Omoo: Adventures in the South Seas

by Herman Melville

  Doctor Long Ghost was all sympathy. "Bill, my good fellow," said he,tremulously, "let me go and talk to her." But Bill, declining theoffer, would not even inform us where his charmer lived.

  Leaving the disconsolate Willie planing a plank of New Zealand pine(an importation from the Bay of Islands), and thinking the while ofLullee, we went on our way. How his suit prospered in the end wenever learned.

  Going from Po-Po's house toward the anchorage of the harbour of Taloo,you catch no glimpse of the water until, coming out from deep groves,you all at once find yourself upon the beach. A bay, considered bymany voyagers the most beautiful in the South Seas, then lies beforeyou. You stand upon one side of what seems a deep green river,flowing through mountain passes to the sea. Right opposite a majesticpromontory divides the inlet from another, called after itsdiscoverer, Captain Cook. The face of this promontory toward Taloois one verdant wall; and at its base the waters lie still andfathomless. On the left hand, you just catch a peep of the wideningmouth of the bay, the break in the reef by which ships enter, and,beyond, the sea. To the right, the inlet, sweeping boldly round thepromontory, runs far away into the land; where, save in onedirection, the hills close in on every side, knee-deep in verdure andshooting aloft in grotesque peaks. The open space lies at the head ofthe bay; in the distance it extends into a broad hazy plain lying atthe foot of an amphitheatre of hills. Here is the large sugarplantation previously alluded to. Beyond the first range of hills,you descry the sharp pinnacles of the interior; and among these, thesame silent Marling-spike which we so often admired from the otherside of the island.

  All alone in the harbour lay the good ship Leviathan. We jumped intothe canoe, and paddled off to her. Though early in the afternoon,everything was quiet; but upon mounting the side we found four orfive sailors lounging about the forecastle, under an awning. Theygave us no very cordial reception; and though otherwise quite heartyin appearance, seemed to assume a look of ill-humour on purpose tohonour our arrival. There was much eagerness to learn whether wewanted to "ship"; and by the unpleasant accounts they gave of thevessel, they seemed desirous to prevent such a thing if possible.

  We asked where the rest of the ship's company were; a gruff old fellowmade answer, "One boat's crew of 'em is gone to Davy Jones'slocker:--went off after a whale, last cruise, and never come backagin. All the starboard watch ran away last night, and the skipper'sashore kitching 'em."

  "And it's shipping yer after, my jewels, is it?" cried a curly-patedlittle Belfast sailor, coming up to us, "thin arrah! my livelies,jist be after sailing ashore in a jiffy:--the divil of a skipper willcarry yees both to sea, whether or no. Be off wid ye thin, darlints,and steer clear of the likes of this ballyhoo of blazes as long as yelive. They murther us here every day, and starve us into the bargain.Here, Dick, lad, har! the poor divil's canow alongside; and paddleaway wid yees for dear life."

  But we loitered awhile, listening to more inducements to ship; and atlast concluded to stay to supper. My sheath-knife never cut intobetter sea-beef than that which we found lying in the kid in theforecastle. The bread, too, was hard, dry, and brittle as glass; andthere was plenty of both.

  While we were below, the mate of the vessel called out for someone tocome on deck. I liked his voice. Hearing it was as good as a look athis face. It betokened a true sailor, and no taskmaster.

  The appearance of the Leviathan herself was quite pleasing. Like alllarge, comfortable old whalers, she had a sort of motherlylook:--broad in the beam, flush decks, and four chubby boats hangingat the breast. Her sails were furled loosely upon the yards, as ifthey had been worn long, and fitted easy; her shrouds swungnegligently slack; and as for the "running rigging," it never workedhard as it does in some of your "dandy ships," jamming in the sheavesof blocks, like Chinese slippers, too small to be useful: on thecontrary, the ropes ran glibly through, as if they had many a timetravelled the same road, and were used to it.

  When evening came, we dropped into our canoe, and paddled ashore;fully convinced that the good ship never deserved the name which theygave her.

  CHAPTER LXXVII.

  A PARTY OF ROVERS--LITTLE LOO AND THE DOCTOR

  WHILE IN Partoowye, we fell in with a band of six veteran rovers,prowling about the village and harbour, who had just come overlandfrom another part of the island.

  A few weeks previous, they had been paid off, at Papeetee, from awhaling vessel, on board of which they had, six months before,shipped for a single cruise; that is to say, to be discharged at thenext port. Their cruise was a famous one; and each man stepped uponthe beach at Tahiti jingling his dollars in a sock.

  Weary at last of the shore, and having some money left, they clubbed,and purchased a sail-boat; proposing a visit to a certain uninhabitedisland, concerning which they had heard strange and golden stories.Of course, they never could think of going to sea without amedicine-chest filled with flasks of spirits, and a small cask of thesame in the hold in case the chest should give out.

  Away they sailed; hoisted a flag of their own, and gave three timesthree, as they staggered out of the bay of Papeetee with a strongbreeze, and under all the "muslin" they could carry.

  Evening coming on, and feeling in high spirits and no ways disposed tosleep, they concluded to make a night of it; which they did; allhands getting tipsy, and the two masts going over the side aboutmidnight, to the tune of

  "Sailing down, sailing down, On the coast of Barbaree."

  Fortunately, one worthy could stand by holding on to the tiller; andthe rest managed to crawl about, and hack away the lanyards of therigging, so as to break clear from the fallen spars. While thusemployed, two sailors got tranquilly over the side, and went plumb tothe bottom, under the erroneous impression that they were steppingupon an imaginary wharf to get at their work better.

  After this, it blew quite a gale; and the commodore, at the helm,instinctively kept the boat before the wind; and by so doing, ranover for the opposite island of Imeeo. Crossing the channel, byalmost a miracle they went straight through an opening in the reef,and shot upon a ledge of coral, where the waters were tolerablysmooth. Here they lay until morning, when the natives came off tothem in their canoes. By the help of the islanders, the schooner washove over on her beam-ends; when, finding the bottom knocked topieces, the adventurers sold the boat for a trifle to the chief ofthe district, and went ashore, rolling before them their precious caskof spirits. Its contents soon evaporated, and they came to Partoowye.

  The day after encountering these fellows, we were strolling among thegroves in the neighbourhood, when we came across several parties ofnatives armed with clumsy muskets, rusty cutlasses, and outlandishclubs. They were beating the bushes, shouting aloud, and apparentlytrying to scare somebody. They were in pursuit of the strangers, who,having in a single night set at nought all the laws of the place, hadthought best to decamp.

  In the daytime, Po-Po's house was as pleasant a lounge as one couldwish. So, after strolling about, and seeing all there was to be seen,we spent the greater part of our mornings there; breakfasting late,and dining about two hours after noon. Sometimes we lounged on thefloor of ferns, smoking, and telling stories; of which the doctor hadas many as a half-pay captain in the army. Sometimes we chatted, aswell as we could, with the natives; and, one day--joy to us!--Po-Pobrought in three volumes of Smollett's novels, which had been foundin the chest of a sailor, who some time previous had died on theisland.

  Amelia!--Peregrine!--you hero of rogues, Count Fathom!--what a debt dowe owe you!

  I know not whether it was the reading of these romances, or the wantof some sentimental pastime, which led the doctor, about this period,to lay siege to the heart of the little Loo.

  Now, as I have said before, the daughter of Po-Po was most cruellyreserved, and never deigned to notice us. Frequently I addressed herwith a long face and an air of the profoundest and most distantrespect--but in vain; she wouldn't even turn up her pretty olivenose. Ah! it's quite plain, thought I; she knows very well whatgraceless
dogs sailors are, and won't have anything to do with us.

  But thus thought not my comrade. Bent he was upon firing the coldglitter of Loo's passionless eyes.

  He opened the campaign with admirable tact: making cautiousapproaches, and content, for three days, with ogling the nymph forabout five minutes after every meal. On the fourth day, he asked hera question; on the fifth, she dropped a nut of ointment, and hepicked it up and gave it to her; on the sixth, he went over and satdown within three yards of the couch where she lay; and, on thememorable morn of the seventh, he proceeded to open his batteries inform.

  The damsel was reclining on the ferns; one hand supporting her cheek,and the other listlessly turning over the leaves of a Tahitian Bible.The doctor approached.

  Now the chief disadvantage under which he laboured was his almostcomplete ignorance of the love vocabulary of the island. But Frenchcounts, they say, make love delightfully in broken English; and whathindered the doctor from doing the same in dulcet Tahitian. So at ithe went.

  "Ah!" said he, smiling bewitchingly, "oee mickonaree; oee readyBiblee?"

  No answer; not even a look.

  "Ah I matai! very goody ready Biblee mickonaree."

  Loo, without stirring, began reading, in a low tone, to herself.

  "Mickonaree Biblee ready goody maitai," once more observed the doctor,ingeniously transposing his words for the third time.

  But all to no purpose; Loo gave no sign.

  He paused, despairingly; but it would never do to give up; so he threwhimself at full length beside her, and audaciously commenced turningover the leaves.

  Loo gave a start, just one little start, barely perceptible, and then,fumbling something in her hand, lay perfectly motionless; the doctorrather frightened at his own temerity, and knowing not what to donext. At last, he placed one arm cautiously about her waist; almostin the same instant he bounded to his feet, with a cry; the littlewitch had pierced him with a thorn. But there she lay, just asquietly as ever, turning over the leaves, and reading to herself.

  My long friend raised the siege incontinently, and made a disorderlyretreat to the place where I reclined, looking on.

  I am pretty sure that Loo must have related this occurrence to herfather, who came in shortly afterward; for he looked queerly at thedoctor. But he said nothing; and, in ten minutes, was quite asaffable as ever. As for Loo, there was not the slightest change inher; and the doctor, of course, for ever afterwards held his peace.

  CHAPTER LXXVIII.

  MRS. BELL

  ONE DAY, taking a pensive afternoon stroll along one of the manybridle-paths which wind among the shady groves in the neighbourhoodof Taloo, I was startled by a sunny apparition. It was that of abeautiful young Englishwoman, charmingly dressed, and mounted upon aspirited little white pony. Switching a green branch, she camecantering toward me.

  I looked round to see whether I could possibly be in Polynesia. Therewere the palm-trees; but how to account for the lady?

  Stepping to one side as the apparition drew near, I made a politeobeisance. It gave me a bold, rosy look; and then, with a gay air,patted its palfrey, crying out, "Fly away, Willie!" and gallopedamong the trees.

  I would have followed; but Willie's heels were making such a patteringamong the dry leaves that pursuit would have been useless.

  So I went straight home to Po-Po's, and related my adventure to thedoctor.

  The next day, our inquiries resulted in finding out that the strangerhad been on the island about two years; that she came from Sydney;and was the wife of Mr. Bell (happy dog!), the proprietor of thesugar plantation to which I have previously referred.

  To the sugar plantation we went, the same day.

  The country round about was very beautiful: a level basin of verdure,surrounded by sloping hillsides. The sugar-cane--of which there wasabout one hundred acres, in various stages of cultivation--lookedthrifty. A considerable tract of land, however, which seemed to havebeen formerly tilled, was now abandoned.

  The place where they extracted the saccharine matter was under animmense shed of bamboos. Here we saw several clumsy pieces ofmachinery for breaking the cane; also great kettles for boiling thesugar. But, at present, nothing was going on. Two or three nativeswere lounging in one of the kettles, smoking; the other was occupiedby three sailors from the Leviathan, playing cards.

  While we were conversing with these worthies, a stranger approached.He was a sun-burnt, romantic-looking European, dressed in a loosesuit of nankeen; his fine throat and chest were exposed, and hesported a Guayaquil hat with a brim like a Chinese umbrella. This wasMr. Bell. He was very civil; showed us the grounds, and, taking usinto a sort of arbour, to our surprise, offered to treat us to somewine. People often do the like; but Mr. Bell did more: he producedthe bottle. It was spicy sherry; and we drank out of the halves offresh citron melons. Delectable goblets!

  The wine was a purchase from, the French in Tahiti.

  Now all this was extremely polite in Mr. Bell; still, we came to seeMrs. Bell. But she proved to be a phantom, indeed; having left thesame morning for Papeetee, on a visit to one of the missionaries'wives there.

  I went home, much chagrined.

