41 We levy contributions on the shipping. Scarcely a week went by after the Julia's sailing, when, with the proverbial restlessness of sailors, some of the men began to grow weary of the Calabusa Beretani and resolved to go boldly among the vessels in the bay and offer to ship. The thing was tried, but though strongly recommended by the Commodore of the beachcombers, in the end they were invariably told by the captains to whom they applied that they bore an equivocal character ashore and would not answer. So often were they repulsed that we pretty nearly gave up all thoughts of leaving the island in this way, and growing domestic again settled down quietly at Captain Bob's. It was about this time that the whaling ships, which have their regular seasons for cruising, began to arrive at Papati, and of course their crews frequently visited us. This is customary all over the Pacific. No sailor steps ashore, but he straightway goes to the Calabusa, where he is almost sure to find some poor fellow or other in confinement for desertion or alleged mutiny or something of that sort. Sympathy is proffered and, if need be, tobacco. The latter, however, is most in request, as a solace to the captive it is invaluable. Having fairly carried the day against both consul and captain, we were objects of even more than ordinary interest to these philanthropists, and they always cordially applauded our conduct. Besides, they invariably brought along something in the way of refreshments, occasionally smuggling in a little pisco. Upon one occasion, when there was quite a number present, a calabash was passed round in a pecuniary collection taken up for our benefit. One day a newcomer proposed that two or three of us should pay him a sly nocturnal visit aboard his ship, engaging to send us away well freighted with provisions. This was not a bad idea, nor were we at all backward in acting upon it. Night after night every vessel in the harbor was visited in rotation, the foragers borrowing Captain Bob's canoe for the purpose. As we all took turns at this, two by two, in due course it came to Longhost and myself, for the sailors invariably linked us together. In such an enterprise I somewhat distrusted the doctor, for he was no sailor and very tall, and a canoe is the most ticklish of navigable things. However, it could not be helped, and so we went. But a word about the canoes before we go any further. Among the society islands the art of building them, like all native accomplishments, has greatly deteriorated, and they are now the most inelegant as well as the most insecure of any in the South Seas. In Cook's time, according to his account, there was at Tahiti a royal fleet of seventeen hundred and twenty large war canoes, handsomely carved and otherwise adorned. At present those used were quite small, nothing more than logs hollowed out, sharpened at one end, and then launched into the water. To obviate a certain rolling propensity, the Tahitians, like all Polynesians, attach to them what sailors call an outrigger. It consists of a pole floating alongside, parallel to the canoe, and connected with it by a couple of cross-sticks, a yard or more in length. Thus equipped, the canoe cannot be overturned, unless you overcome the buoyancy of the pole, or lift it entirely out of the water. Now Captain Bob's gig was exceedingly small, so small and of such a grotesque shape, that the sailors christened it to the pill-box, and by this appellation it always went. In fact it was a sort of sulky meant for a solitary paddler, but on an emergency capable of floating two or three. The outrigger was a mere switch, alternately rising in air and then depressed in the water. During the command of the expedition, upon the strength of my being a sailor, I packed the long doctor with a paddle in the bow, and then shoving off, leaped into the stern, thus leaving him to do all the work, and reserving to myself the dignified sinecure of steering. All would have gone well were it not that my paddler made such clumsy work, that the water spattered and showered down upon us without ceasing. Going to ply his tool, however, quite energetically, I thought he would improve after a while, and so let him alone. But by and by, getting wet through with this little storm we were raising, and seeing no signs of its clearing off, I conjured him in Mercy's name to stop short and let me ring myself out. Upon this he suddenly turned round, when the canoe gave a roll, the outrigger flew overhead, and the next moment came wrap on the doctor's skull, and we were both in the water. Fortunately we were just over a ledge of coral, not half a fathom under the surface. Depressing one end of the filled canoe, and letting go of it quickly, it bounced up and discharged great part of its contents, so that we easily bailed out the remainder and again embarked. Last time my comrade coiled himself away in a very small space, and in joining upon him not to draw a single unnecessary breath, I proceeded to urge the canoe along by myself. I was astonished at his desolety, never speaking a word, and stirring neither hand nor foot. But the secret was he was unable to swim, and in case we met with a second mishap, there were no more ledges beneath to stand upon. It was but a shabby way of going out of the world, he exclaimed upon my rallying him, and I'm not going to be guilty of it. At last the ship was at hand, and we approached with much caution, wishing to avoid being hailed by anyone from the quarter-deck. Dropping silently under her boughs, we heard a low whistle, the signal agreed upon, and presently a goodly-sized bag was lowered over to us. We cut the line, and then paddled away as fast as we could, and made the best of our way home. Here we found the rest waiting impatiently. The bag turned out to be well-filled, with sweet potatoes boiled, cubes of salt-beef and pork, and a famous sailor's pudding, what they called duff, made of flour and water, and of about the consistency of an underdone brick. With these delicacies and keen appetites, we went out into the moonlight, and had a nocturnal picnic. Chapter 42 Motu Otu, a Tahitian Casuist The pill-box was sometimes employed for other purposes than that described in the last chapter. We sometimes went a-pleasuring in it. Right in the middle of Papati Harbor is a bright green island, one circular grove of waving palms and scarcely a hundred yards across. It is of coral formation, and all round, for many rods out, the bay is so shallow that you might wade anywhere. Down in these waters, as transparent as air, you see coral plants of every hue and shape imaginable, antlers, tufts of azure, waving reeds like stalks of grain, and pale green buds and mosses. In some places you look through prickly branches down to a snow-white floor of sand, sprouting with flinty bulbs. And crawling among these are strange shapes, some bristling with spikes, others clad in shining coats of mail, and here and there round forms all spangled with eyes. The island is called Motu Otu, and around Motu Otu have I often paddled of a white moonlit night, pausing now and then to admire the marine gardens underneath. In places the private property of the queen, who has a residence there, a melancholy looking range of bamboo houses neglected and falling to decay among the trees. Commanding the harbor as it does, Her Majesty has done all she could to make a fortress of the island. The margin has been raised and leveled, and built up with a low parapet of hewn blocks of coral. In the parapet are ranged at wide intervals a number of rusty old cannon of all fashions and calibers. They are mounted upon lame decrepit-looking carriages, ready to sink under the useless burden of burying them up. Indeed, two or three have given up the ghost altogether, and the pieces they sustained lie half buried among their bleaching bones. Several of the cannon are spiked, probably with a view of making them more formidable, as they certainly must be to anyone undertaking to fire them off. Presented to pommery at various times by captains of British-armed ships, these poor old dogs of war, thus toothless and turned out to die, formerly bade in full pack as the battle hounds of old England. There was something about Motu-Otu that struck my fancy, and I registered a vow to plant my foot upon its soil, notwithstanding an old bear-headed sentry menaced me in the moonlight with an unsightly musket. As my canoe drew scarcely three inches of water, I could paddle close up to the parapet without grounding, but every time I came near the old man ran towards me, pushing his peas forward, but never clapping it to his shoulder. Thinking he only meant to frighten me, I at last dashed the canoe right up to the wall, purposing a leap. It was the rascest act of my life, for never did coconut come nearer getting demolished than mine did then. With the stock of his gun the old water fetched a tremendous blow which I managed to dodge, and then falling back succeeded in paddling out of harm's reach. He must have been dumb, for never a word did he utter, but grinning from ear to ear and with his white cotton robes streaming in the moonlight he looked more like the spook of the island than anything mortal. I tried to effect my object by attacking him in the rear, but he was all front, running about the place as I paddled and presenting his confounded musket wherever I went. At last I was obliged to retreat, and to this day my vow remains unfulfilled. It was a few days after my repulse from before the walls of Motu-Otu that I heard a curious case of casualstry argued between one of the most clever and intelligent natives I ever saw in Tahiti, a man by the name of Arhitu, and our learned Theban of a doctor. It was this, whether it was right and lawful for anyone being a native to keep the European Sabbath in preference to the day set apart as such by the missionaries and so considered by the islanders in general. It must be known that the missionaries of the good ship Duff, whom more than half a century ago established the Tahitian Reckoning, came hither by the way of the Cape of Good Hope, and by thus sailing to the eastward lost one precious day of their lives all round, getting about that much in advance of Greenwich time. For this reason, vessels coming round Cape Horn, as they most all do nowadays, find it Sunday in Tahiti when, according to their own view of the matter, it ought to be Saturday. But as it won't do to alter the log, the sailors keep their Sabbath and the islanders theirs. This confusion perplexes the poor natives mightily, and it is to no purpose that you endeavor to explain so incomprehensible a phenomenon. I once saw a word the old missionary essay to shed some light on the subject, and though I understood but few of the words employed, I could easily get at the meaning of his illustrations. They were something like the following. Here, says he, you see this circle, describing a large one on the ground with a stick. Very good. Now you see this spot here, marking a point in the perimeter. Well, this is Baratani, England, and I'm going to sail around to Tahiti. Here I go, then, following the circle round, and there goes the sun, snatching up another stick and commissioning a bandy leg native to travel round with it in a contrary direction. Now then we are both off and going away from each other, and here you see I have arrived at Tahiti, making a sudden stop, and look now where bandy legs is. But the crowd strenuously maintained that bandy legs ought to be somewhere above them in the atmosphere, for it was a traditionary fact that the people from the duff came ashore when the sun was high overhead, and here the old gentleman, being a very good sort of man doubtless, but no astronomer, was obliged to give up. Arhitu, the casualist alluded to, though a member of the church, and extremely conscientious about what Sabbath he kept, was more liberal in other matters. Knowing that I was something of a mcconnery, in this sense a man able to read and cunning in the use of a pen, he desired the slight favour of my forging for him a set of papers, for which he said he would be much obliged and give me a good dinner of roast pig and Indian turnip in the bargain. Now Arhitu was one of those who bored the shipping for their washing, and the competition being very great, the proudest chiefs not disdaining to solicit custom in person, though the work is done by their dependents, he had decided upon a course suggested by a knowing sailor, a friend of his. He wished to have manufactured a set of certificates, purporting to come from certain man of war and merchant captains known to have visited the island, recommending him as one of the best-getters-up of fine linen in all Polynesia. At this time Arhitu had known me but two hours, and as he made the proposition very coolly I thought it rather presumptuous and told him so. But as it was quite impossible to convey a hint that there was a slight impropriety in the thing, I did not resent the insult but simply declined. CHAPTER 43 One is judged by the company he keeps. Although from its novelty life at Captain Bob's was pleasant enough for the time, there were some few annoyances connected with it, anything but agreeable to a soul of sensibility. Prejudiced against us by the malevolent representations of the consul and others, many worthy foreigners ashore regarded us as a set of lawless vagabonds, though truth to speak better behaved sailors never stepped on the island nor any who gave less trouble to the natives. But for all this, whenever we met a respectfully dressed European, ten to one he shunned us by going over to the other side of the road. This was very unpleasant at least to myself, though surtease it did not prey upon the minds of the others. To give an instance, of a fine evening in Tahiti, but they are all fine evenings there, you may see a bevy of silk bonnets and parasols passing along the broom-road, a band of pale little white urchins, sickly exotics, and often are still sedate elderly gentlemen with canes, at whose appearance the natives here and there slink into their huts. These are the missionaries, their wives and children, taking a family airing. Sometimes by the by they take horse and ride down to point Venus and back, a distance of several miles. At this place is settled the only survivor of the first missionaries that landed, an old white-headed saint-like man by the name of Wilson, the father of our friend the consul. The little parties on foot were frequently encountered, and recalling as they did so many pleasant recollections of home and the ladies, I really longed for a dress-coat and beaver that I might step up and pay my respects. That situated as I was, this was out of the question. On one occasion, however, I received a kind inquisitive glance from a matron in gingham. Sweet lady, I have not forgotten her, her gown was a plaid. But a glance like hers was not always bestowed. One evening, passing the veranda of a missionaries dwelling, the dame, his wife, and a pretty blond young girl with ringlets were sitting there enjoying the sea breeze, then coming in, all cool and refreshing, from the spray of the reef. As I approached, the old lady peered hard at me, and her very cap seemed to convey a prim rebuke. The blue English eyes by her side were also bent on me. But oh heavens, what a glance to receive from such a beautiful creature! As for the mob-cap, not a fig did I care for it, but to be taken for anything but a cavalier by the ring-looded one was absolutely unendurable. I resolved on a courteous salute to show my good breeding, if nothing more, but happening to wear a sort of turban, hereafter to be particularly alluded to, there was no taking it off and putting it on again with anything like dignity. At any rate, then, here goes a bow, but another difficulty presented itself. My loose frock was so voluminous that I doubted whether any spinal curvature would be perceptible. Good evening, ladies, exclaimed I at last, advancing winningly, a delightful air from the sea, ladies. Hysterics and hard-shorn, who would have thought it? The young lady screamed, and the old one came near fainting. As for myself, I retreated in double-quick time, and scarcely drew breath until safely housed in the Calabusa. Chapter 44 Cathedral of Papuar, The Church of the Coconuts On Sundays I always attended the principal native church on the outskirts of the village of Papati, and not far from the Calabusa Baratani. It was esteemed the best specimen of architecture in Tahiti. As late, they have built their places of worship with more reference to durability than formerly. At one time there were no less than thirty-six on the island, mere barns tied together with thongs which went to destruction in a very few years. One built many years ago in this style was a most remarkable structure. It was erected by Pomeri II, who, on this occasion, showed all the zeal of a royal proselyte. The building was over seven hundred feet in length and of a proportionate width. The vast ridge-pole was, at intervals, supported by a row of thirty-six cylindrical trunks of the breadfruit tree, and, all round, the wall-plates rested on shafts of the palm. The roof, steeply inclining to within a man's height of the ground, was thatched with leaves, and the sides of the edifice were open. Thus spacious was the royal mission chapel of Papuar. At its dedication three distinct sermons were, from different pulpits, preached to an immense concourse gathered from all parts of the island. As the chapel was built by the king's command, nearly as great a multitude was employed in its construction as swarmed over the scaffolding of the great temple of the Jews. Much less time, however, was expended, in less than three weeks from planting the first post. The last tear of palmetto leaves drooped from the eaves, and the work was done. Apportioned to the several chiefs and their dependents, the labor, though immense, was greatly facilitated by everyone's bringing his post, or his rafter, or his pole strung with thatching, ready for instant use. The materials, thus prepared, being afterwards secured together by thongs, there was literally neither hammer, nor axe, nor any tool of iron heard in the house while it was building. But the most singular circumstance connected with the South Sea Cathedral remains to be related. As well for the beauty as the advantages of such a site, the islanders loved to dwell near the mountain streams. And so a considerable brook, after descending from the hills and watering the valley, was bridged over in three places, and swept clean through the chapel. Flowing waters, what an accompaniment to the songs of the sanctuary, mingling with them the praises and thanksgivings of the green solitudes inland. But the chapel of the Polynesian Solomon has long since been deserted. Its thousand rafters of Hibiscus have decayed and fallen to the ground, and now the stream murmurs over them in its bed. The present metropolitan church of Tahiti is very unlike the one just described. It is of moderate dimensions boarded over and painted white. It is furnished also with blinds, but no sashes. Indeed, were it not for the rustic thatch, it would remind one of a plain chapel at home. The woodwork was all done by foreign carpenters, of whom there are always several about papity. Within its aspect is unique and cannot fail to interest a stranger. The rafters overhead are bound round with fine matting of variegated dyes, and all along the ridge-pole these strappings hang pendant in alternate bunches of tassels and deep fringes of stained grass. The floor is composed of rude planks. Other aisles run between ranges of native settees, bottomed with crossed braids of the coconut fiber, and furnished with backs. But the pulpit, made of a dark, lustrous wood, and standing at one end, is by far the most striking object. It is preposterously lofty. Indeed, a capital bird's eye view of the congregation ought to be had from its summit. Nor does the church lack a gallery which runs round on three sides and is supported by columns of the coconut tree. Its facings are here and there, dobbed over with a tawdry blue, and in other places, without the slightest regard to uniformity, patches of the same color may be seen. In their ardor to decorate the sanctuary, the converts must have borrowed each a brush full of paint and zealously dobbed away at the first surface that offered. As hinted, the general impression is extremely curious. Little light being admitted, and everything being of a dark color, there is an indefinable Indian aspect of duskiness throughout. A strange woody smell also, more or less invading every considerable edifice in Polynesia, is at once perceptible. It suggests the idea of worm-eaten idols packed away in some old lumber-room at hand. For the most part, the congregation attending this church is composed of the better and wealthier orders, the chiefs and their retainers. In short, the rank and fashion of the island. This class is infinitely superior in personal beauty and general healthfulness to the maranhore or common people, the latter having been more exposed to the worst and most debasing evils of foreign intercourse. In Sundays the former are invariably arrayed in their finery and thus appear to the best advantage, nor are they driven to the chapel as some of their inferiors are to other places of worship. On the contrary, capable of maintaining a handsome exterior and possessing greater intelligence, they go voluntarily. In respect of the woodland colonnade supporting its galleries, I called this chapel