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The National Geographic Magazine 



the drone of some great bagpipe. The 

 natives gave names to each of us, mine 

 being "A-to-hi," which means "qui a 

 les lauriers. ' ' 



The place where we breakfasted (at 

 Papenoo) was a semi-European house 

 belonging to the chief of the district. It 

 was a large one-story shed-like building. 

 We left at about 2 o'clock, and traversed 

 a still more lovely embowered road, with 

 the sea dashing on the rocks within a 

 rod much of the way. The land and 

 the rocks were covered with verdure, 

 this green meeting the open ocean with- 

 out any intervening beach. We forded 

 stream after stream, until my jaded little 

 rats of horses gave out in the middle of 

 each and had to be helped on. 



I had taken the lead, so that the pro- 

 cession could not get on without help- 

 ing me forward to clear its own way. 

 The ride was prolonged until the antici- 

 pated two hours became four; the fords 

 grew worse and worse, and I, for one, 

 was well tired when, just after six 

 o'clock, and in the twilight, we arrived 

 at another chief's, who had a large 

 shed of three rooms, with the floor cov- 

 ered with beds. Most of the houses, 

 however, were "Robinson Crusoe" 

 huts, neatly built of upright bamboo. 

 The natives are wilder than those near 

 Papeete. The men are often naked, ex- 

 cept for a loin-cloak of gaudy calico, no 

 dress of native cloth ttappa) being, as a 

 rule, worn by either sex. 



We supped much as we breakfasted, 

 except that I was instructed in the 

 proper way of eating ' ' Poee, ' ' the cling- 

 ing plastic mess of starch-like consist- 

 ency which so clung to Melville's fingers 

 in Typee. The secret is simple — imitate 

 the native, who puts his fingers in water 

 first, then in the " Poee," and then 

 sucks them dry. I chose to sleep out 

 of doors on a mattress in the wagon, 

 amid the cocoa palms, the passing foims 

 of the natives, and the lights from the 

 cooking fires. The novelty of the situa- 

 tion kept me awake a good deal. The 



nearby surf sounded in my ears all night, 

 and the sea breeze was so cool that I 

 drew my rubber overcoat over the cov- 

 erlet for warmth. 



Jiily ir. — I awoke with the noise of 

 the natives in the early morning twi- 

 light, and went down to the beach. 

 This was covered with rough stones and 

 shell heaps, which made walking diffi- 

 cult; but I got into the water and let 

 the Pacific roll over me, and going back 

 just as the sun arose, ate one of the 

 oranges from the trees about me like a 

 simple savage ! 



After breakfast we moved on, over 

 roads and through rivers which grew 

 increasingly difficult for about ten miles. 

 This is the wild part of the island. 

 The road grew in places too narrow to 

 let a wagon pass quite in safety between 

 the cliff on the right and the sea, and 

 finally we came to a river which was 

 five feet deep opposite the place where 

 we entered it. 



Turning down the river we drove in 

 it to a ford where the water only just 

 covered the floor of the wagon, and then 

 turned up the stream again to where 

 the landing was to be made, and here 

 was the tug, to get over the fallen trees 

 w^hich encumbered the stream, and up 

 the steep bank. The horses struggled, 

 the natives filled the water with their 

 heads and brown bodies, tugging at their 

 horses' heads and lifting the wheels ; 

 some of the wagons filled, and some of 

 the ladies were carried ashore on the 

 backs of the islanders. We all got safe 

 ashore, but it was lively while it lasted. 



When we got to ' ' the neck ' ' the 

 main party went on and I turned back 

 to go down the civilized side of the 

 island, over bridges and a good road 

 to Tati's.* I got to Chief Tati Sal- 

 mon's house about 2.30, where I was 



* Chief Tati Salmon, the head of one of the 

 oldest families and most considerable chiefs of 

 the island, is so public a character that I need 

 hardly apologize for mentioning his name and 

 his hospitality here. 



