And when he came to speak of the matter, his
countenance fell, and he leaned dejectedly upon his plane.
"It's too bad!" he sighed, "to wait three long years; and all the
while, dear little Lullee living in the same house with that infernal
chief from Tahar!"
Our curiosity was piqued; the poor carpenter, then, had been falling
in love with some island coquette, who was going to jilt him.
But such was not the case. There was a law prohibiting, under a heavy
penalty, the marriage of a native with a foreigner, unless the
latter, after being three years a resident on the island, was willing
to affirm his settled intention of remaining for life.
William was therefore in a sad way. He told us that he might have
married the girl half-a-dozen times, had it not been for this odious
law: but, latterly, she had become less loving and more giddy,
particularly with the strangers from Tahar. Desperately smitten, and
desirous of securing her at all hazards, he had proposed to the
damsel's friends a nice little arrangement, introductory to marriage;
but they would not hear of it; besides, if the pair were discovered
living together upon such a footing, they would be liable to a
degrading punishment: - sent to work making stone walls and opening
roads for the queen.
Doctor Long Ghost was all sympathy. "Bill, my good fellow," said he,
tremulously, "let me go and talk to her." But Bill, declining the
offer, would not even inform us where his charmer lived.
Leaving the disconsolate Willie planing a plank of New Zealand pine
(an importation from the Bay of Islands), and thinking the while of
Lullee, we went on our way. How his suit prospered in the end we
never learned.
Going from Po-Po's house toward the anchorage of the harbour of Taloo,
you catch no glimpse of the water until, coming out from deep groves,
you all at once find yourself upon the beach. A bay, considered by
many voyagers the most beautiful in the South Seas, then lies before
you. You stand upon one side of what seems a deep green river,
flowing through mountain passes to the sea. Right opposite a majestic
promontory divides the inlet from another, called after its
discoverer, Captain Cook. The face of this promontory toward Taloo
is one verdant wall; and at its base the waters lie still and
fathomless. On the left hand, you just catch a peep of the widening
mouth of the bay, the break in the reef by which ships enter, and,
beyond, the sea. To the right, the inlet, sweeping boldly round the
promontory, runs far away into the land; where, save in one
direction, the hills close in on every side, knee-deep in verdure and
shooting aloft in grotesque peaks.