the Church of the Coconuts. It was the first place for Christian worship in Polynesia that I had seen, and the impression upon entering during service was all the stronger. Majestic-looking chiefs, whose fathers had hurled the battle-club, and old men who had seen sacrifices smoking upon the altars of Oro, were there. And hark, hanging from the bow of a breadfruit tree without, a bell is being struck with a bar of iron by a native lad. In the same spot the blast of the war-conk had often resounded, but to the proceedings within. The place is well filled, everywhere meet the eye the gay calico draperies worn on great occasions by the higher classes and forming a strange contrast of patterns and colors. In some instances these are so fashioned as to resemble as much as possible European garments. This is an excessively bad taste. Coats and pantaloons, too, are here in their scene, but they look awkwardly enough and take away from the general effect. But it is the array of countenances that most strikes you. Each is suffused with the peculiar animation of the Polynesians when thus collected in large numbers. Every robe is rustling, every limb in motion, and an incessant buzzing going on throughout the assembly. The tumult is so great that the voice of the placid old missionary who now rises is almost inaudible. Some degree of silence is at length obtained through the exertions of half a dozen strapping fellows in white shirts and no pantaloons. Running in among the satis they are at great pains to inculcate the impropriety of making a noise by creating a most unnecessary racket themselves. This part of the service was quite comical. There is a most interesting Sabbath school connected with the church, and the scholars of Ibeitius mischievous set were in one part of the gallery. I was amused by a party in the corner. The teacher sat at one end of the bench with a meek little fellow by his side. When the others were disorderly, this young martyr received a wrap, intended probably as a sample of what the rest might expect if they didn't amend. Standing in the body of the church and leaning against a pillar was an old man, in appearance very different from others of his countrymen. He wore nothing but a coarse scant mantle of faded tappa. And from his staring bewildered manner I set him down as an aged bumpkin from the interior, unaccustomed to the strange sights and sounds of the metropolis. This old worthy was sharply reprimanded for standing up, and thus intercepting the view of those behind. But not comprehending exactly what was said to him, one of the white-livery gentry made no ceremony of grasping him by the shoulders and fairly crushing him down into a seat. During all this the old missionary in the pulpit, as well as his associates beneath, never ventured to interfere, leaving everything to native management. With South Sea islanders assembled in any numbers, there is no other way of getting along. End of chapters 43 and 44, recording by Tricia G. Chapters 45 and 46 of Omu. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Omu, a narrative of adventures in the South Seas, by Herman Malville. Chapter 45 A Missionaries' Sermon with Some Reflections Some degree of order at length restored, the service was continued by singing. The choir was composed of twelve or fifteen ladies of the mission occupying a long bench to the left of the pulpit. Almost the entire congregation joined in. The first air fairly startled me. It was the brave tune of Old Hundred adapted to a Tahitian psalm. After the grace-less scenes I had recently passed through, this circumstance with all its accessories moved me forcibly. Many voices around were of great sweetness and compass. The singers also seemed to enjoy themselves mightily, some of them pausing now and then and looking around as if to realize the scene more fully. In truth they sang right joyously, despite the solemnity of the tune. The Tahitians have much natural talent for singing, and on all occasions are exceedingly fond of it. I have often heard a stave or two of psalmody hummed over by rakish young fellows like a snatch from an opera. With respect to singing, as in most other matters, the Tahitians widely differ from the people of the Sandwich Islands, where the parochial flocks may be said rather to bleat than sing. The psalm concluded a prayer followed. Very considerably the old missionary made it short, for the congregation became fidgety and inattentive as soon as it commenced. A chapter of the Tahitian Bible was now read. A text selected and the sermon began. It was listened to with more attention than I had anticipated. Having been informed from various sources that the discourses of the missionaries, being calculated to engage the attention of their simple auditors, were naturally enough of a rather amusing description to strangers. In short, that they had much to say about steamboats, Lord Mayor's coaches, and the way fires are put out in London, I had taken care to provide myself with a good interpreter in the person of an intelligent Hawaiian sailor whose acquaintance I had made. Now Jack, said I before entering, hear every word and tell me what you can as the missionary goes on. Jack's was not, perhaps, a critical version of the discourse, and at the time I took no notes of what he said. Nevertheless I will hear venture to give what I remember of it, and as far as possible, in Jack's phraseology, so as to lose nothing by a double translation. Good friends, I glad to see you, and I very well like to have some talk with you today. Good friends, very bad times in Tahiti, it make me weak. Pomerie is gone, the island no more yours but the wee-wees, French. Wicked priests here, too, and wicked idols in women's clothes and brass chains. Footnote, meaning the showy image of the Virgin in the little Catholic chapel, and footnote. Good friends, know you speak or look at them, but I know you won't, they belong to a set of robbers, the wicked wee-wees. Soon these bad men be made to go very quick. Baratani ships of thunder come and away they go, but no more about this now, I speak more bye-bye. Good friends, many whale ships here now, and many bad men come in them. No good sailors living, that you know very well. They come here, because so bad they know keep them home.  Where they come from, no good people talk to them, just like dogs. Here they talk to Pomerie, and drink arva with great pou-fi. Footnote, the word arva is here employed, means brandy. Bye-bye was one of the highest chiefs on the island, and a jolly companion, and footnote. Good friends, this very small island, but very wicked and very poor, these two go together. Why Baratani so great? Because that island good island, and send mick-in-ary. Footnote, this word evidently a corruption of missionary, is used under various significations by the natives. Sometimes it is applied to a communicant of the church, and above it has its original meaning, and footnote. To poor Kanaka, footnote, a word generally used by foreigners to designate the natives of Polynesia, and footnote. In Baratani every man rich, plenty things to buy, and plenty things to sell, houses bigger than Pomeries and more grand. Everybody too, right about in coaches, bigger than hers. Footnote, Pomerie some time previous, had received a present of a chariot from Queen Victoria. It was afterwards sent to Oahu, sandwich islands, and there sold to pay her debts, and footnote. And where fine tappa every day, several luxurious appliances of civilization were here enumerated and described.  Mikaneri do great deal for Kanaka, Kanaka do little for Mikaneri. So good friends, weave plenty of coconut baskets, fill them, and bring them to-morrow. Such was the substance of great part of this discourse, and whatever may be thought of it, it was specially adapted to the minds of the islanders, who are susceptible to no impressions except from things palpable or novel and striking. To them a dry sermon would be dry indeed. The Tahitians can hardly ever be said to reflect. They are all impulse, and so instead of expounding dogmas, the missionaries give them the large type, pleasing cuts, and short and easy lessons of the primer. Hence, anything like a permanent religious impression is seldom or never produced. In fact, there is perhaps no race on earth less disposed by nature to the munitions of Christianity than the people of the South Sea. And this assertion is made with full knowledge of what is called the Great Revival at the Sandwich Islands about the year 1836, when several thousands were, in the course of a few weeks, admitted into the bosom of the church. But this result was brought about by no sober moral convictions, as an almost instantaneous relapse into every kind of licentiousness soon afterwards testified. It was the legitimate effect of a morbid feeling engendered by the sense of severe physical wants, praying upon minds excessively prone to superstition, and by fanatical preaching inflamed into the belief that the gods of the missionaries were taking vengeance upon the wickedness of the land. At this period, many of the population were upon the verge of starvation and footnote. It is a noteworthy fact that those very traits in the Tahitians, which induced the London Missionary Society to regard them as the most promising subjects for conversion, and which led, moreover, to the selection of their island as the very first field for missionary labor, eventually proved the most serious obstruction. An air of softness in their manners, great apparent ingenuousness and docility, at first misled. But these were the mere accompaniments of an indolence, bodily and mental, a constitutional voluptuousness, and an aversion to the least restrained, which, however fitted for the luxurious state of nature in the tropics, are the greatest possible hindrances to the strict moralities of Christianity. Added to all this is a quality inherent in Polynesians and more akin to hypocrisy than anything else. It leads them to assume the most passionate interest in matters for which they really feel little or none, whatever, but in which those whose power they dread or whose favor they court, they believe to be at all affected. Thus, in their heathen state, the sandwich islanders actually knocked out their teeth, tore their hair, and mangled their bodies with shells to testify their inconsolable grief at the demise of a high chief or member of the royal family. And yet, Vancouver relates that, on such an occasion, upon which he happened to be present, those apparently the most abandoned to their feelings immediately assumed the utmost light-heartedness on receiving the present of a penny whistle or a Dutch-looking glass. The following is an illustration of the trade alluded to as occasionally manifested among the converted Polynesians. At one of the Society Island's rioter, I believe, the natives, for special reasons, desired to commend themselves particularly to the favor of the missionaries. Accordingly, during divine service, many of them behaved in a manner otherwise unaccountable and precisely similar to their behavior as heathens. They pretended to be wrought up to madness by the preaching which they heard. They rolled their eyes, foamed at the mouth, fell down in fits, and so were carried home. Yet, strange to relate, all this was deemed the evidence of the power of the Most High, and, as such, was heralded abroad. But to return to the Church of the Coconuts, the blessing pronounced the congregation did not say the blessing pronounced the congregation disperse, enlivening the broom-road with their waving mantles. On either hand they disappeared down the shaded pathways which lead off from the main route, conducting to hamlets in the groves or to the little marine villas upon the beach. There is considerable hilarity, and you would suppose them just from an old-fashioned hevar or jolly heathen dance. Those who carry Bibles swing them carelessly from their arms by cords of cinnate. The Sabbath is no ordinary day with the Tahitians. So far as doing any work is concerned, it is scrupulously observed. The canoes are hauled up on the beach, the nuts are spread to dry. Passing by the Hencoop huts on the roadside, you find their occupants idle as usual, but less disposed to gossip. After service, repose broods over the whole island. The valleys reaching inland look stiller than ever. In short, it is Sunday, their taboo day. The very word, formerly expressing the sacredness of their pagan observances, now proclaiming the sanctity of the Christian Sabbath. CHAPTER 46. Something About the Canokippers A worthy young man, formerly a friend of mine, I speak of Kulu with all possible courtesy, since after our intimacy there would be an impropriety in doing otherwise. This worthy youth, having some gentile notions of retirement, dwelt in a maro borough or breadfruit shade, a pretty nook in a wood, midway between the Calabusa Baritani and the Church of the Coconuts. Hence, at the latter place, he was one of the most regular worshipers. Kulu was a blade, standing up in the congregation in all the bravery of a striped calico shirt with the skirts rakeishly adjusted over a pair of white sailor trousers and hair well anointed with coconut oil, he ogled the ladies with an air of supreme satisfaction, nor were his glances unreturned. But such looks as the Tahitian bells casted each other, frequently turning up their noses at the advent of a new cotton mantle recently imported in the chest of some armorous sailor. Upon one occasion, I observed a group of young girls, in tunics, of course, soiled sheeting, disdainfully pointing at a damsel in a flaming red one. "'Boo-ee-too-tie-ow-ree,' they said, with ineffable scorn, it-tie-my-tie.  Now Kulu communed with the church, so did all these censorious young ladies. Yet, after eating breadfruit at the Eucharist, I knew several of them the same night that they would be guilty of some sad dereliction. Puzzled by these things, I resolved to find out, if possible, what ideas, if any, they entertained of religion. But as one's spiritual concerns are rather delicate for a stranger to meddle with, I went to work as adroitly as I could. Far no, an old native who had recently retired from active pursuits, having thrown up the business of being a sort of running footman to the queen, settled down in a snug little retreat, not fifty rods from Captain Bob's. His selecting our vicinity for his residence may have been with some view to the advantages it afforded for introducing his three daughters into polite circles. At any rate, not averse to receiving the attentions of so devoted a gulant as the doctor, the sisters, communicans be it remembered, kindly extended to him free permission to visit them sociably whenever he pleased. We dropped in one evening and found the ladies at home. My long friend engaged his favorites, the two younger girls, at the game of now, for hunting a stone under three piles of tapa. For myself, I lounged on a mat with Idaea, the eldest, dallying with her grass fan and improving my knowledge of Tahitian. The occasion was well adapted to my purpose and I began. Ah, Idaea, McInerie Oe, the same as drawing out, by the by, Miss Idaea, do you belong to the church? Yes, me, McInerie, was the reply, but the assertion was at once qualified by certain reservations, so curious that I cannot forbear their relation.  In the same way and with similar exclamations she touched her eyes and hands. This done, her whole air changed in an instant and she gave me to understand by unmistakable gestures that in certain other respects she was not exactly a McInerie. In short, Idaea was a sad good Christian at the heart, a very heathen in the carnal part. Footnote, pope, epistle to a lady, and footnote. The explanation terminated in the burst of laughter in which all three sisters joined and, for fear of looking silly, the doctor and myself. As soon as good breeding would permit, we took leave. The hypocrisy in matters of religion, so apparent in all Polynesian converts, is most injudiciously nourished in Tahiti by a zealous and, in many cases, a coercive superintendence over their spiritual well-being. But it is only manifested with respect to the common people, their superiors being exempted. On Sunday mornings, when the prospect is rather small for a full house in the minor churches, a parcel of fellows are actually sent out with rattens to the highways and byways as whippers in of the congregation. This is a sober fact. Footnote. With abhorrence and disgust, the custom is alluded to by a late benevolent visitor at the island. See page 763 of The Memoirs of the Life and Gospel Labors of the late Daniel Wheeler. A work hereafter to be more particularly alluded to. And footnote.  On weekdays they are quite as busy as on Sundays to the great terror of the inhabitants, going all over the island and spying out the wickedness thereof. Moreover, they are the collectors of fines, levied generally in grass mats, for obstinate nonattendance upon divine worship, and other offenses amenable to the ecclesiastical judicature of the missionaries. Old Bob called these fellows canna-kippers, a corruption, I fancy, of our word constable. He bore them a bitter grudge, and one day, drying near home, and learning that two of them were just then making a domiciliary visit at his house, he ran behind a bush, and as they came forth, two green breadfruit from a hand unseen took them each between the shoulders. The sailors in the Calabusa were witnesses to this, as well as several natives, who, when the intruders were out of sight, applauded Captain Bob's spirit in no measured terms, the ladies present vehemently joining in. Indeed the canna-kippers have no greater enemies than the latter, and no wonder, the impertinent varlots, popping into their houses at all hours, are forever prying into their pecadillos. Kulu, who at times was patriotic and pensive, and mourned to the evils under which his country was groaning, frequently invade against the statute, which thus authorized an utter stranger to interfere with domestic arrangements. He himself, quite a ladies' man, had often been annoyed thereby. He considered the canna-kippers a bore. Besides their confounded inquisitiveness, they add insult to injury by making a point of dining out every day at some hut within the limits of their jurisdiction. As for the gentlemen of the house, his meek endurance of these things is amazing. But, good easy man, there is nothing for him but to be as hospitable as possible. These gentry are indefatigable, at the dead of night prowling around the houses and in the daytime hunting amorous couples in the groves. Yet in one instance the chase completely baffled them. It was thus. Several weeks previous to our arrival at the island, someone's husband and another person's wife, having taken a mutual fancy for each other, went out for a walk. The alarm was raised and with hue and cry they were pursued. But nothing was seen of them again until the lapse of some ninety days, when we were called out from the Calabusa to behold a great mob enclosing the lovers and escorting them for trial to the village. Their appearance was most singular. The girdle accepted they were quite naked. Their hair was long, burned yellow at the ends and entangled with burrs. And their bodies scratched and scarred in all directions. It seems that acting upon the love in a cottage principal, they had gone right into the interior and throwing up a hut in an uninhabited valley had lived there until in an unlucky stroll they were observed and captured. They were subsequently condemned to make one hundred fathoms of Broom Road, a six-months' work, if not more. Often, when seated in a house conversing quietly with its inmates, I have known them betray the greatest confusion at the sudden announcement of a can of kippers being in sight. To be reported by one of these officials as a too-tie-oury, in general signifying a bad person or disbeliever in Christianity, is as much dreaded as the forefinger of Titus Oates was, leveled at an alleged papest. But the islanders take a sly revenge upon them. Upon entering a dwelling, the can of kippers oftentimes volunteer a pharisaical prayer meeting. Hence they go in secret by the name of Bura Artwas, literally, Pray to Gods. End of chapters 45 and 46, recording by Tricia G. Chapters 47 and 48 of Omu. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Omu, a narrative of adventures in the South Seas, by Herman Melville. Chapter 47. How They Dress in Tahiti Except where the employment of making Tappa is inflicted as a punishment, the echoes of the cloth mallet have long since died away in the listless valleys of Tahiti. Formerly, the girls spent their mornings like ladies at their timbre frames. Now they are lounged away in almost utter indolence. True, most of them make their own garments. But this comprises but a stitch or two, the ladies of the mission by the by, being entitled to the credit of teaching them to sew. The Kaihi Waihini, or Petticoat, is a mere breadth of white cotton or calico, loosely enveloping the person from the waist to the feet. Fastened simply by a single tuck or by twisting the upper corners together, this garment frequently becomes disordered, thus affording an opportunity of being coquettishly adjusted. Over the Kaihi, they wear a sort of gown open in front, very loose, and as negligent as you please. The ladies here never dress for dinner. But what shall be said of those horrid hats? Fancy a bunch of straw plated into the shape of a coal-scuttle and stuck bolt upright on the crown, with a yard or two of red ribbon flying about like kite-strings. Milleners of Paris, what would ye say to them? Though made by the natives, they are said to have been first contrived and recommended by the missionaries' wives. A report which I really trust is nothing but scandal. Curious to relate, these things for the head are esteemed exceedingly becoming. The braiding of the straw is one of the few employments of the higher classes, all of which but minister to the silliest vanity. The young girls, however, wholly eschew the hats, leaving those dowdy old souls their mothers to make frights of themselves. As for the men, those who aspire to European garments seem to have no perception of the relation subsisting between the various parts of a gentleman's costume. To the wearer of a coat, for instance, pantaloons are by no means indispensable, and the bell-crowned hat and a girdle are full dress. The young sailor, for whom Coulou deserted me, presented him with a shaggy old P-jacket, and, with this buttoned up to his chin, under a tropical sun, he promenaded the broom-road quite elated. Dr. Longost, who saw him thus, ran away with the idea that he was under medical treatment at the time, in the act of taking what the quacks call a sweat. A bachelor friend of Captain Bob rejoiced in the possession of a full European suit, in which he often stormed the ladies' hearts. Having a military leaning, he ornamented the coat with a great scarlet patch on the breast, and mounted it also here and there, with several regimental buttons, slyly cut from the uniform of a parcel of drunken marines, sent ashore on a holy day from a man of war. But, in spite of the ornaments, the dress was not exactly the thing. From the tightness of the cloth across the shoulders, his elbows projected from his sides, like an ungainly rider's, and his ponderous legs were jammed so hard into his slim, nether garments that the threads of every seam showed, and at every step he looked for a catastrophe. In general, there seems to be no settled style of dressing among the males. They wear anything they can get, in some cases, awkwardly modifying the fashions of their fathers, so as to accord with their own altered view of what is becoming. But, ridiculous as many of them now appear in foreign habiliments, the Tahitians presented a far different appearance in the original national costume, which was graceful in the extreme, modest to all but the prudish, and peculiarly adapted to the climate. But the short kilts of dyed tappa, the tasseled morose, and other articles formerly worn, are, at the present day, prohibited by law as in decorous. For what reason necklaces and garlands of flowers among the women were also forbidden, I never could learn, but it is said that they were associated in some way with a forgotten heathen observance. Many pleasant and seemingly innocent sports and pastimes are likewise interdicted. In old times there were several athletic games practiced such as wrestling, foot racing, throwing the javelin, and archery. In all these they greatly excelled, and for some splendid festivals were instituted. Among their everyday amusements were dancing, tossing the football, kite flying, flute playing, and singing traditional ballads. Now all punishable offenses, though most of them have been so long in disuse that they are nearly forgotten. In the same way the opio or festive harvest home of the breadfruit has been suppressed. Though as described to me by Captain Bob it seemed wholly free from any immoral tendency. Against tattooing of any kind there is a severe law. That this abolition of their national amusements and customs was not willingly acquiesced in is shown in the frequent violation of many of the statutes inhibiting them and especially in the frequency with which their heavars or dances are practiced in secret. Doubtless in thus denationalizing the Tahitians as it were the missionaries were prompted by a sincere desire for good, but the effect has been lamentable. As replied with no amusements, in place of those forbidden the Tahitians, who require more recreation than other people, have sunk into a listnessness or indulgent sensualities a hundred times more pernicious than all the games ever celebrated in the Temple of Tani. Chapter 48. Tahiti as it is As in the last few chapters several matters connected with the general condition of the natives have been incidentally touched upon, it may be well not to leave so important a subject in a state calculated to convey erroneous impressions. Let us bestow upon it therefore something more than a mere cursory glance. But in the first place let it be distinctly understood that in all I have to say upon this subject both here and elsewhere I mean no harm to the missionaries nor their cause. I merely desire to set forth things as they actually exist. Of the results which have flowed from the intercourse of foreigners with the Polynesians, including the attempts to civilize and Christianize them by the missionaries, Tahiti on many accounts is obviously the fairest practical example. Indeed it may now be asserted that the experiment of Christianizing the Tahitians and improving their social condition by the introduction of foreign customs has been fully tried. The present generation have grown up under the auspices of their religious instructors, and although it may be urged that the labors of the latter have at times been more or less obstructed by unprincipled foreigners, still this in no wise renders Tahiti any less a fair illustration. For with obstacles like these the missionaries in Polynesia must always and everywhere struggle. Nearly sixty years have elapsed since the Tahitian mission was started, and during this period it has received the unceasing prayers and contributions of its friends abroad, nor has any enterprise of the kind called forth more devotion on the part of those directly employed in it. It matters not that the earlier laborers in the work, although strictly conscientious, were as a class ignorant and in many cases deplorably bigoted. Such traits have in some degree characterized the pioneers of all faiths, and although in zeal and disinterestedness the missionaries now on the island are perhaps inferior to their predecessors, they have nevertheless, in their own way at least, labored hard to make a Christian people of their charge. Let us now glance at the most obvious changes wrought in their condition. The entire system of idolatry has been done away, together with several barbarous practices engrafted thereon, but this result is not so much to be ascribed to the missionaries as to the civilizing effects of a long and constant intercourse with whites of all nations, to whom for many years Tahiti has been one of the principal places of resort in the South Seas. At the Sandwich Islands, the potent institution of the taboo, together with the entire paganism of the island, was utterly abolished by a voluntary act of the natives, sometime previous to the arrival of the first missionaries among them. The next most striking change in the Tahitians is this, from the permanent residents among them of influential and respectable foreigners, as well as from the frequent visits of ships of war recognizing the nationality of the island, its inhabitants are no longer deemed fit subjects for the atrocities practiced upon mere savages, and hence, secure from retaliation, vessels of all kinds now enter their harbors with perfect safety. But let us consider what results are directly ascribable to the missionaries alone. In all cases, they have striven hard to mitigate the evils resulting from the commerce with the whites in general. Such attempts, however, have been rather injudicious and often ineffectual. In truth, a barrier almost insurmountable is presented in the dispositions of the people themselves. Still, in this respect, the morality of the islanders is, upon the whole, improved by the presence of the missionaries. But the greatest achievement of the latter, and one which in itself is most hopeful and gratifying, is that they have translated the entire Bible into the language of the island, and I have myself known several who were able to read it with facility. They have also established churches and schools for both children and adults. The latter, I regret to say, are now much neglected, which must be ascribed in a great measure to the disorders growing out of the proceedings of the French. It were unnecessary here to enter diffusely into matters connected with the internal government of the Tahitian churches and schools. Nor upon this head is my information copious enough to warrant me in presenting details. But we do not need them. We are merely considering general results as made apparent in the moral and religious condition of the island at large. Upon a subject like this, however, it would be altogether too assuming for a single individual to decide. And so, in place of my own random observations, which may be found elsewhere, I will here present those of several known authors made under various circumstances at different periods and down to a comparatively late date. A few very brief extracts will enable the reader to mark for himself what progressive improvement, if any, has taken place. Nor must it be overlooked that of these authorities the two first in order are largely quoted by the right reverend M. Russell in a work composed for the express purpose of imparting information on the subject of Christian missions in Polynesia. And he frankly acknowledges, moreover, that they are such as, quote, cannot fail to have great weight with the public, end quote. Footnote. Polynesia or an historical account of the principal islands of the South Sea by the right reverend M. Russell L.L.D. Harper's Family Library Edition, page 96. End footnote. After alluding to the manifold evils entailed upon the natives by foreigners and their singularly inert condition, and after somewhat too severely denouncing the undeniable errors of the mission, quote Sibu, the Russian navigator says, quote, a religion like this which forbids every innocent pleasure and cramps or annihilates every mental power is a libel on the divine founder of Christianity. It is true that the religion of the missionaries has, with a great deal of evil, affected some good. It has constrained the vices of theft and incontinence, but it has given birth to ignorance, hypocrisy, and a hatred of all other modes of faith which was once foreign to the open and benevolent character of the Tahitian. Footnote. A new voyage round the world in the years 1823, 24, 25, 26 by Otto von Kotsubu, post-captain in the Russian Imperial Service, London, 1830, two volumes octavo. Volume 1, page 168, end footnote. Captain Bici says that while at Tahiti he saw scenes, quote, which must have convinced the