That night we abode in the house of Rartoo, a hospitable old chief. It
was right on the shore of the lake; and at supper we looked out
through a rustling screen of foliage upon the surface of the starlit
water.
The next day we rambled about, and found a happy little community,
comparatively free from many deplorable evils to which the rest of
their countrymen are subject. Their time, too, was more occupied. To
my surprise, the manufacture of tappa was going on in several
buildings. European calicoes were seldom seen, and not many articles
of foreign origin of any description.
The people of Tamai were nominally Christians; but being so remote
from ecclesiastical jurisdiction, their religion sat lightly upon
them. We had been told, even, that many heathenish games and dances
still secretly lingered in their valley.
Now the prospect of seeing an old-fashioned "hevar," or Tahitian reel,
was one of the inducements which brought us here; and so, finding
Rartoo rather liberal in his religious ideas, we disclosed our
desire. At first he demurred; and shrugging his shoulders like a
Frenchman, declared it could not be brought about - was a dangerous
matter to attempt, and might bring all concerned into trouble.
