At last, a tall old gentleman,
by name Marharvai, with a bald head and white beard, took us each by
the hand, and led us into his dwelling. Once inside, Marharvai,
pointing about with his staff, was so obsequious in assuring us that
his house was ours that Long Ghost suggested he might as well hand
over the deed.
It was drawing near noon; so after a light lunch of roasted
breadfruit, a few whiffs of a pipe, and some lively chatting, our
host admonished the company to lie down, and take the everlasting
siesta. We complied; and had a social nap all round.
CHAPTER LXVIII.
A DINNER-PARTY IN IMEEO
IT WAS just in the middle of the merry, mellow afternoon that they
ushered us to dinner, underneath a green shelter of palm boughs; open
all round, and so low at the eaves that we stooped to enter.
Within, the ground was strewn over with aromatic ferns - called
"nahee" - freshly gathered; which, stirred underfoot, diffused the
sweetest odour. On one side was a row of yellow mats, inwrought with
fibres of bark stained a bright red. Here, seated after the fashion
of the Turk, we looked out, over a verdant bank, upon the mild, blue,
endless Pacific. So far round had we skirted the island that the view
of Tahiti was now intercepted.
Upon the ferns before us were laid several layers of broad, thick
"pooroo" leaves; lapping over, one upon the other. And upon these
were placed, side by side, newly-plucked banana leaves, at least two
yards in length, and very wide; the stalks were withdrawn so as to
make them lie flat. This green cloth was set out and garnished in the
manner following: -
First, a number of "pooroo" leaves, by way of plates, were ranged
along on one side; and by each was a rustic nut-bowl, half-filled
with sea-water, and a Tahitian roll, or small bread-fruit, roasted
brown. An immense flat calabash, placed in the centre, was heaped up
with numberless small packages of moist, steaming leaves: in each was
a small fish, baked in the earth, and done to a turn. This pyramid of
a dish was flanked on either side by an ornamental calabash. One was
brimming with the golden-hued "poee," or pudding, made from the red
plantain of the mountains: the other was stacked up with cakes of the
Indian turnip, previously macerated in a mortar, kneaded with the
milk of the cocoa-nut, and then baked. In the spaces between the
three dishes were piled young cocoa-nuts, stripped of their husks.
Their eyes had been opened and enlarged; so that each was a
ready-charged goblet.
There was a sort of side-cloth in one corner, upon which, in bright,
buff jackets, lay the fattest of bananas; "avees," red-ripe:
