I bought the marbles—the whole box of them. They cost fifty francs, about four dollars American, as the exchange was then, but I considered the investment a good one. I knew that, no matter where I might be, to lift the lid of my box was to make an immediate20 and inexpensive journey back to one of the pleasantest periods of boyhood. Oro was awaiting me at the quay21, and carried my small sea chest on board with an air of spurious fatigue22. I gave him my purchase and told him to stow it away for me in the cabin, which he did with such care that I did not find it again until we were within view of Rutiaro. The Caleb S. Winship was homeward bound then, from Tanao, where we had left Crichton, the English planter. Rutiaro lying on our course, it was decided23 to put in there in the hope that we might be able to replace our lost deck cargo24 of copra, washed overboard in a squall a few days previously25.
Neither Findlay's South Pacific Directory nor the 109 British Admiralty Sailing Directions had much to say about the atoll. Both agreed that the lagoon26 is nine miles long by five broad, and that on June 29, 1887, the French surveying vessel27, St. étienne, found the tide running through a narrow pass at two knots per hour, the flood as swift as the ebb28. It was further stated that in 1889 Her Majesty29's ship, Prince Edward, anchored in eight fathoms30, three hundred yards from shore in front of the village, which is situated31 on the most westerly island; and that a few pigs and chickens were purchased at a nominal32 price from the inhabitants. With this information I had to be content in so far as my reading was concerned. There was nothing of a later date in either volume, and the impression I had was that the atoll, having been charted and briefly33 described, had remained unvisited, almost forgotten, for a period of thirty-one years.
This, of course, was not the case. Tinned beef and kerosene34 oil had followed the flag there as elsewhere in the world. Religion, in fact, had preceded it, leaving a broad wake of Bibles and black mother-hubbards still in evidence among the older generation. But skippers of small trading schooners35 are rarely correspondents of the hydrographic associations, and the "reports from the field" of itinerant36 missionaries37 are buried in the dusty files of the religious journals, so that Rutiaro is as little known to the world at large as it has always been. Findlay's general remarks about it were confined to a single sentence, "A lonely atoll, numbering a population of between seventy-five and one hundred inhabitants." It certainly looked lonely enough on the chart, far out on the westerly fringe of the archipelago, more than six hundred miles from the 110 nearest steamship38 route, and that one infrequently traveled. I sought further information from Tino-a-Tino, the supercargo, a three-quarters American despite his Tahitian name. He had been trading in the Low Islands for twenty years, and during that time had created a voluminous literature with reference to their inhabitants. But it was all of an occupational nature and confined to the ledgers40 of the Inter-Island Trading Company. I found him at his usual task in the cabin, where he gave me some specimen41 compositions for criticism.
"I wish you'd look them over," he said. "These copra bugs42 drive a man wild. They get in your eyes, in your liquor, in your mouth—Lord! What a life!"
The cabin was filled with unsacked copra to the level of the upper tier of bunks43. One had to crawl in on hands and knees. The copra bugs were something of a nuisance, and the smell and heat oppressive. I had traveled on more comfortable vessels44, with tennis courts on the boat decks and Roman swimming baths below—but they didn't touch at Rutiaro.
I went through his accounts, verifying long lists of items, such as:
To Terii Tuahu, Dr.,
1 dozen beacon45 lanterns at 480 frs. Frs. 480
To Ohiti Poene, Dr.,
12 sacks Lily-Dust flour at 300 frs. Frs. 3600
To Low Hung Chin, Dr.,
1 gross Night-King flash lamps at 3600 frs. Frs. 3600
The work of checking up finished, we went out for a breath of air. The atoll lay abeam46 and still far distant; a faint bluish haze47 lifted a bare eighth of an inch above 111 the circle of the horizon. Behind us, rain fell in a straight wall of water from a single black cloud which cast a deep shadow over the path we had come. Elsewhere the sky was clear and the sea the incredible blue of the tropics. Tino broke a long silence.
"Look here," he said. "What is it that interests you in these islands? I've never known anyone to visit them for pleasure before. Is it the women, or what?"
Under pressure, I admitted that Nature seemed to have spent her best effort among the Paumotuans in fashioning the men.
"You're right," said Tino. "The women are healthy enough, of course, but they don't set your heart beating a hundred to the minute. They have fine hands and white teeth, and you won't find such black hair in all the world as you find in these atolls. But that's the size of it. You can't praise them any further for looks. Maybe you haven't noticed their ears, because they always cover them up with their hair; but they're large, and their feet and ankles—tough as sole leather and all scarred over with coral cuts. That is well enough for the men, but with the women it's different. Makes you lose your enthusiasm, don't it?"
I had seen a good many striking exceptions in our wanderings, but I agreed that, in the main, what he said was true.
"Well, if it isn't the women, what else is there to be interested in? Not the islands themselves? Lord! When you've seen one you've seen the lot. Living on one of them is like living aboard ship. Not room to stretch your legs. They're solid enough, and they 112 don't sink; but in a hurricane I'd a heap rather take my chances out to sea with the Winship than to be lashed49 to the stoutest50 coconut51 tree in the whole group. Now you take Rutiaro. It was washed over seventeen years ago and all but twenty of the people killed. They are back to seventy-five now, but wait till the next bad blow down that way. They'll drown like rats just as they did before.
"Well, we won't have to stop long," he added, grouchily52. "I'll take what copra they have and get out. It's a God-forsaken hole. They only make about twenty-five tons a year. The island could produce three times that amount under decent management. They're a lazy, independent lot, at Rutiaro. You can't get 'em to stir themselves."
I asked him what they had to gain by stirring themselves.
"Gain?" he said. "They have everything to gain. There are only two frame houses on the place. The rest of them are miserable53 little shelters of coconut thatch54. I haven't sold them enough corrugated55 iron in ten years to cover this cockpit. You remember Takaroa and Niau and Fakahina? Well, there's my idea of islands. Nice European furniture—iron beds, center tables, phonographs, bicycles—"
A further catalogue of the comforts and conveniences of civilization which the inhabitants of Rutiaro might have and didn't convinced me that this was the atoll I had been looking for, and I regretted that our stay there was to be so brief. I did not begrudge7 the inhabitants of richer atolls their phonographs and bicycles. They got an incredible amount of amusement out of them; listened with delight to the strange music, and spent entire evenings taking turns with the bicycles, riding them back and forth56 from the lagoon 113 beach to the ocean shore. But the frame houses were blots57 on the landscape, crude, barnlike structures, most of them, which offend the eye like factory chimneys in a green valley. Rutiaro had none of these things and, having no interest in it from the commercial point of view, I awaited impatiently our arrival there.
At ten o'clock we were three miles to windward of the village island. It lay at the narrower end of the lagoon, the inner shore line curving around a broad indentation where the village was. The land narrowed in one direction to a ledge39 of reef. At the farther end there was a small motu not more than three hundred yards in length by one hundred broad, separated from the main island by a strip of shallow water. Seen from aloft, the two islands resembled, roughly, in outline, an old-fashioned, high-pooped vessel with a small boat in tow. I could see the whole of the atoll from the mainmast crosstrees, the lagoon, shimmering58 into green over the shoals, darkening to an intense blue over unlit valleys of ocean floor; a solitude59 of sunlit water, placid60 as a lake buried in the depths of inaccessible61 mountains. I followed the shore line with my glasses. Distant islands, ledges62 of barren reef, leaped forward with an effect of magic, as though our atom of a vessel, the only sail which relieved the emptiness of the sea, had been swept in an instant to within a few yards of the surf. Great combers, green and ominous63 looking in the sunlight, broke at one rapidly advancing point, toppled and fell in segments, filling the inner shallows with a smother64 of foam65. Beyond it lay the broad fringe of white, deserted66 beach, 114 the narrow forest of shrub67 and palm, the empty lagoon, a border of misty68 islands on the farther side. I had seen the same sort of a picture twenty times before, always with the same keen sense of its desolate69 beauty, its allurement70, its romantic loveliness. Tino had said, "When you've seen one you've seen them all," and an old skipper once told me that "the atolls are as much alike as the reef points on that sail." It is true. They are as monotonous72 as the sea itself and as fresh with varying interest.
The village was hidden among the trees, but I saw the French flag flying near a break in the reef which marked the landing place for small boats. Farther back, a little knot of people were gathered, some of them sitting in the full glare of the sun, others in the deep shade, leaning against the trees in attitudes of dreamy meditation73. Three girls were combing their hair, talking and laughing in an animated74 way. They were dressed in all their European finery, gowns of flowered muslin pulled up around their bare legs to prevent soilure. A matronly woman in a red wrapper had thrown the upper covering aside and sat, naked to the waist, nursing a baby. I put down my glasses, feeling rather ashamed of my scrutiny75, as though I had been peeping through a window at some intimate domestic scene. The island leaped into the distance; the broad circle of foam and jagged reef narrowed to a thread of white, and the Caleb S. Winship crept landward again under a light breeze, an atom of a ship on a vast and empty sea. Eight bells struck, a tinkling76 sound, deadened, scarcely audible in the wide air. I heard Tino's voice as though coming from an immense distance: "Hello, up there! Kai-kai's ready!" I said: 115 "All right! I'm coming," and was surprised at the loudness of my own shout. But I waited for a moment to indulge myself in a last reflection: "It is thirty-one years since the Prince Edward put in here. Excepting a few traders and missionaries, there isn't probably one man in one hundred thousand who has ever heard of this atoll; not one in a million who has ever seen it or ever will see it. What a piece of luck for me!" Then I saw Oro at the galley77 door with a huge platter of boiled beef and sweet potatoes. The sight of it reminded me that I was very hungry. As I climbed down to the deck I was conscious of the fact that a healthy appetite and a good digestion78 were a piece of luck, too, and that as long as one could hold it the lure71 of islands would remain, and one's love of living burn with a clear flame. Jack79, the monkey, seemed to divine my thought, to agree with it. As Oro, the food bearer, passed him, he reached down from his perch80 in the rigging, seized the largest sweet potato on the platter, and clambered out of reach. Assured of his safety, he fell to greedily, looking out wistfully toward the land.
The pass was at the farther end of the lagoon, and in order to save time in getting the work ashore81 under way, the supercargo and I, with three of the sailors, put off in the whaleboat, to land on the ocean side of the village. Half a dozen men rushed into the surf, seized and held the boat as the backwash poured down the steep incline at the edge of the reef. Among them was the chief, a man of huge frame, six feet two or three in height. Like the others who assisted at the landing, he was clad only in a pareu, but he lost none of his dignity through his nakedness. He was fifty-five 116 years old, as I afterward82 learned, and as he stood bidding us welcome I thought of the strange appearance certain of the chief men in America or France or England would make under similar circumstances, deprived of the kindly83 concealment84 of clothing. What a revelation it would be of skinniness or pudginess! What an exhibition of scrawny necks, fat stomachs, flat chests, flabby arms! To be strictly85 accurate, I had seen some fat stomachs among elderly Paumotuans, but they were exceptions, and always remarkable86 for that reason. And those who carried them had sturdy legs. They did not give one the uneasy feeling, common at home, at the sight of the great paunches of sedentary men toppling unsteadily along a strip of crimson87 carpet, from curb88 to club doorway89.
Wherever one goes in Polynesia one is reminded, by contrast, of the cost physically90 to men of our own race of our sheltered way of living. There on every hand are men well past middle life, with compact, symmetrical bodies and the natural grace of healthy children. One sees them carrying immense burdens without exertion91, swimming in the open sea for an hour or two at a time while spearing fish, loafing ashore with no greater apparent effort for yet longer periods. Sometimes, when they have it, they eat enormous quantities of food at one sitting, and at others, under necessity, as sparingly as so many dyspeptics. It would be impossible to formulate92 from their example any rules for rational living in more civilized93 communities. The daily quest for food under primitive94 conditions keeps them alert and sound of body, so that, whether they work or loaf, feast or fast, they seem always to acquire health by it. 117
There had been no boats at Rutiaro in five months and the crowd on the beach was unfeignedly glad to see us. The arrival of a schooner at that remote island was an event of great importance; the sight of new faces lighted their own with pleasure, which warmed the heart toward them at once. We had brought ashore a consignment95 of goods for Moy Ling, the Chinese storekeeper, and when the handshaking was over they gathered around it as eagerly as a group of American children at a Christmas tree. Even the village constable96 seemed unconscious of any need for a show of dignity or authority. The only badge of his office was a cigarette-card picture of President Poincaré, fastened with a safety pin to his old felt hat. He neglected his duties as a keeper of order, and was one of the most excited of Moy Ling's helpers with the cargo. He kept patting him affectionately on the back, saying, "Maitai! maitai!" which in that situation may be freely translated as, "You know me, Moy Ling!" And the old Chinaman smiled the pleasant, noncommittal smile of his countrymen the world over.
Tino's was the only sour face on the beach. He moved through the crowd, giving orders, grumbling97 and growling98 half to himself and half to me. "I told you they were a lazy lot," he said. "They've seen us making in for three hours, and what have they been doing? Loafing on the beach, waiting for us instead of getting their copra together! Moy Ling is the only one in the village who is ready to do business. Five tons all sacked for weighing. He's worth a dozen Kanakas. Well, I'll set 'em to work in quick time now. You watch me! I'm going to be loaded and out of here by six o'clock."
118 But chance, using me as an innocent accomplice99, ordered it otherwise. It was Sir Thomas Browne who said, "Those who hold that all things are governed by fortune had not erred100 had they not persisted there." He may be right, although I don't remember now where his own nonpersistence lay. But there are some things, some events, which chance or fortune—whatever one wishes to call it—governs from the outset with an amazing show of omnipotence101. Tracing them back, one becomes almost convinced of a fixed102 intent, a far-sighted, unwavering determination in its apparently103 haphazard104 functioning. It is clear to me now that, because I had been fond of playing marbles as a boy, I was to be marooned105, fifteen years later, on a fragment of land, six thousand miles from the lumber yard of S. M. Brown & Son. Tino had no more to do with that result than I did. He merely lost his temper because chance disorganized his plans for an early departure; tried to quench106 his anger in rum, and became more furious still because he was drunk. Then off he went in the Caleb S. Winship, leaving me stranded107 ashore. I can still hear his parting salutation which he roared at me though a megaphone across the starlit lagoon, "You can stay—" But this is anticipating. The story moves in a more leisurely fashion.
As I have said, my box of marbles came to light again only a few hours before we reached Rutiaro. I took them ashore with me, thinking they might amuse the children. They had a good knowledge of the technic of shooting, acquired in a two-handed game common among the atolls, which is played with bits of polished coral. But theirs had always seemed to me a tame pastime, lacking the interest of stakes to be 119 won or lost. I instructed them in the simple rules of "bull-ring" and "Tom's-dead," which they quickly mastered. Then I divided the marbles equally among them and gave them to understand that the winner held his gains, although marbles, like trade goods, might be bartered108 for. I emphasized that feature of the game because of a recollection remaining from my own marble-playing days, of the contempt in which boys were held who refused to hazard their marbles in a test of skill. They refused to play "for keeps," and the rest of us had nothing to do with them. The youngsters of Rutiaro were not of that stamp. They took their losses in good part. When I saw that I left them to themselves and went for a walk through the village. I knew—at least I thought I did—that our stay was to be brief and I wanted to make the most of it.
I followed the street bordering the lagoon, past the freshly thatched houses with their entryways wide to the sun and wind, and came at length to a small burying ground which lay in an area of green shadow far from the village. There were a dozen or more graves within the inclosure, some of them neatly109 mounded over with broken coral and white shell, others incased in a kind of sarcophagus of native cement to keep more restless spirits from wandering abroad. Most of them were unmarked. Two or three had wooden headboards, one of which was covered with a long inscription110 in Chinese. Beneath this the word "Repose111" was printed in English, as though it had some peculiar112 talismanic113 significance for the Chinaman who had placed it there. It was the grave of a predecessor114 of Moy Ling's. I fell to thinking of him as I sat there, and of all the 120 Chinamen I had met in the earlier days, lonely, isolated115 figures, most of them, without family or friends or the saving companionship of books. What was it that kept them going? What goal were they striving toward through lives which held so little of the comfort or happiness essential to the rest of humankind? Repose? A better end than that, surely. The air rang with the sound of the word, the garish116 sunlight fell pitilessly on the print of it. To most men, I believe, with the best of life still before them, there is something terrible, infamous117, in the thought of the unrelieved blackness of an endless, dreamless sleep. I turned from the contemplation of it; let my thoughts wander in a mist of dreams, of half-formed fancies which glimmered118 through consciousness like streaks120 of sunlight in a dusty attic121. These vanished at length and for a time I was as dead to thought or feeling as Moy Ling's predecessor, sleeping beside me.
I was awakened122 by some one shaking me by the shoulder. A voice said, "Haere i te pai!" ("Come down to the boat!") and a dark figure ran on before, turning from time to time to urge me to greater speed. It was almost night, although there was still light enough to see by. I remembered that Tino had told me to be at the copra sheds at five. The tide would serve for getting through the pass until eight, but I hurried, nevertheless, feeling that something unusual had happened. Rounding a point of land which cut off the view from the village and the inner lagoon, I saw the schooner, about three hundred yards off shore, slim and black against a streak119 of orange cloud to the northward123. She was moving slowly out, under power; the whaleboat was being hoisted124 over the side, and at 121 the wheel I saw the familiar silhouette125 of the supercargo.
I shouted: "Hi! Tino! Wait a minute! You're not going to leave me behind, are you?"
A moment of silence followed. Then came the answer with the odd deliberation of utterance126 which I knew meant Tahiti rum:
"You can stay there and play marbles till hell freezes over! I'm through with you!"
What had happened, as nearly as I could make out afterward, was this: my box of marbles which I had brought ashore for the amusement of the children, interested the grown-ups as well, particularly the hazard of stakes in the games I had shown them. Paumotuans have a good deal of Scotch127 acquisitiveness in their make-up. They coveted128 those marbles—they were really worth coveting—and it was not long until play became general, a family affair, the experts in one being pitted against those in another, regardless of age or sex. Tino's threats and entreaties129 had been to no purpose. All work came to an end, and the only copra which got aboard the Winship was Moy Ling's five tons, carried out by the sailors themselves. Evidently Puarei, the chief, had been one of the most enthusiastic players. He was not a man to be bulldozed or browbeaten131. He had great dignity and force of character, for all his boyish delight in simple amusements. What right had Tino to say that he should not play marbles on his own island? He gave me to understand, by means of gestures, intonation132, and a mixture of French and Paumotuan, that this was what the supercargo had done. At last, apparently, Tino had sent Oro on an unsuccessful search for me. He thought, 122 I suppose, that, having been the cause of the marble-playing mania133, I might be able and willing to check it. Balked134 there, he went on board in a fit of violent temper and had not been seen again, although his voice was heard for an hour thereafter. Of a sudden anchor was weighed and I was left, as he assured me, to play marbles with the inhabitants of Rutiaro for an impossibly long time.
Most of these details I gathered afterward. At the moment I guessed just enough of the truth not to be wholly mystified. The watery135 sputtering136 of the Winship's twenty-five horse-power engine grew faint. Then, with a ghostly gleam of her mainsail in the starlight, she was gone. I was thinking, "By Jove! I wouldn't have missed this experience for all the copra in the Cloud of Islands!" I was glad that there were still adventures of that sort to be had in a humdrum137 world. It was so absurd, so fantastically unreal as to fit nothing but reality. And the event of it was exactly what I had wanted all the time without knowing it. There was no reason why I shouldn't stop at Rutiaro. To be sure, I was shortly to have met my friend Nordhoff at Papeete, but our rendezvous was planned to be broken. We were wandering in the South Pacific as opportunity and inclination138 should direct, which, I take it, is the only way to wander.
For a few moments I was so deeply occupied with my own thoughts that I was not conscious of what was taking place around me. All the village was gathered there, watching the departing schooner. As she vanished a loud murmur139 ran through the crowd, like a sough of wind through trees—a long-drawn140-out Polynesian, "Aue!" indicative of astonishment141, indignation, 123 pity. Paumotuan sympathies are large, and I had been the victim of treachery, they thought, and was silently grieving at the prospect142 of a long exile. They gathered around, patting me on the back in their odd way, expressing their condolences as best they could, but I soon relieved their minds on that score. Then Huirai, the constable with the cigarette-card insignia, pushed his way through with the first show of authority I had seen him make.
"I been Frisco," he said, with an odd accent on the last syllable143. He had made the journey once as a stoker on one of the mail boats. Then he added, "You go to hell, me," his eyes shining with pride that he could be of service as a reminder144 of home to an exiled American. He was about to take charge of me, in view of his knowledge of English, but the chief waved him away with a gesture of authority. I was to be his guest, he said, at any rate for the present. He began his duties as host by entertaining me at dinner at Moy Ling's store. I was a little surprised that we did not go to his house for the meal until I remembered that the Chinaman had received the only consignment of exotic food left by the Winship. Puarei ordered the feast with the discrimination of a gourmet145 and the generosity146 of a sailor on shore leave for the first time in months. We had smoked herring for hors-d'?uvre, followed by soup, curried147 chicken and rice, edible48 birds' nests flavored with crab148 meat, from China, and white bread. For dessert we had small Chinese pears preserved in vinegar, which we ate out of the tin—"Woman Brand Pears," the label said. There was a colored picture on it of a white woman, in old-fashioned puffed149 sleeves and a long skirt, seated in a garden, 124 while a Chinaman served her deferentially150 with pears out of the same kind of a container. Underneath151 was printed in English: "These pears will be found highly stimulating152. We respectfully submit them to our customers." That was the first evidence I had seen of China's bid for export trade in tinned fruit. "Stimulating" may not have been just the word, but I liked the touch of Chinese courtesy which followed it. It didn't seem out of place, even coming from a canning factory.
Puarei gave all his attention to his food, and consumed an enormous quantity. My own appetite was a healthy one, but I had not his capacity of stomach; furthermore, he ate with his fingers, while I was handicapped from the first with a two-prong fork and a small tin spoon. I believe they were the only implements153 of the sort on the island, for the village had been searched for them before they were found. It was another evidence to me of the unfrequented nature of Rutiaro, and of its slender contact, even with the world of Papeete traders. At most of the islands we had visited, knives and forks were common, although rarely used except in the presence of strangers. The onlookers154 at the feast—about half the village, I should say—watched with interest my efforts to balance mouthfuls of rice on a two-prong fork. I could see that they regarded it as a ridiculous proceeding155. They must have thought Americans a strange folk, checking appetite and worrying digestion with such doubtful aids. Finally I decided to follow the chief's example and set to with my fingers. They laughed at that, and Puarei looked up from his third plate of rice and chicken to nod approval. It was a strange 125 meal, reminding me of stories I had read as a boy, of Louis XV dining in public at Versailles, with a roomful of visitors from foreign courts looking on; whispering behind fans and lace cuffs156; exchanging awestruck glances at the splendor157 of the service, the richness of the food, and the sight of majesty fulfilling a need common to all humankind. There was no whispering among the crowd at the Chinaman's shop, no awestruck glances other than Moy Ling's, at the majesty of Puarei's appetite. I felt sorry for him as he trotted158 back and forth from his outdoor kitchen, bringing in more food, thinking of his depleted159 stock, smiling with an expression of wan6 and worried amiability160. Louis XV would have given something, I'll venture, for that old Paumotuan chief's zest161 for food, for the kingly weight of bone and muscle which demanded such a store of nourishment162. He pushed back his chair at length, with a sign of satisfaction, and a half-caste girl of seventeen or eighteen removed the empty dishes.
Paumotuan hospitality is an easy, gracious thing, imposing163 obligations on neither host nor guest. Dinner over, I told Puarei that I wanted to take a walk, and he believed me. I was free at once, and I knew that he would not be worrying meanwhile about my entertainment. I would not be searched for presently, and pounced164 upon with the dreaded165: "See here! I'm afraid you are not having a good time," of the uneasy host. I was introduced to no one, dragged nowhere to see anything, free from the necessity of being amused. I might do as I liked—rare and glorious privilege—and I went outside, grateful for it, and for the cloak of darkness which enabled me to move about 126 unobserved. It lifted here and there in the glow of supper fires, or a streak of yellow lamplight from an open doorway. I saw family groups gathered around their meals of fish and coconuts166, heard the loud intake167 of breath as they sucked the miti sauce from their fingers. Dogs were splashing about in the shallows of the lagoon, seeking their own supper of fish. They are a strange breed, the dogs of the atolls, like no other that I have ever seen, a mixture of all breeds one would think, a weird168 blending of good blood and bad. The peculiar environment and the strange diet have altered them so that they hardly seem dogs at all, but, rather, semiamphibious animals, more at home in the sea than on land. They are gentle-mannered with their masters and with strangers, but fierce fighters among themselves. I sat down behind a clump169 of bushes, concealed170 from the light of one of the smoldering171 supper fires, and watched a group of Rutiaroan dogs in their search for food. They had developed a sort of team work in the business, leaped toward the shore all together with a porpoise-like curving of their bodies, and were as quick as a flock of terns to see and to seize their prey172.
Returning from my walk, I found the village street deserted and all of the people assembled back of Moy Ling's shop. He was mixing bread at a table while one of the sons of his strange family piled fresh fuel on the fire under a long brick oven. It was a great event, the bread making, after the long months of dearth173, and of interest to everyone. Mats were spread within the circle of the firelight. Puarei was there, with his wife—a mountain of a woman—seated at his side. She was dressed in a red-calico wrapper, and her 127 long black hair fell in a pool of shadow on the mat behind her. She was a fit wife for a chief, in size, in energy, in the fire and spirit living in the huge bulk of flesh. Her laughter came in a clear stream which it was a delight to hear. There was no undertone of foreboding or bitter remembrance, and the flow of it, as light-hearted as a child's, heightened the merrymaking mood of the others. There was a babble174 of talk, bursts of song, impromptu175 dancing to the accompaniment of an accordion176 and the clapping of hands. As I looked on I was minded of an account I had read of the Paumotuans in which they were described as "a dour177 people, silent, brooding, and religious." Religious some of them assuredly are, despite a good deal of evidence to the contrary, and they are often silent in the dreamy way of remote island people whose moods are drawn from the sea, whose minds lie fallow to the peace and the beauty of it. But "dour and brooding" is very far from the truth.
I took a place among them as quietly as possible, for I knew by repeated experience how curious they are about strangers, and first meetings were usually embarrassing. Without long training as a freak with a circus, it would try any man's courage to sit for an hour among a group of Paumotuans while he was being discussed item by item. There is nothing consciously brutal178 or callous179 in the manner of it, but, rather an unreflecting frankness like that of children in the presence of something strange to their experience. I knew little of the language, although I caught a word here and there which indicated the trend of the comment. It was not general, fortunately, but confined to those on either side of me. Two old grandmothers 128 started a speculation180 as to whether or not I had any children, and from this a discussion rose as to which of the girls of Rutiaro would be best suited as a wife for me. I was growing desperate when Chance, the godfather of all wanderers, intervened again in my favor.
Moy Ling's fire was burning brightly and it occurred to several of the youngsters to resume their marble playing. I saw Puarei's face light with pleasure, and he was on his feet at once with his stake in the ring. Others followed, and soon all those who had marbles were in the sport. I understood clearly then how helpless Tino had been. I could easily picture him rushing from group to group, furious at the thought of his interests being neglected through such childish folly181. Those marbles were more desirable than his flour and canned goods, which he stood ready to exchange for copra. The explanation of this astounding182 fact may have been that no one thought he would go off as he did, and to-morrow would do just as well for getting down to business. Since he had gone, there was an end of that. It was futile183 to worry about the lost food. Certainly it was forgotten during the great tournament which took place that evening. Moy Ling worked at his bread making unnoticed. His fire died down to a heap of coals, but another was built and the play went on. Puarei was a splendid shot, in marble playing as in other respects, the best man of the village; but there was a slip of a girl who was even better. During the evening she accumulated nearly half of the entire marble supply, and at length these two met for a test of skill. It was a long-drawn-out game. I had never seen anything to equal the interest of both players and spectators; not even at 129 Brown's lumber yard when the stakes were a boy's most precious possessions, cornelian stone taws. No one thought of sleep except a few of the old men and women, who dozed130 off at intervals184 with their heads between their knees.
