The dark
mossy stem, over seventy feet high, was perfectly branchless for many
feet above the ground, when it shot out in broad boughs laden with
lustrous leaves of the deepest green. And all round the lower part of
the trunk, thin, slab-like buttresses of bark, perfectly smooth, and
radiating from a common centre, projected along the ground for at
least two yards. From below, these natural props tapered upward until
gradually blended with the trunk itself. There were signs of the wild
cattle having sheltered themselves behind them. Zeke called this the
canoe tree; as in old times it supplied the navies of the Kings of
Tahiti. For canoe building, the woods is still used. Being extremely
dense, and impervious to worms, it is very durable.
Emerging from the forest, when half-way down the hillside, we came
upon an open space, covered with ferns and grass, over which a few
lonely trees were casting long shadows in the setting sun. Here, a
piece of ground some hundred feet square, covered with weeds and
brambles, and sounding hollow to the tread, was inclosed by a ruinous
wall of stones. Tonoi said it was an almost forgotten burial-place, of
great antiquity, where no one had been interred since the islanders
had been Christians. Sealed up in dry, deep vaults, many a dead
heathen was lying here.
Curious to prove the old man's statement, I was anxious to get a peep
at the catacombs; but hermetically overgrown with vegetation as they
were, no aperture was visible.
Before gaining the level of the valley, we passed by the site of a
village, near a watercourse, long since deserted. There was nothing
but stone walls, and rude dismantled foundations of houses,
constructed of the same material. Large trees and brushwood were
growing rankly among them.
I asked Tonoi how long it was since anyone had lived here. "Me,
tammaree (boy) - plenty kannaker (men) Martair," he replied. "Now,
only poor pehe kannaka (fishermen) left - me born here."
Going down the valley, vegetation of every kind presented a different
aspect from that of the high land.
Chief among the trees of the plain on this island is the "Ati," large
and lofty, with a massive trunk, and broad, laurel-shaped leaves. The
wood is splendid. In Tahiti, I was shown a narrow, polished plank fit
to make a cabinet for a king. Taken from the heart of the tree, it
was of a deep, rich scarlet, traced with yellow veins, and in some
places clouded with hazel.
In the same grove with the regal "AH" you may see the beautiful
flowering "Hotoo"; its pyramid of shining leaves diversified with
numberless small, white blossoms.
Planted with trees as the valley is almost throughout its entire
length, I was astonished to observe so very few which were useful to
the natives:
