THE HUNTING-FEAST; AND A VISIT TO AFREHITOO
TWO BULLOCKS and a boar! No bad trophies of our day's sport. So by
torchlight we marched into the plantation, the wild hog rocking from
its pole, and the doctor singing an old hunting-song - Tally-ho! the
chorus of which swelled high above the yells of the natives.
We resolved to make a night of it. Kindling a great fire just outside
the dwelling, and hanging one of the heifer's quarters from a limb of
the banian-tree, everyone was at liberty to cut and broil for
himself. Baskets of roasted bread-fruit, and plenty of taro pudding;
bunches of bananas, and young cocoa-nuts, had also been provided by
the natives against our return.
The fire burned bravely, keeping off the mosquitoes, and making every
man's face glow like a beaker of Port. The meat had the true
wild-game flavour, not at all impaired by our famous appetites, and a
couple of flasks of white brandy, which Zeke, producing from his
secret store, circulated freely.
There was no end to my long comrade's spirits. After telling his
stories, and singing his songs, he sprang to his feet, clasped a
young damsel of the grove round the waist, and waltzed over the grass
with her. But there's no telling all the pranks he played that night.
The natives, who delight in a wag, emphatically pronounced him
"maitai."
It was long after midnight ere we broke up; but when the rest had
retired, Zeke, with the true thrift of a Yankee, salted down what was
left of the meat.
The next day was Sunday; and at my request, Shorty accompanied me to
Afrehitoo - a neighbouring bay, and the seat of a mission, almost
directly opposite Papeetee. In Afrehitoo is a large church and
school-house, both quite dilapidated; and planted amid shrubbery on a
fine knoll, stands a very tasteful cottage, commanding a view across
the channel. In passing, I caught sight of a graceful calico skirt
disappearing from the piazza through a doorway. The place was the
residence of the missionary.
A trim little sail-boat was dancing out at her moorings, a few yards
from the beach.
Straggling over the low lands in the vicinity were several native
huts - untidy enough - but much better every way than most of those in
Tahiti.
We attended service at the church, where we found but a small
congregation; and after what I had seen in Papeetee, nothing very
interesting took place. But the audience had a curious, fidgety look,
which I knew not how to account for until we ascertained that a
sermon with the eighth commandment for a text was being preached.
It seemed that there lived an Englishman in the district, who, like
our friends, the planters, was cultivating Tombez potatoes for the
Papeetee market.
In spite of all his precautions, the natives were in the habit of
making nocturnal forays into his inclosure, and carrying off the
potatoes.