The lateness of the hour—the bizarre setting for a game so linked with memories of boyhood, combined to give me an impression of unreality. I had the feeling that the island and all the people on it might vanish at any moment, and the roar of the surf resolve itself into the rumble185 of street traffic in some gray city. And, though it were the very city where marbles are made, where in the length or breadth of it could there be found anyone who knew the use of them, with either the time or the inclination to play? I might search it, street by street, to the soot-stained suburbs; I might go on to the green country, perhaps; visit all the old-time marble-playing rendezvous from one coast to the other, with no better success. And, though I passed through a thousand villages of the size of Rutiaro, could an evening's amusement be provided in any one of them, for men, women, and children, at an outlay186 of four dollars, American? The possibility would not be worth considering. People at home live too fast in these days, and they want too much. I could imagine Tino, in a sober mood, giving a grudging187 assent188 to this. "But, man!" he would have added, "I wish they had more of their marble-making enthusiasm at Rutiaro. I would put in here three times a year and fill the Winship with copra to within an inch of the main boom every trip."
Moy Ling had enough of it for the whole island, it seemed to me. His ovens were opened as the tournament 130 came to an end, and for half an hour he was kept busy passing out crisp brown loaves and jotting189 down the list of creditors190 in his account book. It must have been nearly midnight. The crowd began to disperse191. Puarei joined me, smiling ruefully, holding out empty hands. He had lost all of his marbles to a mite19 of a girl whom he could have put in his vest pocket had he owned one. His wife teased him about it on the way home, laughed heartily192 at his explanations and excuses. They discussed the events of the day long after the other members of the household had retired to their mats on the veranda193. At last I heard their quiet breathing, and a strip of light from the last quarter moon revealed them asleep, two massive heads on the same pillow. I lay awake for a much longer time, thinking of one thing and another—of my friend Crichton at Tanao, the loneliest atoll in the world I should say; of the Winship far out to sea, homeward bound with one hundred and forty tons of copra in her hold; of Tino with his fits of temper, and his passion for trade which blinded him to so much of the beauty and the joy of life. But, after all, I thought, it is men like Tino who keep wheels turning and boats traveling the seas. If he were to die, his loss would be felt; there would be an eddy194 in the current of life around him. But men like Crichton or myself—we should go down in our time, and the broad stream would flow over our heads without a ripple195 to show where we had been, without a bubble rising to the surface to carry with it for a moment the memory of our lives. It was not a comforting thought, and I tried to evade196 it; but I realized that my New England conscience was playing a part in these reflections and was not to be 131 soothed197 in any such childish manner. "How much copra have you ever produced or carried to market?" it appeared to say. I admitted that the amount was negligible. "How do you mean to justify198 your presence here?" was the next question, and before I could think of a satisfactory answer, "What good will come of this experience, either to yourself or to anyone else?" That was a puzzler until I happened to think of Findlay's South Pacific Directory. I remembered that his information about Rutiaro was very scant199, the general remarks confined, as I have already said, to a single sentence, "A lonely atoll, numbering a population of between seventy-five and one hundred inhabitants." As a sop200 to my conscience, it occurred to me that I might write to the publishers of that learned work, suggesting that, in the light of recent investigations201, they add to that description, "Fond of playing marbles."
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1
schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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sublet
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| v.转租；分租 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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increment
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| n.增值，增价；提薪，增加工资 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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begrudge
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| vt.吝啬，羡慕 | |
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begrudged
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| 嫉妒( begrudge的过去式和过去分词 )； 勉强做； 不乐意地付出； 吝惜 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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vanilla
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| n.香子兰，香草 | |
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bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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cinder
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| n.余烬，矿渣 | |
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vents
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| （气体、液体等进出的）孔、口( vent的名词复数 )； （鸟、鱼、爬行动物或小哺乳动物的）肛门； 大衣等的)衩口； 开衩 | |
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crunch
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| n.关键时刻；艰难局面；v.发出碎裂声 | |
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cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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larks
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| n.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的名词复数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了v.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的第三人称单数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了 | |
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mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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quay
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| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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lagoon
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| n.泻湖，咸水湖 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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ebb
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| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
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majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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fathoms
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| 英寻( fathom的名词复数 ) | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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nominal
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| adj.名义上的；(金额、租金)微不足道的 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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kerosene
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| n.(kerosine)煤油，火油 | |
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schooners
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| n.（有两个以上桅杆的）纵帆船( schooner的名词复数 ) | |
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itinerant
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| adj.巡回的；流动的 | |
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missionaries
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| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
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steamship
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| n.汽船，轮船 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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ledgers
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| n.分类账( ledger的名词复数 ) | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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bugs
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| adj.疯狂的，发疯的n.窃听器( bug的名词复数 )；病菌；虫子；[计算机]（制作软件程序所产生的意料不到的）错误 | |
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bunks
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| n.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的名词复数 )；空话，废话v.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的第三人称单数 )；空话，废话 | |
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vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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beacon
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| n.烽火，（警告用的）闪火灯，灯塔 | |
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46
abeam
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| adj.正横着(的) | |
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47
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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48
edible
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| n.食品，食物；adj.可食用的 | |
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49
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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50
stoutest
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| 粗壮的( stout的最高级 )； 结实的； 坚固的； 坚定的 | |
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51
coconut
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| n.椰子 | |
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52
grouchily
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| adv.不高兴地，发牢骚地 | |
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53
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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54
thatch
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| vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部；n.茅草(屋) | |
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55
corrugated
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| adj.波纹的；缩成皱纹的；波纹面的；波纹状的v.（使某物）起皱褶(corrugate的过去式和过去分词) | |
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56
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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57
blots
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| 污渍( blot的名词复数 )； 墨水渍； 错事； 污点 | |
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58
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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inaccessible
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| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
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62
ledges
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| n.（墙壁，悬崖等）突出的狭长部分( ledge的名词复数 )；（平窄的）壁架；横档；（尤指）窗台 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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65
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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66
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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shrub
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| n.灌木，灌木丛 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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70
allurement
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| n.诱惑物 | |
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lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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75
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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76
tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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77
galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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digestion
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| n.消化，吸收 | |
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79
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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80
perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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81
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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82
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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83
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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85
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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86
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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87
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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92
formulate
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| v.用公式表示；规划；设计；系统地阐述 | |
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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consignment
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| n.寄售；发货；委托；交运货物 | |
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96
constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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97
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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98
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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99
accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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100
erred
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| 犯错误，做错事( err的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101
omnipotence
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| n.全能，万能，无限威力 | |
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102
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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103
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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104
haphazard
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| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
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105
marooned
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| adj.被围困的；孤立无援的；无法脱身的 | |
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106
quench
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| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
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107
stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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108
bartered
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| v.作物物交换，以货换货( barter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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109
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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110
inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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111
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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112
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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113
talismanic
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| adj.护身符的，避邪的 | |
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114
predecessor
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| n.前辈，前任 | |
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115
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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116
garish
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| adj.华丽而俗气的，华而不实的 | |
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117
infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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118
glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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119
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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120
streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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121
attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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122
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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123
northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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124
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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125
silhouette
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| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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126
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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127
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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128
coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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129
entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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130
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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131
browbeaten
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| v.（以言辞或表情）威逼，恫吓( browbeat的过去分词 ) | |
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132
intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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133
mania
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| n.疯狂；躁狂症，狂热，癖好 | |
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134
balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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135
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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136
sputtering
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| n.反应溅射法；飞溅；阴极真空喷镀；喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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137
humdrum
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| adj.单调的，乏味的 | |
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138
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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139
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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140
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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141
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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142
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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143
syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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144
reminder
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| n.提醒物，纪念品；暗示，提示 | |
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145
gourmet
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| n.食物品尝家；adj.出于美食家之手的 | |
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146
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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147
curried
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| adj.加了咖喱（或咖喱粉的），用咖哩粉调理的 | |
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148
crab
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| n.螃蟹，偏航，脾气乖戾的人，酸苹果；vi.捕蟹，偏航，发牢骚；vt.使偏航，发脾气 | |
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149
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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150
deferentially
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| adv.表示敬意地，谦恭地 | |
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151
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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152
stimulating
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| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
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153
implements
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| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
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154
onlookers
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| n.旁观者，观看者( onlooker的名词复数 ) | |
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155
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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156
cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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157
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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158
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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159
depleted
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| adj. 枯竭的, 废弃的 动词deplete的过去式和过去分词 | |
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160
amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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161
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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162
nourishment
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| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
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163
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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164
pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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165
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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166
coconuts
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| n.椰子( coconut的名词复数 )；椰肉，椰果 | |
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167
intake
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| n.吸入，纳入；进气口，入口 | |
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168
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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169
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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170
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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171
smoldering
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| v.用文火焖烧，熏烧，慢燃( smolder的现在分词 ) | |
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172
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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173
dearth
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| n.缺乏，粮食不足，饥谨 | |
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174
babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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175
impromptu
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| adj.即席的，即兴的；adv.即兴的(地)，无准备的(地) | |
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176
accordion
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| n.手风琴；adj.可折叠的 | |
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177
dour
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| adj.冷酷的，严厉的；（岩石）嶙峋的；顽强不屈 | |
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178
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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179
callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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180
speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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181
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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182
astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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183
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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184
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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185
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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186
outlay
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| n.费用，经费，支出；v.花费 | |
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187
grudging
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| adj.勉强的，吝啬的 | |
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188
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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189
jotting
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| n.简短的笔记，略记v.匆忙记下( jot的现在分词 )；草草记下，匆匆记下 | |
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190
creditors
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| n.债权人，债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
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191
disperse
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| vi.使分散；使消失；vt.分散；驱散 | |
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192
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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193
veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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194
eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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195
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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196
evade
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| vt.逃避，回避；避开，躲避 | |
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197
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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198
justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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199
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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200
sop
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| n.湿透的东西，懦夫；v.浸，泡，浸湿 | |
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201
investigations
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| （正式的）调查( investigation的名词复数 )； 侦查； 科学研究； 学术研究 | |
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