"Calabooza! Calabooza Beretanee!" (The English Jail), Cried Our
Conductor, Pointing To The Building.
For a few months past, having been used by the consul as a house of
confinement for his refractory sailors, it was thus styled to
distinguish it from similar places in and about Papeetee.
Though extremely romantic in appearance, on a near approach it proved
hut ill adapted to domestic comfort. In short, it was a mere shell,
recently built, and still unfinished. It was open all round, and
tufts of grass were growing here and there under the very roof. The
only piece of furniture was the "stocks," a clumsy machine for
keeping people in one place, which, I believe, is pretty much out of
date in most countries. It is still in use, however, among the
Spaniards in South America; from whom, it seems, the Tahitians have
borrowed the contrivance, as well as the name by which all places of
confinement are known among them.
The stocks were nothing more than two stout timbers, about twenty feet
in length, and precisely alike. One was placed edgeways on the
ground, and the other, resting on top, left, at regular intervals
along the seam, several round holes, the object of which was evident
at a glance.
By this time, our guide had informed us that he went by the name of
"Capin Bob" (Captain Bob); and a hearty old Bob he proved. It was
just the name for him. From the first, so pleased were we with the
old man that we cheerfully acquiesced in his authority.
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