Omoo: Adventures in the South Seas

by Herman Melville

  CHAPTER LI.

  WILSON GIVES US THE CUT--DEPARTURE FOR IMEEO

  ABOUT three weeks after the Julia's sailing, our conditions began tobe a little precarious. We were without any regular supply of food;the arrival of ships was growing less frequent; and, what was worseyet, all the natives but good old Captain Bob began to tire of us.Nor was this to be wondered at; we were obliged to live upon theirbenevolence, when they had little enough for themselves. Besides, wewere sometimes driven to acts of marauding; such as kidnapping pigs,and cooking them in the groves; at which their proprietors were by nomeans pleased.

  In this state of affairs, we determined to march off to the consul ina body; and, as he had brought us to these straits, demand anadequate maintenance.

  On the point of starting, Captain Bob's men raised the most outrageouscries, and tried to prevent us. Though hitherto we had strolled aboutwherever we pleased, this grand conjunction of our whole force, uponone particular expedition, seemed to alarm them. But we assured themthat we were not going to assault the village; and so, after a gooddeal of gibberish, they permitted us to leave.

  We went straight to the Pritchard residence, where the consul dwelt.This house--to which I have before referred--is quite commodious. Ithas a wide verandah, glazed windows, and other appurtenances of acivilized mansion. Upon the lawn in front are palm-trees standingerect here and there, like sentinels. The Consular Office, a smallbuilding by itself, is inclosed by the same picket which fences in thelawn.

  We found the office closed; but, in the verandah of thedwelling-house, was a lady performing a tonsorial operation on thehead of a prim-looking, elderly European, in a low, whitecravat;--the most domestic little scene I had witnessed since leavinghome. Bent upon an interview with Wilson, the sailors now deputed thedoctor to step forward as a polite inquirer after his health.

  The pair stared very hard as he advanced; but no ways disconcerted, hesaluted them gravely, and inquired for the consul.

  Upon being informed that he had gone down to the beach, we proceededin that direction; and soon met a native, who told us that, apprisedof our vicinity, Wilson was keeping out of the way. We resolved tomeet him; and passing through the village, he suddenly came walkingtoward us; having apparently made up his mind that any attempt toelude us would be useless.

  "What do you want of me, you rascals?" he cried--a greeting whichprovoked a retort in no measured terms. At this juncture, the nativesbegan to crowd round, and several foreigners strolled along. Caughtin the very act of speaking to such disreputable acquaintances,Wilson now fidgeted, and moved rapidly toward his office; the menfollowing. Turning upon them incensed, he bade them be off--he wouldhave nothing more to say to us; and then, hurriedly addressing CaptainBob in Tahitian, he hastened on, and never stopped till the posternof Pritchard's wicket was closed behind him.

  Our good old keeper was now highly excited, bustling about in his hugepetticoats, and conjuring us to return to the Calabooza. After alittle debate, we acquiesced.

  This interview was decisive. Sensible that none of the charges broughtagainst us would stand, yet unwilling formally to withdraw them, theconsul now wished to get rid of us altogether; but without beingsuspected of encouraging our escape. Thus only could we account forhis conduct.

  Some of the party, however, with a devotion to principle truly heroic,swore they would never leave him, happen what might. For my own part,I began to long for a change; and as there seemed to be no gettingaway in a ship, I resolved to hit upon some other expedient. Butfirst, I cast about for a comrade; and of course the long doctor waschosen. We at once laid our heads together; and for the present,resolved to disclose nothing to the rest.

  A few days previous, I had fallen in with a couple of Yankee lads,twins, who, originally deserting their ship at Tanning's Island (anuninhabited spot, but exceedingly prolific in fruit of all kinds),had, after a long residence there, roved about among the Societygroup. They were last from Imeeo--the island immediatelyadjoining--where they had been in the employ of two foreigners who hadrecently started a plantation there. These persons, they said, hadcharged them to send over from Papeetee, if they could, two white menfor field-labourers.

  Now, all but the prospect of digging and delving suited us exactly;but the opportunity for leaving the island was not to be slighted;and so we held ourselves in readiness to return with the planters;who, in a day or two, were expected to visit Papeetee in their boat.

  At the interview which ensued, we were introduced to them as Peter andPaul; and they agreed to give Peter and Paul fifteen silver dollars amonth, promising something more should we remain with thempermanently. What they wanted was men who would stay. To elude thenatives--many of whom, not exactly understanding our relations withthe consul, might arrest us, were they to see us departing--thecoming midnight was appointed for that purpose.

  When the hour drew nigh, we disclosed our intention to the rest. Someupbraided us for deserting them; others applauded, and said that, onthe first opportunity, they would follow our example. At last, webade them farewell. And there would now be a serene sadness inthinking over the scene--since we never saw them again--had not allbeen dashed by M'Gee's picking the doctor's pocket of a jack-knife, inthe very act of embracing him.

  We stole down to the beach, where, under the shadow of a grove, theboat was waiting. After some delay, we shipped the oars, and pullingoutside of the reef, set the sail; and with a fair wind, glided awayfor Imeeo.

  It was a pleasant trip. The moon was up--the air, warm--the waves,musical--and all above was the tropical night, one purple vault hunground with soft, trembling stars.

  The channel is some five leagues wide. On one hand, you have the threegreat peaks of Tahiti lording it over ranges of mountains andvalleys; and on the other, the equally romantic elevations of Imeeo,high above which a lone peak, called by our companions, "theMarling-pike," shot up its verdant spire.

  The planters were quite sociable. They had been sea-faring men, andthis, of course, was a bond between us. To strengthen it, a flask ofwine was produced, one of several which had been procured in personfrom the French admiral's steward; for whom the planters, when on aformer visit to Papeetee, had done a good turn, by introducing theamorous Frenchman to the ladies ashore. Besides this, they had acalabash filled with wild boar's meat, baked yams, bread-fruit, andTombez potatoes. Pipes and tobacco also were produced; and whileregaling ourselves, plenty of stories were told about theneighbouring islands.

  At last we heard the roar of the Imeeo reef; and gliding through abreak, floated over the expanse within, which was smooth as a younggirl's brow, and beached the boat.

  CHAPTER LII.

  THE VALLEY OF MARTAIR

  WE went up through groves to an open space, where we heard voices, anda light was seen glimmering from out a bamboo dwelling. It was theplanters' retreat; and in their absence, several girls were keepinghouse, assisted by an old native, who, wrapped up in tappa, lay inthe corner, smoking.

  A hasty meal was prepared, and after it we essayed a nap; but, alas! aplague, little anticipated, prevented. Unknown in Tahiti, themosquitoes here fairly eddied round us. But more of them anon.

  We were up betimes, and strolled out to view the country. We were inthe valley of Martair; shut in, on both sides, by lofty hills. Hereand there were steep cliffs, gay with flowering shrubs, or hung withpendulous vines, swinging blossoms in the air. Of considerable widthat the sea, the vale contracts as it runs inland; terminating, at thedistance of several miles, in a range of the most grotesqueelevations, which seem embattled with turrets and towers, grown overwith verdure, and waving with trees. The valley itself is awilderness of woodland; with links of streams flashing through, andnarrow pathways fairly tunnelled through masses of foliage.

  All alone, in this wild place, was the abode of the planters; the onlyone back from the beach--their sole neighbours, the few fishermen andtheir families, dwelling in a small grove of cocoa-nut trees whoseroots were washed by the sea.

  The c
leared tract which they occupied comprised some thirty acres,level as a prairie, part of which was under cultivation; the wholebeing fenced in by a stout palisade of trunks and boughs of treesstaked firmly in the ground. This was necessary as a defence againstthe wild cattle and hogs overrunning the island.

  Thus far, Tombez potatoes were the principal crop raised; a ready salefor them being obtained among the shipping touching at Papeetee.There was a small patch of the taro, or Indian turnip, also; anotherof yams; and in one corner, a thrifty growth of the sugar-cane, justripening.

