and Sumner. Churchill intends to stay here, though he's certain to be taken and hanged. Dick Skinner believes it his duty to give himself up and suffer for his crime. As for Thompson, he is more of a beast than a man, and I would not have him on board."
"Where is Burkitt?" I asked.
"He and Muspratt are living in Papara," said Stewart, "with the chief of the Teva clan."
"They offered to join us in the work," Morrison added, "but neither man has any skill."
I was glad to have news of the Bounty's people, most of whom I liked. We talked late into the night, while Tipau's man lit torch after torch from the bundle at his side. The moon was rising when I took leave of my friends and trudged home along the deserted beach.
I had occasion, the next morning, to recall what Morrison had said of Thompson, the most stupid and brutal of the Bounty's crew. He and Churchill had struck up an oddly assorted friendship, and spent most of their time sailing about the island in a small canoe, fitted with a sail of canvas. Thompson disliked the Indians as much as he distrusted them, and on shore was never without a loaded musket in his hand.
Going down to the beach for an early bath in the sea, I found the pair encamped by their canoe, with a sucking pig roasting on the coals near by. "Come—join us at breakfast, Mr. Byam," called Churchill, hospitably.
Thompson looked up, scowling. "Damn you, Churchill," he growled—"Let him find his own grub. We've no more than enough for ourselves."
Churchill flushed. "Hold your tongue, Matt," he exclaimed, "Mr. Byam's my friend! Go and learn manners from the Indians, before I knock them into your head!"
Thompson rose and stalked off to a sandhill, where he seated himself sulkily, his musket between his knees. I had already breakfasted, and as I turned away I saw a dozen men pulling a large sailing canoe up on the beach, and the owner and his wife approaching us. The man carried in his arms a child of three or four years. They stopped by Churchill's canoe to admire its sail of canvas, and turned to wish us good day. The Indian woman leaned over the boom to examine the stitching of the bolt rope, and at that moment I heard Thompson's harsh voice.
"Get out of it!" he ordered abruptly.
The Indians glanced up courteously, not understanding the words, and Thompson shouted again: "Grease off, damn you!" The Indian couple glanced at us in bewilderment, and Churchill was opening his mouth to speak when suddenly, without further warning, the seaman leveled his musket and fired. The ball passed through the child and through the father's chest; both fell dying on the beach, staining the sand with their blood. The woman shrieked and people began to run toward us from the house.
Churchill sprang to his feet and bounded to where Thompson sat, with the smoking musket in his hand. One blow of his fist stretched the murderer on the sand; he snatched up the musket, seized Thompson's limp body under the arms, and ran, dragging him, to where the canoe lay in the wash of the sea. Setting the musket carefully against a thwart, he tossed his companion into the bilges as if he had been a dead pig, then sprang into the canoe, pushing off as he did so. Next moment he had sail on her; the little vessel was making off swiftly to the west before the gathering crowd underst
ood what had occurred.
I rushed to the dying father and his small daughter, but perceived at once that there was nothing to be done for them. Within five minutes both expired. The moment it was ascertained that they were dead the frantic mother seized her paoniho and gashed her head in a shocking manner, while blood covered her face and shoulders. The crew of her vessel armed themselves with large stones and were beginning to gather about me threateningly when Hitihiti appeared. He grasped the situation, and the sullen murmur of the people died away as he held up an arm for silence.
"This man is my taio ," he said; "he is as innocent as yourselves! Why do you stand there chattering like women? You have weapons! Launch your canoe! I know the man who killed your master; he is an evil-smelling dog, and not one of the Englishmen will lift a hand to protect him!"
They set off at once in pursuit, but, as I learned afterwards, they were unable to come up with the fugitives. The dead were buried the same night, and Hina and Tehani did their best to comfort the poor woman, whose home was on the neighbouring island of Eimeo. The sequel to this tragedy came a fortnight later, when Tehani and I returned to our home.
Fearing to land on the west side of Tahiti, and wishing to put the greatest possible distance between themselves and Matavai, Churchill had steered his canoe through the dangerous reefs at the south end of Taiarapu and sailed on to Tautira, where Vehiatua, supposing him to be one of my friends, had welcomed him. But Thompson's reputation had preceded him, and he found himself shunned and abhorred by all. Churchill was by this time heartily sick of his companion and desired nothing better than to be rid of him. He told me as much when he came to my house on the evening of our arrival, musket in hand.
"I've half a mind to shoot the fellow!" he remarked. "Hanging's too good for him! But damn me if I can shoot a man in cold blood! I was a fool not to leave him to be dealt with by the Indians in Matavai!"
