While the launch was taking
her and Tehei to the little jetty, the sound of music and of singing
drifted across the quiet lagoon. Throughout the Society Islands we
had been continually informed that we would find the Bora Borans
very jolly. Charmian and I went ashore to see, and on the village
green, by forgotten graves on the beach, found the youths and
maidens dancing, flower-garlanded and flower-bedecked, with strange
phosphorescent flowers in their hair that pulsed and dimmed and
glowed in the moonlight. Farther along the beach we came upon a
huge grass house, oval-shaped seventy feet in length, where the
elders of the village were singing himines. They, too, were flower-
garlanded and jolly, and they welcomed us into the fold as little
lost sheep straying along from outer darkness.
Early next morning Tehei was on board, with a string of fresh-caught
fish and an invitation to dinner for that evening. On the way to
dinner, we dropped in at the himine house. The same elders were
singing, with here or there a youth or maiden that we had not seen
the previous night. From all the signs, a feast was in preparation.
Towering up from the floor was a mountain of fruits and vegetables,
flanked on either side by numerous chickens tethered by cocoanut
strips. After several himines had been sung, one of the men arose
and made oration. The oration was made to us, and though it was
Greek to us, we knew that in some way it connected us with that
mountain of provender.
"Can it be that they are presenting us with all that?" Charmian
whispered.
"Impossible," I muttered back. "Why should they be giving it to us?
Besides, there is no room on the Snark for it. We could not eat a
tithe of it. The rest would spoil. Maybe they are inviting us to
the feast. At any rate, that they should give all that to us is
impossible."
Nevertheless we found ourselves once more in the high seat of
abundance. The orator, by gestures unmistakable, in detail
presented every item in the mountain to us, and next he presented it
to us in toto. It was an embarrassing moment. What would you do if
you lived in a hall bedroom and a friend gave you a white elephant?
Our Snark was no more than a hall bedroom, and already she was
loaded down with the abundance of Tahaa. This new supply was too
much. We blushed, and stammered, and mauruuru'd. We mauruuru'd
with repeated nui's which conveyed the largeness and
overwhelmingness of our thanks. At the same time, by signs, we
committed the awful breach of etiquette of not accepting the
present. The himine singers' disappointment was plainly betrayed,
and that evening, aided by Tehei, we compromised by accepting one
chicken, one bunch of bananas, one bunch of taro, and so on down the
list.
But there was no escaping the abundance. I bought a dozen chickens
from a native out in the country, and the following day he delivered
thirteen chickens along with a canoe-load of fruit. The French
storekeeper presented us with pomegranates and lent us his finest
horse. The gendarme did likewise, lending us a horse that was the
very apple of his eye. And everybody sent us flowers. The Snark
was a fruit-stand and a greengrocer's shop masquerading under the
guise of a conservatory. We went around flower-garlanded all the
time. When the himine singers came on board to sing, the maidens
kissed us welcome, and the crew, from captain to cabin-boy, lost its
heart to the maidens of Bora Bora. Tehei got up a big fishing
expedition in our honour, to which we went in a double canoe,
paddled by a dozen strapping Amazons. We were relieved that no fish
were caught, else the Snark would have sunk at her moorings.
The days passed, but the abundance did not diminish. On the day of
departure, canoe after canoe put off to us. Tehei brought cucumbers
and a young papaia tree burdened with splendid fruit. Also, for me
he brought a tiny, double canoe with fishing apparatus complete.
Further, he brought fruits and vegetables with the same lavishness
as at Tahaa. Bihaura brought various special presents for Charmian,
such as silk-cotton pillows, fans, and fancy mats. The whole
population brought fruits, flowers, and chickens. And Bihaura added
a live sucking pig. Natives whom I did not remember ever having
seen before strayed over the rail and presented me with such things
as fish-poles, fish-lines, and fish-hooks carved from pearl-shell.
As the Snark sailed out through the reef, she had a cutter in tow.
This was the craft that was to take Bihaura back to Tahaa - but not
Tehei. I had yielded at last, and he was one of the crew of the
Snark. When the cutter cast off and headed east, and the Snark's
bow turned toward the west, Tehei knelt down by the cockpit and
breathed a silent prayer, the tears flowing down his cheeks. A week
later, when Martin got around to developing and printing, he showed
Tehei some of the photographs. And that brown-skinned son of
Polynesia, gazing on the pictured lineaments of his beloved Bihaura
broke down in tears.
But the abundance! There was so much of it. We could not work the
Snark for the fruit that was in the way. She was festooned with
fruit. The life-boat and launch were packed with it. The awning-
guys groaned under their burdens. But once we struck the full
trade-wind sea, the disburdening began. At every roll the Snark
shook overboard a bunch or so of bananas and cocoanuts, or a basket
of limes.
