I several times met with very aged men, who
from this cause had never passed the confines of their native vale,
some of them having never even ascended midway up the mountains in
the whole course of their lives, and who, accordingly had little
idea of the appearance of any other part of the island, the whole
of which is not perhaps more than sixty miles in circuit. The
little space in which some of these clans pass away their days
would seem almost incredible.
The glen of the Tior will furnish a curious illustration of
this.
The inhabited part is not more than four miles in length, and
varies in breadth from half a mile to less than a quarter. The
rocky vine-clad cliffs on one side tower almost perpendicularly
from their base to the height of at least fifteen hundred feet;
while across the vale—in striking contrast to the scenery
opposite—grass-grown elevations rise one above another in blooming
terraces. Hemmed in by these stupendous barriers, the valley would
be altogether shut out from the rest of the world, were it not that
it is accessible from the sea at one end, and by a narrow defile at
the other.
The impression produced upon the mind, when I first visited this
beautiful glen, will never be obliterated.
I had come from Nukuheva by water in the ship's boat, and when
we entered the bay of Tior it was high noon. The heat had been
intense, as we had been floating upon the long smooth swell of the
ocean, for there was but little wind. The sun's rays had expended
all their fury upon us; and to add to our discomfort, we had
omitted to supply ourselves with water previous to starting. What
with heat and thirst together, I became so impatient to get ashore,
that when at last we glided towards it, I stood up in the bow of
the boat ready for a spring. As she shot two-thirds of her length
high upon the beach, propelled by three or four strong strokes of
the oars, I leaped among a parcel of juvenile savages, who stood
prepared to give us a kind reception; and with them at my heels,
yelling like so many imps, I rushed forward across the open ground
in the vicinity of the sea, and plunged, diver fashion, into the
recesses of the first grove that offered.
What a delightful sensation did I experience! I felt as if
floating in some new element, while all sort of gurgling,
trickling, liquid sounds fell upon my ear. People may say what they
will about the refreshing influences of a coldwater bath, but
commend me when in a perspiration to the shade baths of Tior,
beneath the cocoanut trees, and amidst the cool delightful
atmosphere which surrounds them.
How shall I describe the scenery that met my eye, as I looked
out from this verdant recess! The narrow valley, with its steep and
close adjoining sides draperied with vines, and arched overhead
with a fret-work of interlacing boughs, nearly hidden from view by
masses of leafy verdure, seemed from where I stood like an immense
arbour disclosing its vista to the eye, whilst as I advanced it
insensibly widened into the loveliest vale eye ever beheld.
It so happened that the very day I was in Tior the French
admiral, attended by all the boats of his squadron, came down in
state from Nukuheva to take formal possession of the place. He
remained in the valley about two hours, during which time he had a
ceremonious interview with the king. The patriarch-sovereign of
Tior was a man very far advanced in years; but though age had bowed
his form and rendered him almost decrepid, his gigantic frame
retained its original magnitude and grandeur of appearance.
He advanced slowly and with evident pain, assisting his
tottering steps with the heavy warspear he held in his hand, and
attended by a group of grey-bearded chiefs, on one of whom he
occasionally leaned for support. The admiral came forward with head
uncovered and extended hand, while the old king saluted him by a
stately flourish of his weapon. The next moment they stood side by
side, these two extremes of the social scale,—the polished,
splendid Frenchman, and the poor tattooed savage. They were both
tall and noble-looking men; but in other respects how strikingly
contrasted! Du Petit Thouars exhibited upon his person all the
paraphernalia of his naval rank. He wore a richly decorated
admiral's frock-coat, a laced chapeau bras, and upon his breast
were a variety of ribbons and orders; while the simple islander,
with the exception of a slight cincture about his loins, appeared
in all the nakedness of nature.
At what an immeasurable distance, thought I, are these two
beings removed from each other. In the one is shown the result of
long centuries of progressive Civilization and refinement, which
have gradually converted the mere creature into the semblance of
all that is elevated and grand; while the other, after the lapse of
the same period, has not advanced one step in the career of
improvement, 'Yet, after all,' quoth I to myself, 'insensible as he
is to a thousand wants, and removed from harassing cares, may not
the savage be the happier man of the two?' Such were the thoughts
that arose in my mind as I gazed upon the novel spectacle before
me. In truth it was an impressive one, and little likely to be
effaced. I can recall even now with vivid distinctness every
feature of the scene. The umbrageous shades where the interview
took place—the glorious tropical vegetation around—the picturesque
grouping of the mingled throng of soldiery and natives—and even the
golden-hued bunch of bananas that I held in my hand at the time,
and of which I occasionally partook while making the aforesaid
philosophical reflections.
Chapter 5
THOUGHTS PREVIOUS TO ATTEMPTING AN ESCAPE—TOBY, A FELLOW SAILOR,
AGREES TO SHARE THE ADVENTURE—LAST NIGHT ABOARD THE SHIP
HAVING fully resolved to leave the vessel clandestinely, and
having acquired all the knowledge concerning the bay that I could
obtain under the circumstances in which I was placed, I now
deliberately turned over in my mind every plan to escape that
suggested itself, being determined to act with all possible
prudence in an attempt where failure would be attended with so many
disagreeable consequences. The idea of being taken and brought back
ignominiously to the ship was so inexpressibly repulsive to me,
that I was determined by no hasty and imprudent measures to render
such an event probable.
I knew that our worthy captain, who felt, such a paternal
solicitude for the welfare of his crew, would not willingly consent
that one of his best hands should encounter the perils of a sojourn
among the natives of a barbarous island; and I was certain that in
the event of my disappearance, his fatherly anxiety would prompt
him to offer, by way of a reward, yard upon yard of gaily printed
calico for my apprehension. He might even have appreciated my
services at the value of a musket, in which case I felt perfectly
certain that the whole population of the bay would be immediately
upon my track, incited by the prospect of so magnificent a
bounty.
Having ascertained the fact before alluded to, that the
islanders,—from motives of precaution, dwelt altogether in the
depths of the valleys, and avoided wandering about the more
elevated portions of the shore, unless bound on some expedition of
war or plunder, I concluded that if I could effect unperceived a
passage to the mountain, I might easily remain among them,
supporting myself by such fruits as came in my way until the
sailing of the ship, an event of which I could not fail to be
immediately apprised, as from my lofty position I should command a
view of the entire harbour.
The idea pleased me greatly. It seemed to combine a great deal
of practicability with no inconsiderable enjoyment in a quiet way;
for how delightful it would be to look down upon the detested old
vessel from the height of some thousand feet, and contrast the
verdant scenery about me with the recollection of her narrow decks
and gloomy forecastle! Why, it was really refreshing even to think
of it; and so I straightway fell to picturing myself seated beneath
a cocoanut tree on the brow of the mountain, with a cluster of
plantains within easy reach, criticizing her nautical evolutions as
she was working her way out of the harbour.
To be sure there was one rather unpleasant drawback to these
agreeable anticipations—the possibility of falling in with a
foraging party of these same bloody-minded Typees, whose appetites,
edged perhaps by the air of so elevated a region, might prompt them
to devour one. This, I must confess, was a most disagreeable view
of the matter.
Just to think of a party of these unnatural gourmands taking it
into their heads to make a convivial meal of a poor devil, who
would have no means of escape or defence: however, there was no
help for it. I was willing to encounter some risks in order to
accomplish my object, and counted much upon my ability to elude
these prowling cannibals amongst the many coverts which the
mountains afforded. Besides, the chances were ten to one in my
favour that they would none of them quit their own fastnesses.
I had determined not to communicate my design of withdrawing
from the vessel to any of my shipmates, and least of all to solicit
any one to accompany me in my flight. But it so happened one night,
that being upon deck, revolving over in my mind various plans of
escape, I perceived one of the ship's company leaning over the
bulwarks, apparently plunged in a profound reverie. He was a young
fellow about my own age, for whom I had all along entertained a
great regard; and Toby, such was the name by which he went among
us, for his real name he would never tell us, was every way worthy
of it. He was active, ready and obliging, of dauntless courage, and
singularly open and fearless in the expression of his feelings. I
had on more than one occasion got him out of scrapes into which
this had led him; and I know not whether it was from this cause, or
a certain congeniality of sentiment between us, that he had always
shown a partiality for my society. We had battled out many a long
watch together, beguiling the weary hours with chat, song, and
story, mingled with a good many imprecations upon the hard destiny
it seemed our common fortune to encounter.
Toby, like myself, had evidently moved in a different sphere of
life, and his conversation at times betrayed this, although he was
anxious to conceal it.
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