The little parties on foot were frequently encountered; and,
recalling, as they did, so many pleasant recollections of home and
the ladies, I really longed for a dress coat and beaver that I might
step up and pay my respects. But, situated as I was, this was out of
the question. On one occasion, however, I received a kind, inquisitive
glance from a matron in gingham. Sweet lady! I have not forgotten
her: her gown was a plaid.
But a glance, like hers, was not always bestowed.
One evening, passing the verandah of a missionary's dwelling, the
dame, his wife, and a pretty, blonde young girl, with ringlets, were
sitting there, enjoying the sea-breeze, then coming in, all cool and
refreshing, from the spray of the reef. As I approached, the old lady
peered hard at me; and her very cap seemed to convey a prim rebuke.
The blue, English eyes, by her side, were also bent on me. But, oh
Heavens! what a glance to receive from such a beautiful creature! As
for the mob cap, not a fig did I care for it; but, to be taken for
anything but a cavalier, by the ringleted one, was absolutely
unendurable.
I resolved on a courteous salute, to show my good-breeding, if nothing
more. But, happening to wear a sort of turban - hereafter to be
particularly alluded to - there was no taking it off and putting it on
again with anything like dignity. At any rate, then, here goes a how.
But, another difficulty presented itself; my loose frock was so
voluminous that I doubted whether any spinal curvature would be
perceptible.
"Good evening, ladies," exclaimed I, at last, advancing winningly; "a
delightful air from the sea, ladies."
Hysterics and hartshorn! who would have thought it? The young lady
screamed, and the old one came near fainting. As for myself, I
retreated in double-quick time; and scarcely drew breath until safely
housed in the Calabooza.
CHAPTER XLIV.
CATHEDRAL OF PAPOAR - THE CHURCH OF THE COCOA-NUTS
ON Sundays I always attended the principal native church, on the
outskirts of the village of Papeetee, and not far from the Calabooza
Beretanee. It was esteemed the best specimen of architecture in
Tahiti.
Of late, they have built their places of worship with more reference
to durability than formerly. At one time, there were no less than
thirty-six on the island - mere barns, tied together with thongs,
which went to destruction in a very few years.
One, built many years ago in this style, was a most remarkable
structure. It was erected by Pomaree II., who, on this occasion,
showed all the zeal of a royal proselyte. The building was over seven
hundred feet in length, and of a proportionate width; the vast
ridge-pole was at intervals supported by a row of thirty-six
cylindrical trunks of the bread-fruit tree; and, all round, the
wall-plates rested on shafts of the palm. The roof - steeply inclining
to within a man's height of the ground - was thatched with leaves, and
the sides of the edifice were open. Thus spacious was the Royal
Mission Chapel of Papoar.
At its dedication, three distinct sermons were, from different
pulpits, preached to an immense concourse gathered from all parts of
the island.
As the chapel was built by the king's command, nearly as great a
multitude was employed in its construction as swarmed over the
scaffolding of the great temple of the Jews. Much less time, however,
was expended. In less than three weeks from planting the first post,
the last tier of palmetto-leaves drooped from the eaves, and the work
was done.
Apportioned to the several chiefs and their dependants, the labour,
though immense, was greatly facilitated by everyone's bringing his
post, or his rafter, or his pole strung with thatching, ready for
instant use. The materials thus prepared being afterwards secured
together by thongs, there was literally "neither hammer, nor axe, nor
any tool of iron heard in the house while it was building."
But the most singular circumstance connected with this South Sea
cathedral remains to be related. As well for the beauty as the
advantages of such a site, the islanders love to dwell near the
mountain streams; and so, a considerable brook, after descending from
the hills and watering the valley, was bridged over in three places,
and swept clean through the chapel.
Flowing waters! what an accompaniment to the songs of the sanctuary;
mingling with them the praises and thanksgivings of the green
solitudes inland.
But the chapel of the Polynesian Solomon has long since been deserted.
Its thousand rafters of habiscus have decayed, and fallen to the
ground; and now, the stream murmurs over them in its bed.
The present metropolitan church of Tahiti is very unlike the one just
described. It is of moderate dimensions, boarded over, and painted
white. It is furnished also with blinds, but no sashes; indeed, were
it not for the rustic thatch, it would remind one of a plain chapel
at home.
The woodwork was all done by foreign carpenters, of whom there are
always several about Papeetee.
Within, its aspect is unique, and cannot fail to interest a stranger.
The rafters overhead are bound round with fine matting of variegated
dyes; and all along the ridge-pole these trappings hang pendent, in
alternate bunches of tassels and deep fringes of stained grass. The
floor is composed of rude planks. Regular aisles run between ranges
of native settees, bottomed with crossed braids of the cocoa-nut
fibre, and furnished with backs.
But the pulpit, made of a dark, lustrous wood, and standing at one
end, is by far the most striking object.