  To be frank, my curiosity had been wonderfully piqued concerning thelady. In the first place, she was the most beautiful white woman Iever saw in Polynesia. But this is saying nothing. She had such eyes,such moss-roses in her cheeks, such a divine air in the saddle, that,to my dying day, I shall never forget Mrs. Bell.

  The sugar-planter himself was young, robust, and handsome. So, merrilymay the little Bells increase, and multiply, and make music in theLand of Imeeo.

  CHAPTER LXXIX.

  TALOO CHAPEL--HOLDING COURT IN POLYNESIA

  IN Partoowye is to be seen one of the best-constructed and handsomestchapels in the South Seas. Like the buildings of the palace, itstands upon an artificial pier, presenting a semicircular sweep tothe bay. The chapel is built of hewn blocks of coral; a substancewhich, although extremely friable, is said to harden by exposure tothe atmosphere. To a stranger, these blocks look extremely curious.Their surface is covered with strange fossil-like impressions, theseal of which must have been set before the flood. Very nearly whitewhen hewn from the reefs, the coral darkens with age; so that severalchurches in Polynesia now look almost as sooty and venerable as famedSt. Paul's.

  In shape, the chapel is an octagon, with galleries all round. It willseat, perhaps, four hundred people. Everything within is stained atawny red; and there being but few windows, or rather embrasures, thedusky benches and galleries, and the tall spectre of a pulpit lookanything but cheerful.

  On Sundays we always went to worship here. Going in the family suiteof Po-Po, we, of course, maintained a most decorous exterior; andhence, by all the elderly people of the village, were doubtlessregarded as pattern young men.

  Po-Po's seat was in a snug corner; and it being particularly snug, inthe immediate vicinity of one of the Palm pillars supporting thegallery, I invariably leaned against it: Po-Po and his lady on oneside, the doctor and the dandy on the other, and the children andpoor relations seated behind.

  As for Loo, instead of sitting (as she ought to have done) by her goodfather and mother, she must needs run up into the gallery, and sitwith a parcel of giddy creatures of her own age; who, all through thesermon, did nothing but look down on the congregation; pointing out,and giggling at the queer-looking old ladies in dowdy bonnets andscant tunics. But Loo, herself, was never guilty of theseimproprieties.

  Occasionally during the week they have afternoon service in thechapel, when the natives themselves have something to say; althoughtheir auditors are but few. An introductory prayer being offered bythe missionary, and a hymn sung, communicants rise in their places,and exhort in pure Tahitian, and with wonderful tone and gesture.And among them all, Deacon Po-Po, though he talked most, was the onewhom you would have liked best to hear. Much would I have given tohave understood some of his impassioned bursts; when he tossed hisarms overhead, stamped, sc
owled, and glared, till he looked like thevery Angel of Vengeance.

  "Deluded man!" sighed the doctor, on one of these occasions, "I fearhe takes the fanatical view of the subject." One thing was certain:when Po-Po spoke, all listened; a great deal more than could be saidfor the rest; for under the discipline of two or three I couldmention, some of the audience napped; others fidgeted; a few yawned;and one irritable old gentleman, in a nightcap of cocoa-nut leaves,used to clutch his long staff in a state of excessive nervousness,and stride out of the church, making all the noise he could, toemphasize his disgust.

  Right adjoining the chapel is an immense, rickety building, withwindows and shutters, and a half-decayed board flooring laid upontrunks of palm-trees. They called it a school-house; but as such wenever saw it occupied. It was often used as a court-room, however;and here we attended several trials; among others, that of a decayednaval officer, and a young girl of fourteen; the latter charged withhaving been very naughty on a particular occasion set forth in thepleadings; and the former with having aided and abetted her in hernaughtiness, and with other misdemeanours.

  The foreigner was a tall, military-looking fellow, with a dark cheekand black whiskers. According to his own account, he had lost acolonial armed brig on the coast of New Zealand; and since then, hadbeen leading the life of a man about town among the islands of thePacific.

  The doctor wanted to know why he did not go home and report the lossof his brig; but Captain Crash, as they called him, had someincomprehensible reasons for not doing so, about which he could talkby the hour, and no one be any the wiser. Probably he was a discreetman, and thought it best to waive an interview with the lords of theadmiralty.