The Wild Fishermen, Flourishing Their Weapons, And
Yelling Like So Many Demons To Scare Their Prey, Sprang From Ledge To
Ledge, And Sometimes Darted Their Spears In The Very Midst Of The
Breakers.
But fish-spearing was not the only sport we had at Loohooloo.
Right on
the beach was a mighty old cocoa-nut tree, the roots of which had
been underwashed by the waves so that the trunk inclined far over its
base. From the tuft of the tree a stout cord of bark depended, the
end of which swept the water several yards from the shore. This was a
Tahitian swing. A native lad seizes hold of the cord, and, after
swinging to and fro quite leisurely, all at once sends himself fifty
or sixty feet from the water, rushing through the air like a rocket.
I doubt whether any of our rope-dancers would attempt the feat. For
my own part, I had neither head nor heart for it; so, after sending a
lad aloft with an additional cord, by way of security, I constructed a
large basket of green boughs, in which I and some particular friends
of mine used to swing over sea and land by the hour.
CHAPTER LXXI.
WE START FOR TALOO
BRIGHT was the morning, and brighter still the smiles of the young
ladies who accompanied us, when we sprang into a sort of family canoe
- wide and roomy - and bade adieu to the hospitable Marharvai and his
tenantry. As we paddled away, they stood upon the beach, waving their
hands, and crying out, "aroha!
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