CHAPTER III--A HOUSE TO LET IN A LOW ISLAND
Never populous, it was yet by a chapter of accidents that I found
the island so deserted that no sound of human life diversified the
hours; that we walked in that trim public garden of a town, among
closed houses, without even a lodging-bill in a window to prove
some tenancy in the back quarters; and, when we visited the
Government bungalow, that Mr. Donat, acting Vice-Resident, greeted
us alone, and entertained us with cocoa-nut punches in the Sessions
Hall and seat of judgment of that widespread archipelago, our
glasses standing arrayed with summonses and census returns. The
unpopularity of a late Vice-Resident had begun the movement of
exodus, his native employes resigning court appointments and
retiring each to his own coco-patch in the remoter districts of the
isle. Upon the back of that, the Governor in Papeete issued a
decree: All land in the Paumotus must be defined and registered by
a certain date. Now, the folk of the archipelago are half nomadic;
a man can scarce be said to belong to a particular atoll; he
belongs to several, perhaps holds a stake and counts cousinship in
half a score; and the inhabitants of Rotoava in particular, man,
woman, and child, and from the gendarme to the Mormon prophet and
the schoolmaster, owned--I was going to say land--owned at least
coral blocks and growing coco-palms in some adjacent isle.
Thither--from the gendarme to the babe in arms, the pastor followed
by his flock, the schoolmaster carrying along with him his
scholars, and the scholars with their books and slates--they had
taken ship some two days previous to our arrival, and were all now
engaged disputing boundaries. Fancy overhears the shrillness of
their disputation mingle with the surf and scatter sea-fowl. It
was admirable to observe the completeness of their flight, like
that of hibernating birds; nothing left but empty houses, like old
nests to be reoccupied in spring; and even the harmless necessary
dominie borne with them in their transmigration. Fifty odd set
out, and only seven, I was informed, remained. But when I made a
feast on board the Casco, more than seven, and nearer seven times
seven, appeared to be my guests. Whence they appeared, how they
were summoned, whither they vanished when the feast was eaten, I
have no guess. In view of Low Island tales, and that awful
frequentation which makes men avoid the seaward beaches of an
atoll, some two score of those that ate with us may have returned,
for the occasion, from the kingdom of the dead.
It was this solitude that put it in our minds to hire a house, and
become, for the time being, indwellers of the isle--a practice I
have ever since, when it was possible, adhered to. Mr. Donat
placed us, with that intent, under the convoy of one Taniera
Mahinui, who combined the incongruous characters of catechist and
convict. The reader may smile, but I affirm he was well qualified
for either part. For that of convict, first of all, by a good
substantial felony, such as in all lands casts the perpetrator in
chains and dungeons. Taniera was a man of birth--the chief a while
ago, as he loved to tell, of a district in Anaa of 800 souls. In
an evil hour it occurred to the authorities in Papeete to charge
the chiefs with the collection of the taxes. It is a question if
much were collected; it is certain that nothing was handed on; and
Taniera, who had distinguished himself by a visit to Papeete and
some high living in restaurants, was chosen for the scapegoat. The
reader must understand that not Taniera but the authorities in
Papeete were first in fault. The charge imposed was
disproportioned. I have not yet heard of any Polynesian capable of
such a burden; honest and upright Hawaiians--one in particular, who
was admired even by the whites as an inflexible magistrate--have
stumbled in the narrow path of the trustee. And Taniera, when the
pinch came, scorned to denounce accomplices; others had shared the
spoil, he bore the penalty alone. He was condemned in five years.
The period, when I had the pleasure of his friendship, was not yet
expired; he still drew prison rations, the sole and not unwelcome
reminder of his chains, and, I believe, looked forward to the date
of his enfranchisement with mere alarm. For he had no sense of
shame in the position; complained of nothing but the defective
table of his place of exile; regretted nothing but the fowls and
eggs and fish of his own more favoured island. And as for his
parishioners, they did not think one hair the less of him. A
schoolboy, mulcted in ten thousand lines of Greek and dwelling
sequestered in the dormitories, enjoys unabated consideration from
his fellows. So with Taniera: a marked man, not a dishonoured;
having fallen under the lash of the unthinkable gods; a Job,
perhaps, or say a Taniera in the den of lions. Songs are likely
made and sung about this saintly Robin Hood. On the other hand, he
was even highly qualified for his office in the Church; being by
nature a grave, considerate, and kindly man; his face rugged and
serious, his smile bright; the master of several trades, a builder
both of boats and houses; endowed with a fine pulpit voice; endowed
besides with such a gift of eloquence that at the grave of the late
chief of Fakarava he set all the assistants weeping. I never met a
man of a mind more ecclesiastical; he loved to dispute and to
inform himself of doctrine and the history of sects; and when I
showed him the cuts in a volume of Chambers's Encyclopaedia--except
for one of an ape--reserved his whole enthusiasm for cardinals'
hats, censers, candlesticks, and cathedrals. Methought when he
looked upon the cardinal's hat a voice said low in his ear: 'Your
foot is on the ladder.'
