Part 12

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.