  On the side of the inclosure next the sea was the house; newly builtof bamboos, in the native style. The furniture consisted of a coupleof sea-chests, an old box, a few cooking utensils, and agriculturaltools; together with three fowling-pieces, hanging from a rafter; andtwo enormous hammocks swinging in opposite corners, and composed ofdried bullocks' hides, stretched out with poles.

  The whole plantation was shut in by a dense forest; and, close by thehouse, a dwarfed "Aoa," or species of banian-tree, had purposely beenleft twisting over the palisade, in the most grotesque manner, andthus made a pleasant shade. The branches of this curious treeafforded low perches, upon which the natives frequently squatted,after the fashion of their race, and smoked and gossiped by the hour.

  We had a good breakfast of fish--speared by the natives, beforesunrise, on the reef--pudding of Indian turnip, fried bananas, androasted bread-fruit.

  During the repast, our new friends were quite sociable andcommunicative. It seems that, like nearly all uneducated foreigners,residing in Polynesia, they had, some time previous, deserted from aship; and, having heard a good deal about the money to be made byraising supplies for whaling-vessels, they determined upon embarkingin the business. Strolling about, with this intention, they, at last,came to Martair; and, thinking the soil would suit, set themselves towork. They began by finding out the owner of the particular spotcoveted, and then making a "tayo" of him.

  He turned out to be Tonoi, the chief of the fishermen: who, one day,when exhilarated with brandy, tore his meagre tappa from his loins,and gave me to know that he was allied by blood with Pomaree herself;and that his mother came from the illustrious race of pontiffs, who,in old times, swayed their bamboo crosier over all the pagans ofImeeo. A regal, and right reverend lineage! But, at the time I speakof, the dusky noble was in decayed circumstances, and, therefore, byno means unwilling to alienate a few useless acres. As an equivalent,he received from the strangers two or three rheumatic old muskets,several red woollen shirts, and a promise to be provided for in hisold age: he was always to find a home with the planters.

  Desirous of living on the cosy footing of a father-in-law, he franklyoffered his two daughters for wives; but as such, they were politelydeclined; the adventurers, though not averse to courting, beingunwilling to entangle themselves in a matrimonial alliance, howeversplendid in point of family.

  Tonoi's men, the fishermen of the grove, were a sad set. Secluded, ina great measure, from the ministrations of the missionaries, theygave themselves up to all manner of lazy wickedness. Strolling amongthe trees of a morning, you came upon them napping on the shady sideof a canoe hauled up among the bushes; lying on a tree smoking; or,more frequently still, gambling with pebbles; though, a littletobacco excepted, what they gambled for at their outlandish games, itwould be hard to tell. Other idle diversions they had also, in whichthey seemed to take great delight. As for fishing, it employed but asmall part of their time. Upon the whole, they were a merry,indigent, godless race.

  Tonoi, the old sinner, leaning against the fallen trunk of a cocoa-nuttree, invariably squandered his mornings at pebbles; a gray-headedrook of a native regularly plucking him of every other stick oftobacco obtained from his friends, the planters. Toward afternoon,he strolled back to their abode; where he tarried till the nextmorning, smoking and snoozing, and, at times, prating about thehapless fortunes of the House of Tonoi. But like any other easy-goingold dotard, he seemed for the most part perfectly content withcheerful board and lodging.

  On the whole, the valley of Martair was the quietest place imaginable.Could the mosquitoes be induced to emigrate, one might spend themonth of August there quite pleasantly. But this was not the casewith the luckless Long Ghost and myself; as will presently be seen.

  CHAPTER LIII.

  FARMING IN POLYNESIA

  THE planters were both whole-souled fellows; but, in other respects,as unlike as possible.

  One was a tall, robust Yankee, hern in the backwoods of Maine, sallow,and with a long face;--the other was a short little Cockney, who hadfirst clapped his eyes on the Monument.

  The voice of Zeke, the Yankee, had a twang like a cracked viol; andShorty (as his comrade called him), clipped the aspirate from everyword beginning with one. The latter, though not the tallest man inthe world, was a good-looking young fellow of twenty-five. His cheekswere dyed with the fine Saxon red, burned deeper from his rovinglife: his blue eye opened well, and a profusion of fair hair curledover a well-shaped head.

