Under Zeke's protection, we were secure from all impertinent
interference in our concerns on the part of the natives. But as
friendless wanderers over the island, we ran the risk of being
apprehended as runaways, and, as such, sent back to Tahiti. The
truth is that the rewards constantly offered for the apprehension of
deserters from ships induce some of the natives to eye all strangers
suspiciously.
A passport was therefore desirable; but such a thing had never been
heard of in Imeeo. At last, Long Ghost suggested that, as the Yankee
was well known and much respected all over the island, we should
endeavour to obtain from him some sort of paper, not only certifying
to our having been in his employ, but also to our not being
highwaymen, kidnappers, nor yet runaway seamen. Even written in
English, a paper like this would answer every purpose; for the
unlettered natives, standing in great awe of the document, would not
dare to molest us until acquainted with its purport. Then, if it
came to the worst, we might repair to the nearest missionary, and have
the passport explained.
Upon informing Zeke of these matters, he seemed highly flattered with
the opinion we entertained of his reputation abroad; and he agreed to
oblige us. The doctor at once offered to furnish him with a draught
of the paper; but he refused, saying he would write it himself. With
a rooster's quill, therefore, a bit of soiled paper, and a stout
heart, he set to work. Evidently he was not accustomed to composition;
for his literary throes were so violent that the doctor suggested
that some sort of a Caesarian operation might be necessary.
The precious paper was at last finished; and a great curiosity it was.
We were much diverted with his reasons for not dating it.
"In this here dummed eliminate," he observed, "a feller can't keep the
run of the months, nohow; cause there's no seasons; no summer and
winter, to go by. One's etarnally thinkin' it's always July, it's so
pesky hot."
A passport provided, we cast about for some means of getting to
Taloo.
The island of Imeeo is very nearly surrounded by a regular breakwater
of coral extending within a mile or less of the shore. The smooth
canal within furnishes the best means of communication with the
different settlements; all of which, with the exception of Tamai, are
right upon the water. And so indolent are the Imeeose that they think
nothing of going twenty or thirty miles round the island in a canoe in
order to reach a place not a quarter of that distance by land. But as
hinted before, the fear of the bullocks has something to do with
this.
The idea of journeying in a canoe struck our fancy quite pleasantly;
and we at once set about chartering one, if possible.