Under the guidance of Taniera we were soon installed in what I
believe to have been the best-appointed private house in Fakarava.
It stood just beyond the church in an oblong patch of cultivation.
More than three hundred sacks of soil were imported from Tahiti for
the Residency garden; and this must shortly be renewed, for the
earth blows away, sinks in crevices of the coral, and is sought for
at last in vain. I know not how much earth had gone to the garden
of my villa; some at least, for an alley of prosperous bananas ran
to the gate, and over the rest of the enclosure, which was covered
with the usual clinker-like fragments of smashed coral, not only
coco-palms and mikis but also fig-trees flourished, all of a
delicious greenness. Of course there was no blade of grass. In
front a picket fence divided us from the white road, the palm-
fringed margin of the lagoon, and the lagoon itself, reflecting
clouds by day and stars by night. At the back, a bulwark of
uncemented coral enclosed us from the narrow belt of bush and the
nigh ocean beach where the seas thundered, the roar and wash of
them still humming in the chambers of the house.
This itself was of one story, verandahed front and back. It
contained three rooms, three sewing-machines, three sea-chests,
chairs, tables, a pair of beds, a cradle, a double-barrelled gun, a
pair of enlarged coloured photographs, a pair of coloured prints
after Wilkie and Mulready, and a French lithograph with the legend:
'Le brigade du General Lepasset brulant son drapeau devant Metz.'
Under the stilts of the house a stove was rusting, till we drew it
forth and put it in commission. Not far off was the burrow in the
coral whence we supplied ourselves with brackish water. There was
live stock, besides, on the estate--cocks and hens and a brace of
ill-regulated cats, whom Taniera came every morning with the sun to
feed on grated cocoa-nut. His voice was our regular reveille,
ringing pleasantly about the garden: 'Pooty--pooty--poo--poo--
poo!'
Far as we were from the public offices, the nearness of the chapel
made our situation what is called eligible in advertisements, and
gave us a side look on some native life. Every morning, as soon as
he had fed the fowls, Taniera set the bell agoing in the small
belfry; and the faithful, who were not very numerous, gathered to
prayers. I was once present: it was the Lord's day, and seven
females and eight males composed the congregation. A woman played
precentor, starting with a longish note; the catechist joined in
upon the second bar; and then the faithful in a body. Some had
printed hymn-books which they followed; some of the rest filled up
with 'eh--eh--eh,' the Paumotuan tol-de-rol. After the hymn, we
had an antiphonal prayer or two; and then Taniera rose from the
front bench, where he had been sitting in his catechist's robes,
passed within the altar-rails, opened his Tahitian Bible, and began
to preach from notes. I understood one word--the name of God; but
the preacher managed his voice with taste, used rare and expressive
gestures, and made a strong impression of sincerity. The plain
service, the vernacular Bible, the hymn-tunes mostly on an English
pattern--'God save the Queen,' I was informed, a special
favourite,--all, save some paper flowers upon the altar, seemed not
merely but austerely Protestant. It is thus the Catholics have met
their low island proselytes half-way.
Taniera had the keys of our house; it was with him I made my
bargain, if that could be called a bargain in which all was
remitted to my generosity; it was he who fed the cats and poultry,
he who came to call and pick a meal with us like an acknowledged
friend; and we long fondly supposed he was our landlord. This
belief was not to bear the test of experience; and, as my chapter
has to relate, no certainty succeeded it.
We passed some days of airless quiet and great heat; shell-
gatherers were warned from the ocean beach, where sunstroke waited
them from ten till four; the highest palm hung motionless, there
was no voice audible but that of the sea on the far side. At last,
about four of a certain afternoon, long cat's-paws flawed the face
of the lagoon; and presently in the tree-tops there awoke the
grateful bustle of the trades, and all the houses and alleys of the
island were fanned out. To more than one enchanted ship, that had
lain long becalmed in view of the green shore, the wind brought
deliverance; and by daylight on the morrow a schooner and two
cutters lay moored in the port of Rotoava. Not only in the outer
sea, but in the lagoon itself, a certain traffic woke with the
reviving breeze; and among the rest one Francois, a half-blood, set
sail with the first light in his own half-decked cutter. He had
held before a court appointment; being, I believe, the Residency
sweeper-out. Trouble arising with the unpopular Vice-Resident, he
had thrown his honours down, and fled to the far parts of the atoll
to plant cabbages--or at least coco-palms. Thence he was now
driven by such need as even a Cincinnatus must acknowledge, and
fared for the capital city, the seat of his late functions, to
exchange half a ton of copra for necessary flour. And here, for a
while, the story leaves to tell of his voyaging.
It must tell, instead, of our house, where, toward seven at night,
the catechist came suddenly in with his pleased air of being
welcome; armed besides with a considerable bunch of keys. These he
proceeded to try on the sea-chests, drawing each in turn from its
place against the wall. Heads of strangers appeared in the doorway
and volunteered suggestions. All in vain. Either they were the
wrong keys or the wrong boxes, or the wrong man was trying them.
For a little Taniera fumed and fretted; then had recourse to the
more summary method of the hatchet; one of the chests was broken
open, and an armful of clothing, male and female, baled out and
handed to the strangers on the verandah.
These were Francois, his wife, and their child. About eight a.m.,
in the midst of the lagoon, their cutter had capsized in jibbing.
They got her righted, and though she was still full of water put
the child on board. The mainsail had been carried away, but the
jib still drew her sluggishly along, and Francois and the woman
swam astern and worked the rudder with their hands. The cold was
cruel; the fatigue, as time went on, became excessive; and in that
preserve of sharks, fear hunted them. Again and again, Francois,
the half-breed, would have desisted and gone down; but the woman,
whole blood of an amphibious race, still supported him with
cheerful words. I am reminded of a woman of Hawaii who swam with
her husband, I dare not say how many miles, in a high sea, and came
ashore at last with his dead body in her arms. It was about five
in the evening, after nine hours' swimming, that Francois and his
wife reached land at Rotoava. The gallant fight was won, and
instantly the more childish side of native character appears. They
had supped, and told and retold their story, dripping as they came;
the flesh of the woman, whom Mrs. Stevenson helped to shift, was
cold as stone; and Francois, having changed to a dry cotton shirt
and trousers, passed the remainder of the evening on my floor and
between open doorways, in a thorough draught. Yet Francois, the
son of a French father, speaks excellent French himself and seems
intelligent.
It was our first idea that the catechist, true to his evangelical
vocation, was clothing the naked from his superfluity. Then it
came out that Francois was but dealing with his own. The clothes
were his, so was the chest, so was the house. Francois was in fact
the landlord. Yet you observe he had hung back on the verandah
while Taniera tried his 'prentice hand upon the locks: and even
now, when his true character appeared, the only use he made of the
estate was to leave the clothes of his family drying on the fence.
Taniera was still the friend of the house, still fed the poultry,
still came about us on his daily visits, Francois, during the
remainder of his stay, holding bashfully aloof. And there was
stranger matter. Since Francois had lost the whole load of his
cutter, the half ton of copra, an axe, bowls, knives, and clothes--
since he had in a manner to begin the world again, and his
necessary flour was not yet bought or paid for--I proposed to
advance him what he needed on the rent. To my enduring amazement
he refused, and the reason he gave--if that can be called a reason
which but darkens counsel--was that Taniera was his friend. His
friend, you observe; not his creditor. I inquired into that, and
was assured that Taniera, an exile in a strange isle, might
possibly be in debt himself, but certainly was no man's creditor.
Very early one morning we were awakened by a bustling presence in
the yard, and found our camp had been surprised by a tall, lean old
native lady, dressed in what were obviously widow's weeds. You
could see at a glance she was a notable woman, a housewife, sternly
practical, alive with energy, and with fine possibilities of
temper. Indeed, there was nothing native about her but the skin;
and the type abounds, and is everywhere respected, nearer home. It
did us good to see her scour the grounds, examining the plants and
chickens; watering, feeding, trimming them; taking angry, purpose-
like possession. When she neared the house our sympathy abated;
when she came to the broken chest I wished I were elsewhere. We
had scarce a word in common; but her whole lean body spoke for her
with indignant eloquence. 'My chest!' it cried, with a stress on
the possessive. 'My chest--broken open! This is a fine state of
things!' I hastened to lay the blame where it belonged--on
Francois and his wife--and found I had made things worse instead of
better. She repeated the names at first with incredulity, then
with despair. A while she seemed stunned, next fell to
disembowelling the box, piling the goods on the floor, and visibly
computing the extent of Francois's ravages; and presently after she
was observed in high speech with Taniera, who seemed to hang an ear
like one reproved.
Here, then, by all known marks, should be my land-lady at last;
here was every character of the proprietor fully developed. Should
I not approach her on the still depending question of my rent? I
carried the point to an adviser. 'Nonsense!' he cried. 'That's
the old woman, the mother. It doesn't belong to her. I believe
that's the man the house belongs to,' and he pointed to one of the
coloured photographs on the wall. On this I gave up all desire of
understanding; and when the time came for me to leave, in the
judgment-hall of the archipelago, and with the awful countenance of
the acting Governor, I duly paid my rent to Taniera. He was
satisfied, and so was I. But what had he to do with it? Mr.
Donat, acting magistrate and a man of kindred blood, could throw no
light upon the mystery; a plain private person, with a taste for
letters, cannot be expected to do more.
