OF THE SOUTH SEAS 117 



les cochons Anglais et les heros les Frangais et les 

 Tahitiens." 



It was a battle that would have rejoiced the heart of 

 Don Quixote, and that redoubtable knight had his proto- 

 type here in the van of it, the second in command of the 

 police of Papeete, M. Lontane, the mimic of the Tiare 

 celebration. 



The Noa-Noas amateur crew of wretched beach- 

 combers, farm laborers, and impossible firemen, stokers, 

 and stewards, a pitiable set, were about the waterfront 

 all day, dirty, dressed in hot woolen clothes, bedraggled 

 and as drunk as their money would allow. The ship was 

 down to leave at three-thirty o'clock, but it was four 

 when the last bag of copra was aboard. There were 

 few passengers, and those who booked here were dis- 

 mayed at the condition of the passageways, the cabins, 

 and the decks. The crowd of "scabs," untrained white 

 sailors, and coal passers was supplemented by Raratonga 

 natives, lounging about the gangway and sitting on the 

 rails. On the wharf hundreds of people had gathered 

 as usual to see the liner off. Lovaina was there in a 

 pink lace dress, seated in her carriage, with Vava at the 

 horse's head. Prince Hinoe had gathered about him a 

 group of pretty girls, to whom he was promising a feast 

 in the country. All the tourists, the loafers, the mer- 

 chants, and the schooner crews were there, too, and the 

 iron-roofed shed in which it is forbidden to smoke was 

 filled with them. The Noa-Noa blew and blew her 

 whistle, but still she did not go. The lines to the wharf 

 were loosened, the captain was on the bridge, the last 

 farewells were being called and waved, but there was 

 delay. Word was spread that some of the crew were 