  But Zeke was no beauty. A strong, ugly man, he was well adapted formanual labour; and that was all. His eyes were made to see with, andnot for ogling. Compared with the Cockney, he was grave, and rathertaciturn; but there was a deal of good old humour bottled up in him,after all. For the rest, he was frank, good-hearted, shrewd, andresolute; and like Shorty, quite illiterate.

  Though a curious conjunction, the pair got along together famously.But, as no two men were ever united in any enterprise without onegetting the upper hand of the other, so in most matters Zeke had hisown way. Shorty, too, had imbibed from him a spirit of invincibleindustry; and Heaven only knows what ideas of making a fortune ontheir plantation.

  We were much concerned at this; for the prospect of their setting us,in their own persons, an example of downright hard labour, wasanything but agreeable. But it was now too late to repent what we haddone.

  The first day--thank fortune--we did nothing. Having treated us asguests thus far, they no doubt thought it would be wanting indelicacy to set us to work before the compliments of the occasionwere well over. The next morning, however, they both lookedbusiness-like, and we were put to.

  "Wall, b'ys" (boys), said Zeke, knocking the ashes out of his pipe,after breakfast--"we must get at it. Shorty, give Peter there (thedoctor), the big hoe, and Paul the other, and let's be off." Going toa corner, Shorty brought forth three of the implements; anddistributing them impartially, trudged on after his partner, who tookthe lead with something in the shape of an axe.

  For a moment left alone in the house, we looked at each other,quaking. We were each equipped with a great, clumsy piece of a tree,armed at one end with a heavy, flat mass of iron.

  The cutlery part--especially adapted to a primitive soil--was animportation from Sydney; the handles must have been of domesticmanufacture. "Hoes"--so called--we had heard of, and seen; but theywere harmless in comparison with the tools in our hands.

  "What's to be done with them?" inquired I of Peter.

  "Lift them up and down," he replied; "or put them in motion some wayor other. Paul, we are in a scrape--but hark! they are calling;" andshouldering the hoes, off we marched.'

  Our destination was the farther side of the plantation, where theground, cleared in part, had not yet been broken up; but they werenow setting about it. Upon halting, I asked why a plough was notused; some of the young wild steers might be caught and trained fordraught.

  Zeke replied that, for such a purpose, no cattle, to his knowledge,had ever been used in any part of Polynesia. As for the soil ofMartair, so obstructed was it with roots, crossing and recrossingeach other at all points, that no kind of a plough could be used toadvantage. The heavy Sydney hoes were the only thing for such land.

  Our work was now before us; but, previous to commencing operations, Iendeavoured to engage the Yankee in a little further friendly chatconcerning the nature of virgin soils in general, and that of thevalley of Martair in particular. So masterly a stratagem made LongGhos
t brighten up; and he stood by ready to join in. But what ourfriend had to say about agriculture all referred to the particularpart of his plantation upon which we stood; and having communicatedenough on this head to enable us to set to work to the bestadvantage, he fell to, himself; and Shorty, who had been looking on,followed suit.

  The surface, here and there, presented closely amputated branches ofwhat had once been a dense thicket. They seemed purposely leftprojecting, as if to furnish a handle whereby to drag out the rootsbeneath. After loosening the hard soil, by dint of much thumping andpounding, the Yankee jerked one of the roots this way and that,twisting it round and round, and then tugging at it horizontally.

  "Come! lend us a hand!" he cried, at last; and running up, we all fourstrained away in concert. The tough obstacle convulsed the surfacewith throes and spasms; but stuck fast, notwithstanding.

  "Dumn it!" cried Zeke, "we'll have to get a rope; run to the house,Shorty, and fetch one."

  The end of this being attached, we took plenty of room, and strainedaway once more.

  "Give us a song, Shorty," said the doctor; who was rather sociable, ona short acquaintance. Where the work to be accomplished is any waydifficult, this mode of enlivening toil is quite efficacious amongsailors. So willing to make everything as cheerful as possible,Shorty struck up, "Were you ever in Dumbarton?" a marvellouslyinspiring, but somewhat indecorous windlass chorus.