OF THE SOUTH SEAS 339 



giant pine forests of Michigan. The fleecy surf 

 gleamed and shimmered in the sun as it rolled over the 

 coral dam, and when the sea was strong, there was an- 

 other sound, the lapping of the waves on the sand a hun- 

 dred j^ards from me. A little wharf had been built there 

 by the Government, and a schooner arrived and de- 

 parted every few days, with people and produce. 



I ate alone mostly, at a table on the veranda in front 

 of my chamber, waited on by Tatini, a very lovely and 

 shy maiden of fourteen years. To her I talked Tahi- 

 tian, as with all the family, in an effort to perfect my- 

 self in that tongue. 



I was happy that I had pulled up anchor in Papeete, 

 and as contrast is, after all, comparative, I felt like a 

 New-Yorker who finds himself in Arcadia, though I 

 had thought Papeete, on first sight, the garden of Allah. 

 In Mataiea I realized the wonder of the Polynesian peo- 

 ple, and found my months with the whites of the city a 

 fit background for study of and ardent delight in the 

 brown islanders I was to know so well. 