greatest skeptic of the thoroughly immoral condition of the people and which would force him to conclude, as Turnbull did many years previous, footnote. The author of a voyage round the world in the years 1800 to 1804, three volumes octavo, London, 1805, and footnote, that their intercourse with the Europeans had tended to debase rather than exalt their condition. Footnote. Narrative of a voyage to the Pacific and Bering Straits under the command of Captain F.W. Bici, R.N., London, 1831, volume 1, page 287, end footnote. About the year 1834, Daniel Wheeler, an honest-hearted Quaker, prompted by motives of the purest philanthropy, visited in a vessel of his own most of the missionary settlements in the South Seas. He remained some time at Tahiti, receiving the hospitalities of the missionaries there and from time to time exhorting the natives. After bewailing their social condition, he frankly says of their religious state, quote, certainly appearances are unpromising, and however unwilling to adopt such a conclusion, there is reason to apprehend that Christian principle is a great rarity. Footnote. Memoirs of the life and gospel labors of the late Daniel Wheeler, a minister of the Society of Friends, London, 1842, Octavo, page 757, end footnote. Such, then, is the testimony of good and unbiased men who have been upon the spot. But how comes it to differ so widely from impressions of others at home? Simply thus, instead of estimating the result of missionary labors by the number of heathens who have actually been made to understand in practice, in some measure at least, the precepts of Christianity, this result has been unwarrantably inferred from the number of those who, without any understanding of these things, have in any way been induced to abandon idolatry and conform to certain outward observances. By authority of some kind or other, exerted upon the natives through their chiefs and promoted by the hope of some worldly benefit to the latter and not by appeals to the reason, have conversions in Polynesia been in most cases brought about. Even in one or two instances, so often held up as wonderful examples of divine power where the natives have impulsively burned their idols and rushed to the waters of baptism, the very suddenness of the change has but indicated its unsoundness. William's The Martyr of Aromanga relates an instance where the inhabitants of an island professing Christianity voluntarily assembled and solemnly revived all their heathen customs. All the world over, facts are more eloquent than words, and the following will show in what estimation the missionaries themselves hold the present state of Christianity and morals among the converted Polynesians. On the island of Aimeo, attached to the Tahitian mission, is a seminary under the charge of the reverent Mr. Simpson and wife for the education of the children of the missionaries exclusively. Sent home, in many cases at a very early age, to finish their education, the pupils here are taught nothing but the rudiments of knowledge, nothing more than may be learned in the native schools. Notwithstanding this, the two races are kept as far as possible from associating, the avowed reason being to preserve the young whites from moral contamination. The better to ensure this end, every effort is made to prevent them from acquiring the native language. They went even further at the Sandwich Islands, where a few years ago a playground for the children of the missionaries was enclosed with a fence many feet high, the more effectually to exclude the wicked little Hawaiians. And yet, strange as it may seem, the depravity among the Polynesians, which renders precautions like these necessary, was in a measure unknown before their intercourse with the whites. The excellent Captain Wilson, who took the first missionaries out to Tahiti, affirms that the people of that island had in many things, quote, more refined ideas of decency than ourselves. Footnote, a missionary voyage to the South Pacific Ocean, appendix, page 336, 342. And footnote, Vancouver also has some noteworthy ideas on this subject respecting the Sandwich Islanders. Footnote, Sea Vancouver's voyages, Porto Edition, volume 1, page 172. And footnote, that the immorality alluded to is continually increasing, is plainly shown in the numerous, severe, and perpetually violated laws against licentiousness of all kinds in both groups of islands. It is hardly to be expected that the missionaries would send home accounts of this state of things. Hence, Captain Beachy, in alluding to the Polynesian researches of Ellis, says that the author has impressed his readers with a far more elevated idea of the moral condition of the Tahitians and the degree of civilization to which they have attained than they deserve, or at least than the facts which came under his observation authorized. He even goes on to say that in his intercourse with the islanders, quote, they had no fear of him and consequently acted from the impulse of their natural feelings so that he was the better enabled to obtain a correct knowledge of their real disposition and habits. Footnote, Beachy's narrative, page 269, and footnote. From my own familiar intercourse with the natives, this last reflection still more forcibly applies to myself. End of chapters 47 and 48, recording by Tricia G. Chapters 49 and 50 of Omu. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Omu, a narrative of adventures in the South Seas by Herman Melville. Chapter 49. Same subject continued. We have glanced at their moral and religious condition. Let us see how it is with them socially and in other respects. It has been said that the only way to civilize a people is to form in them habits of industry. Judged by this principle, the Tahitians are less civilized now than formerly. True, their constitutional indolence is excessive. But surely if the spirit of Christianity is among them, so un-Christian advice ought to be at least partially remedied. But the reverse is the fact. Instead of acquiring new occupations, old ones have been discontinued. As previously remarked, the manufacture of Tapa is nearly obsolete in many parts of the island. So too with that of the native tools and domestic utensils, very few of which are now fabricated since the superiority of European wares has been made so evident. This, however, would be all very well were the natives to apply themselves to such occupations as would enable them to supply the few articles they need. But they are far from doing so, and the majority being unable to obtain European substitutes for many things before made by themselves, the inevitable consequences seen in the present wretched and destitute mode of life among the common people. To me, so recently from a primitive valley of the Marquesas, the aspect of most of the dwellings of the poorer Tahitians and their general habits seemed anything but tidy, nor could I avoid a comparison immeasurably to the disadvantage of these partially civilized islanders. In Tahiti the people have nothing to do, and idleness everywhere is the parent of vice. There is scarcely anything, says the good old Quaker Wheeler, so striking or pitiable as their aimless, nervous mode of spending life. Attempts have repeatedly been made to rouse them from their sluggishness, but in vain. Several years ago the cultivation of cotton was introduced, and with their usual love of novelty they went to work with great alacrity. But the interest excited quickly subsided, and now not a pound of the article is raised. About the same time machinery for weaving was sent out from London, and a factory was started at Afrehitu in Aimeo. The whiz of the wheels and spindles brought in volunteers from all quarters, who deemed it a privilege to be admitted to work. Yet in six months not a boy could be hired, and the machinery was knocked down and packed off to Sydney. It was the same way with the cultivation of the sugarcane, a plant indigenous to the island, peculiarly fitted to the soil and climate, and of so excellent a quality that Bly took slips of it to the West Indies. All the plantations went on famously for a while, the natives swarming in the fields like ants, and making a prodigious stir. What few plantations now remain are owned and worked by whites, who would rather pay a drunken sailor 18 or 20 Spanish dollars a month than hire a sober native for his fish and taro. It is well worthy remark here that every evidence of civilization among the South Sea islands directly pertains to foreigners, though the fact of such evidence existing at all is usually urged as a proof of the elevated condition of the natives. As at Honolulu, the capital of the Sandwich Islands, there are fine dwelling houses, several hotels and barber shops, I even billiard rooms, but all these are owned and used be it observed by whites. There are tailors and blacksmiths and carpenters also, but not one of them is a native. The fact is that the mechanical and agricultural employments of civilized life require a kind of exertion altogether too steady and sustained to agree with an indolent people like the Polynesians. Calculated for a state of nature, in a climate providentially adapted to it, they are unfit for any other. Nay, as a race, they cannot otherwise long exist. The following statement speaks for itself. About the year 1777, Captain Cook estimated the population of Tahiti about 200,000. Footnote. I was convinced, he adds, that from the vast swarms that everywhere appeared, this estimate was not at all too great. And footnote. By a regular census, taken some four or five years ago, it was found to be only 9,000. Footnote. For an allusion to this census, see one of the chapters on Tahiti in the volumes of the U.S. Exploring Expedition. And for the almost incredible depopulation of the Sandwich Islands in recent years, see the same work. The progressive decrease in certain districts for a considerable period is there marked. Ruchenberger, an intelligent surgeon in the United States Navy, takes the following instance from the records kept on the islands. This district of Rohalo, in Hawaii, at one time numbered 8,679 souls. Four years after, the population was 6,175. Decrease in that time, 2,504. No extraordinary cause is assigned for this depopulation. Vidae a voyage around the world in the years 1835, 3637, by W.S. Ruchenberger M.D., Philadelphia, 1838, Octavo. The chapter on the Sandwich Islands. And footnote. This amazing decrease not only shows the malignancy of the evils necessary to produce it, but from the fact the interference unavoidably follows that all the wars, child murders, and other depopulating causes alleged to have existed in former times were nothing in comparison to them. These evils, of course, are solely of foreign origin. To say nothing of the effects of drunkenness, the occasional inroads of the smallpox, and other things which might be mentioned, it is sufficient to allude to a virulent disease which now taints the blood of at least two-thirds of the common people of the island, and in some form or other is transmitted from father to son. Their first horror and consternation at the earlier ravages of the Scourge were pitiable in the extreme. The very name bestowed upon it is a combination of all that is horrid and unmentionable to a civilized being.  We want no other salvation than to live in this world. Where are there any saved through your speech? Pomerie is dead, and we are having the worst diseases. When will you give over? At present the virulence of the disorder in individual cases has somewhat abated, but the poison is only the more widely diffused. How dreadful and appalling breaks forth, old wheeler, the consideration that the intercourse of distant nations should have entailed upon these poor, untutored islanders a curse unprecedented and unheard of in the annals of history. In view of these things, who can remain blind to the fact that so far as mere temporal felicity is concerned, the Tahitians are far worse off now than formerly, and although their circumstances upon the whole are bettered by the presence of the missionaries, the benefits conferred by the latter become utterly insignificant when confronted with the vast preponderance of evil brought by the Tahitians are hopeless, nor can the most devoted efforts now exempt them from furnishing a marked illustration of a principle which history has always exemplified, years ago brought to a stand where all that is corrupt in barbarism and civilization unite to the exclusion of the virtues of either state, like other uncivilized beings brought into contact with Europeans, they must here remain stationary until utterly extinct. The islanders themselves are mournfully watching their doom. Several years since, Pomeri II said to Tyremen and Bennett, the deputies of the London Missionary Society, quote, you have come to see me at a very bad time, your ancestors came in the time of men when Tahiti was inhabited, you are come to behold just the remnant of my people, end quote. Of like import was the prediction of Tiarmuar, the high priest of Pari who lived over a hundred years ago, I have frequently heard it chanted in a low sad tone by aged Tahitians, a hairy tafao, a toro tafararo, a now-ta-ta-rata, the palm tree shall grow, the coral shall spread, but man shall cease. Chapter 50 Something Happens to Long Ghost We will now return to the narrative. The day before the Julia sailed, Dr. Johnson paid his last call. He was not quite so bland as usual. All he wanted was the men's names to a paper certifying to their having received from him sundry medicaments therein mentioned. This voucher endorsed by Captain Guy secured his pay. But he would not have obtained for it the sailor's signs manual had either the doctor or myself been present at the time. Now my long friend wasted no love upon Johnson, but for reasons of his own hated him heartily. All the same thing in one sense, for either passion argues an object deserving thereof. And so, to be hated cordially, is only a left-handed compliment which shows how foolish it is to be bitter against anyone.  And hence, I often remonstrated with long ghost when he flew out against him and heaped upon him all manner of scurrilous epithets. In his professional brother's presence, however, he never acted thus, maintaining an amiable exterior to help along the jokes which were played. I am now going to tell another story in which my long friend figures with the physician. I do not wish to bring one or the other of them too often upon the stage, but as the thing actually happened I must relate it. A few days after Johnson presented his bill, as above mentioned, the doctor expressed to me his regret that although he, Johnson, had apparently been played off for our entertainment, yet, nevertheless, he had made money out of the transaction. And I wonder, added the doctor, if that now he cannot expect to receive any further pay, he could be induced to call again. By a curious coincidence, not five minutes after making this observation, Dr. Long Ghost himself fell down in an unaccountable fit, and without asking anybody's leave, Captain Bob, who was by, at once dispatched a boy, hotfoot, for Johnson. Meanwhile, we carried him to the Calibusa, and the natives, who assembled in numbers, suggested various modes of treatment. One rather energetic practitioner was for holding the patient by the shoulders while somebody tugged at his feet. This resuscitary operation was called the patata. But thinking our long comrade sufficiently lengthy without additional time, we declined patata in him. Presently, the physician was spied coming along the broom-road at a great rate and so absorbed in the business of locomotion that he heeded not the imprudence of being in a hurry in a tropical climate. He was in a profuse perspiration, which must have been owing to the warmth of his feelings, notwithstanding we had supposed to him a man of no heart. But his benevolent taste upon this occasion was consequently accounted for. It merely arose from professional curiosity to behold a case most unusual in his Polynesian practice. Now, under certain circumstances, sailors generally so frolicsome are exceedingly particular in having everything conducted with the strictest propriety. Accordingly, they deputed me, as his intimate friend, to sit at Long Ghost's head so as to be ready to officiate a spokesman and answer all questions propounded, the rest to keep silent. What's the matter, exclaimed Johnson, out of breath and bursting into the calabusa? How did it happen? Speak quick! And he was looking at Long Ghost. I told him how the fit came on. Singular, he observed, very good enough pulse, and he let go of it and placed his hand upon his heart. But what's all that frothing at the mouth, he continued, and bless me, look at the abdomen. The region thus denominated exhibited the most unaccountable symptoms, a low rumbling sound was heard, and a sort of undulation was discernible beneath the thin cotton frock. Collexer, suggested a bystander, collic be hanged, shouted the physician, whoever heard of anybody in a trance of the collic. During this, the patient lay upon his back, stark and straight, giving no signs of life except those above mentioned. I'll bleed him, cried Johnson at last, run for a calabash, one of you. Life ho! Here sung out Navy Bob, as if he had just spied a sail. What under the sun's the matter with him? cried the physician, starting his mouth, which had jerked to one side, and there remained fixed. Perhaps at St. Wittes's hornpipe, suggested Bob, hold the calabash, and the lancet was out in a moment. But before the deed could be done the face became natural, a sigh was heaved, the eyelids quivered, opened, closed, and long ghost twitching all over, rolled on his side, and breathed away. By degrees he became sufficiently recovered to speak. After trying to get something coherent out of him Johnson withdrew, evidently disappointed in the scientific interest of the case. Soon after his departure the doctor sat up, and upon being asked what upon earth ailed him shook his head mysteriously. He then deplored the hardship of being an invalid in such a place where there was not the provision for his comfort. This awakened the compassion of our good old keeper, who offered to send him to a place where he would be better cared for. Long ghost acquiesced, and being at once mounted upon the shoulders of four of Captain Bob's men, was marched off in state like the Grand Lama of Tibet. Now I do not pretend to account for his remarkable swoon, but his reason for suffering in the Libusa was strongly suspected to be nothing more than a desire to ensure more regularity in his dinner hour, hoping that the benevolent native to whom he was going would set a good table. The next morning we were all envying his fortune, when, of a sudden, he bolted in upon us looking decidedly out of humor. Hang it, he cried, I'm worse off than ever. Let me have some breakfast. We lowered our slender bag of ship-stores from a rafter and handed him a biscuit. While this was being munched, he went on and told his story. After leaving here, they trotted me back into a valley and left me in a hut, where an old woman lived by herself.  Ita, ita, ui mati, matinui, no, no, you too sick. The devil matii, said I, give me something to eat. But nothing could be had. Night coming on, I had to stay. Creeping into a corner, I tried to sleep, but it was to no purpose. The old crone must have had the Quincy or something else, and she kept up such a wheezing and choking that at last I sprang and groped after her. But she hobbled away like a goblin, and that was the last of her. As soon as the sun rose, I made the best of my way back, and here I am. He never left us more, nor ever had a second fit. End of chapters 49 and 50 Recording by Tricia G. Chapters 51 and 52 of Omu. This Librabox recording is in the public domain. Omu, a narrative of adventures in the South Seas, by Herman Melville. Chapter 51 Wilson gives us the cut, departure for Aimeo. About three weeks after the Julia's sailing, our condition began to be a little precarious. We were without any regular supply of food. The arrival of ships was growing less frequent, and, what was worse yet, the entire of us. Nor was this to be wondered at. We were obliged to live upon their benevolence when they had little enough for themselves. Besides, we were sometimes driven to acts of marauding, such as kidnapping pigs and cooking them in the groves, at which their proprietors were by no means pleased. In this state of affairs we determined to march off to the consul in a body, and as he had brought us to these straits, demand an adequate maintenance. On the point of starting, Captain Bob's men raised the most outrageous cries and tried to prevent us. Though hitherto we had strolled about wherever we pleased, this grand conjunction of our whole force upon one particular expedition seemed to alarm them. But we assured them that we were not going to assault the village, and so, after a good deal 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. It has a wide veranda, glazed windows, and other appurtenances of a civilized mansion.  The consular office, a small building by itself, is enclosed by the same picket which fences in the lawn. We found the office closed, but in the veranda of the dwelling-house was a lady performing a tonsorial operation on the head of a prim-looking elderly European in a low white cravat. The most domestic little scene I had witnessed since leaving home. Bent upon an interview with Wilson, the sailors now deputed the doctor to step forward as a polite inquirer after his health. The pair stared very hard as he advanced, but no ways disconcerted, he saluted them gravely and inquired for the consul. Upon being informed that he had gone down to the beach, we proceeded in that direction, and soon met a native who told us that, apprised of our vicinity, Wilson was keeping out of the way. We resolved to meet him, and passing through the village he suddenly came walking towards us, having apparently made up his mind that any attempt to elude us would be useless. What do you want of me, you rascals? He cried, a greeting which provoked a retort in no measured terms. At this juncture the natives began to crowd round and several foreigners strolled along. Caught in the very act of speaking to such disreputable acquaintances, Wilson now fidgeted and moved rapidly towards his office, the men following, turning upon them incensed, he bade them be off. He would have nothing more to say to us. And then, hurriedly addressing Captain Bob and Tahitian, he hastened on and never stopped till the postern of Pritchard's wicket was closed behind him. Our good old keeper was now highly excited, bustling about in his huge petticoats and conjuring us to return to the Calabusa, after a little we acquiesced. This interview was decisive, sensible that none of the charges brought against us would stand, yet unwilling formally to withdraw them, the consul now wished to get rid of us all together, but without being suspected of encouraging our escape. Thus only could we account for his conduct. Some of the party, however, with a devotion to principle truly heroic, swore they would never leave him half in what might. For my own part, I began to long for a change, and as there seemed to be no getting away in a ship, I resolved to hit upon some other expedient. But first I cast about for a comrade, and of course the long doctor was chosen. 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 Yankee lads, twins, who were originally deserting their ship at Fanning's Island, an uninhabited spot but exceedingly prolific in fruit of all kinds, had, after a long residence there, roved about among the society group. They were last from Aimeo, the island immediately adjoining, where they had been in the employ of two foreigners who had recently started a plantation there. These persons, they said, asked them to send over from Pappity if they could, to white men for field laborers. 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 Pappity in their boat. At the interview which ensued, as Peter and Paul, and they agreed to give Peter and Paul fifteen silver dollars a month, promising something more, should we remain with them permanently. What they wanted was men who would stay. To elude the natives, many of whom not exactly understanding our relations with the consul, might arrest us were they to see us departing, the coming midnight was appointed for that purpose. When the hour drew nigh, we disclosed our intention to the rest. Some upgraded us for deserting them. Others applauded and said that on the first opportunity, they would follow our example. At last we bade them farewell. And now there would be a serene sadness in thinking over the scene, since we never saw them again, had not all been dashed by McGee's picking the doctor's pocket of a jackknife in the very act of embracing him. We stole down to the beach, there under the shadow of a grove the boat was wading. After some delay, we shipped the oars and pulling outside of the reef set the sail, and with a fair wind, glided away for Aimeo. 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 hung round with soft, trembling stars. The channel is some five leagues wide. On one hand you have the three great peaks of Tahiti lording it over the ranges of mountains and valleys, and on the other the equally romantic elevations of Aimeo, high above which a lone peak, called by our companions the Marling Spike shot up its verdant spire. The planters were quite sociable. They had been seafaring men, and this of course was a bond between us. To strengthen it, a flask of wine was produced, one of several which had been procured in person from the French Admiral Steward, for whom the planters when on a former visit to Pappity had done a good turn by introducing the amorous Frenchmen to the ladies ashore. Besides this, they had a calabash filled with wild boars meat, baked yams, breadfruit and tombase potatoes. Pipes and tobacco also were produced, and while regaling ourselves, plenty of stories were told about the neighboring islands. At last we heard the roar of the Aimeo Reef, and gliding through a break, floated over the expanse within which was smooth as a young girl's brow and beached the boat. Chapter 52 The Valley of Martyr We went up through groves to an open space where we heard voices and a light was seen glimmering from out of bamboo dwelling. It was the planter's retreat, and in their absence several girls were keeping house assisted by an old native who, wrapped up in tappa, lay in the corner smoking. A hasty meal was prepared, and after it we assayed a nap, but alas a plague little anticipated prevented. Unknown into heady, the mosquitoes were fairly eddy to round us, but more of them a-non. We were up be-times and strolled out to view the country. We were in the valley of Martyr, shut in on both sides by lofty hills. Here and there were steep cliffs gay with flowering shrubs or hung with pendulous vines swinging blossoms in the air. Of considerable width at the sea, the veil contracts as it runs inland, terminating at the distance of several miles in a range of the most grotesque elevations which seem embattled with turrets and towers grown over with Bairdour and waving with trees. The valley itself is a wilderness of woodland, with links of streams flashing through and narrow pathways fairly tunneled through masses of foliage. All alone in this wild place was the abode of the planters, the only one back from the beach, their sole neighbors, the few fishermen and their families dwelling in a small grove of coconut trees whose roots were washed by the sea. The cleared tract which they occupied comprised some thirty acres, level as a prairie, part of which was under cultivation. The hole being fenced in by a stout palisade of trunks and boughs of trees staked firmly in the ground. This was necessary as a defense against the wild cattle and hogs overrunning the island. Thus far tombase potatoes, footnote perhaps the finest sweet potato in the world. It derives its name from a district of Peru near Cape Blanco very favorable to its growth where also it is extensively cultivated. The root is very large, sometimes as big as a good sized melon and footnote. The principal crop raised a ready sale for them being obtained among the shipping touching at Papati. There was a small patch of the taro or indian turnip also another of yams and in one corner a thrifty growth of the sugar cane just ripening. On the side of the enclosure next to the sea was the house newly built of bamboos in the native style. The furniture consisted of a couple sea chests, an old box a few cooking utensils and agricultural tools together with three fouling pieces hanging from a rafter and two enormous hammocks swinging in opposite corners and composed of dried bullock hides stretched out with poles. The whole plantation was shut in by a dense forest and close by the house a dwarf aowa or species of banyan tree obviously been left twisting over the palisade in the most grotesque manner and thus made a pleasant shade. The branches of this curious tree afforded 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 before sunrise on the reef putting of indian turnip fried bananas and roasted breadfruit during the repast our new friends were quite sociable and communicative it seems that like nearly all uneducated foreigners residing in Polynesia they had some time previous deserted from a ship and having heard a good deal about the money to be made by raising supplies for whaling vessels they determined upon embarking in the business strolling about with this intention they at last came to martyr and thinking the soil would suit set themselves to work they began by finding out the owner of the particular spot coveted and then making a tile of him he turned out to be Tonoy the chief of the fishermen who one day when exhilarated with brandy tore his meager tappa from his loins and gave me to know that he was allied by blood with pomery himself and that his mother came from the illustrious race of pontiffs who in old times swayed their bamboo crozier over all the pagans of Aimeo a regal and right reverend lineage but at the time I speak of the dusky noble was in decayed circumstances and therefore by no means unwilling to alienate a few useless acres as an equivalent he received from the strangers two or three rheumatic old muskets several red woolen shirts to be provided for in his old age he was always defined a home with the planters desirous of living in the cozy footing of a father-in-law he frankly offered his two daughters for wives but as such they were politely declined the adventurers though not averse to courting being unwilling to entangle themselves in a matrimonial alliance however splendid in point of family Tonoy's men the fishermen of the grove were a sad set secluded in a great measure from the ministrations of the missionaries they gave themselves up to all manner of lazy wickedness strolling among the trees of a morning you came upon them napping on the shady side of a canoe hauled up among the bushes lying under a tree smoking or more frequently still gambling with pebbles though a little tobacco accepted and gambled for at their outlandish games it would be hard to tell other idle diversions they had also in which they seemed to take great delight as for fishing it employed but a small part of their time upon the haul they were a merry indigent godless race Tonoy the old sinner leaning against the fallen trunk of a coconut tree invariably squandered his mornings at pebbles a gray-headed rook of a native regularly plucking him of every other stick of tobacco obtained from his friends the planters toward afternoon he strolled back to their abode where he tarried till the next morning smoking and snoozing and at times creating about the hapless fortunes of the house of Tonoy but like any other easygoing old daughter he seemed for the most part perfectly content with cheerful bored and lodging on the haul the valley of Martyr was the quietest place imaginable could the mosquitoes be induced to emigrate one might spend the month of August there quite pleasantly but this was not the case with the luckless long ghost and myself as will presently be seen End of chapters 51 and 52 Recording by Tricia G