IN this chapter I will tell a true fairy story that is directly connected with Pokara’s and my own experiences. Indeed, I imagine it to be one of the most realistic fairy-tales that it was my lot to hear and witness in its most full-blooded stage; I also deem that it will be interesting, in an educational sense, to students of modern mythology1, since it quaintly2 distinguishes the difference between pre-Christian3 mythology and the materialized Goddesses and Creation myths of to-day, through being modified by European influences.
About a week after my troubadouring expedition with Pokara, I sat by the old chief’s side wondering what new venture his erratic4 personality would thrust upon me. My comrade, clad in his finest attire5 of distinguished6 chiefdom, had puckered7 his brows, and his eyes had that look about them which plainly told me that he was about to spring some new surprise upon me. Suddenly he said:
“Masser, you play nicer moosic, therefore am to be trusted; I knower that you feel kinder towards good mans who am in trouble and so no tell what you no tell and so make troubles!”
“Not I, Pokara, old pal,” I responded, though I felt I was no apostle of such mighty8 virtues9 any more than was Pokara. Without hesitation10 the aged11 Tahitian began to insinuate12 by gentle hints that he wished me to go 101off with him to see a dear friend who lived in the mountains that formed a grand background to the semi-pagan city, Papeete. Before the screaming coveys of parakeets, that were bound seaward, had faded on the horizon, we were off.
It was a long, hot walk as I tramped by Pokara’s side and we threaded our way through the deep jungle growth. I noticed that the old chief often stopped and looked warily13 over his shoulder, to see if we were observed as we crept along the winding14 tracks which ever led upward like some “Excelsior” of Nature’s ambitious loveliness that would climb to scenes of ever-increasing beauty. Indeed, as we climbed the scenery became perfect: distant landscapes dotted with waving palms, chestnut15, breadfruit, and strange trees painted with rich crimson16 and delicate pigments17 of Nature’s voluptuous18 art, ever coming into fullest view. Far away, visible between rugged19 descents and sombre clefts20, stretched the sapphire-blue miles of the Pacific Ocean. Seemingly no human habitation existed in those rugged leagues of mountain solitude21. Emerging from the thickets22 of giant bamboo, we came to a space on a plateau, and there, to my astonishment23, I found myself standing24 before two small, yellow bamboo huts. I stared in amazement25, and Pokara rubbed his hands in childish delight at seeing the wonder my face expressed. I half fancied he had led up to one of the enchanted26 homesteads of the fairies that he had sworn had existed in those mountains in his youth. Death-like silence prevailed. Even the giant mahogany trees ceased to sigh to the inblown breath of the distant seas, as I gazed on the magical scene before me. Pokara had uttered a weird27 kind of cry: “Aloa! Aue!” The spell was broken, for the first hut’s little door was suddenly opened, and out sprang the prettiest fairy-maid it has ever been my lot to meet. She stared at 102me in a half-frightened way for a moment, then said:
“Yorana, Monsieur!”
I lifted my old helmet hat, then in my embarrassment28 dropped my violin-case on her bare toes, and murmured, “Yorana, Mademoiselle.”
The fright went from the maid’s eyes when Pokara said:
“Ah, he all right; he nicer Englese boy, play moosic, and kind to Pokara.”
On hearing this, the Spanish-Tahitian girl, for such I discovered she was, looked up at me in a most bewitching manner, and, smiling, revealed a set of invaluable29 pearly teeth. Her bright, far-away-looking eyes cast a spell over me. In my confusion I dropped my own and, finding myself staring at her bare, graceful30 ankles and knees, I blushed, and once more looked her straight in the face, as Pokara chuckled31 like a child.
She was clad in true Tahitian style, but with a subtle decorous picturesqueness32 such as a poet, sensitive to the delicate requirements of his art, might have chosen as a special attire for her after deep meditation33—a meditation that was essentially34 needful, as one will soon see. Bare to about an inch below the knees and again from the exquisitely35 shaped throat to half an inch below the bosom’s topmost curve, her figure was revealed with a delicacy36 that enchanted me. She appeared like some half-serious, half-wicked goddess who would lure37, would tempt38 her lover, and turn to stone at the first hint of mortal passion. But she was not a goddess nor a beautifully chiselled39 terra-cotta statue. Her eyes blinked to the buzz of the forest flies. Like tiny flashes of wriggling41 lightning in two miniature circles of the midnight tropic skies, those orbs42 twinkled as the honey-bee 103clung to the crown of her forest-like hair. And—alas43 for human weakness!—there was that about her which told one that, for all her delicate loveliness, she was imbued44 with the frailty45 of mortals.
Just as I was thanking my lucky stars that my eyes could dwell on so sweet a sight and yet remain in the realms of reality, the spell was once again broken. For the maid called out, “Revy! Awaie! Come!” and at once, as though he had awaited that call, out of the same small hut walked a sun-tanned, handsome young Frenchman! And who was he? I will tell you. The young Parisian, standing there before me with staring eyes, was a convict, a fugitive46 from Ill Nou, the penal47 settlement of Noumea. He was hiding there in the mountains, secure from the lashes40 of the remorseless surveillants, hiding, guarded by the tender protection of that beautiful goddess, who was none other than Pokara’s granddaughter! It appeared that Pokara’s son, who had been dead then for years, had married a handsome Spanish woman whom he had saved from a wrecked48 schooner49 that had gone ashore50 at Papeete many years ago.
Aloa was the one child of this marriage, and she was the one remaining joy of Pokara’s long-vanished connubial51 bliss52.
Reveire, for so I will call that young Frenchman, had escaped from the convict settlement by stowing away on a schooner bound for Papeete. He was evidently unaware53 of the schooner’s destination, for Papeete, being under the French, was about the most dangerous place he could have come to. Probably this fact made his hiding-place the more secure. Pokara had met the escaped man whilst out on one of the schooners54, and had immediately accepted the proffered55 bribe56. And it was whilst he was hiding in Pokara’s bungalow57 that his granddaughter Aloa fell madly in love with the Frenchman, 104and suggested that he should hide with her in the mountains. It was a blessed union. Reveire was a fine type of fellow. It was some crime of passion that had sent him into that dreadful exile. From the young Frenchman’s lips I heard many tales of horrors that were perpetrated by the surveillants on the helpless convicts at Ill Nou, New Caledonia. Some of those tales seemed incredible; but, alas! Reveire’s manner expressed truth too well.
Many times did I visit that magical homestead of the mountains. And many times, while on tropical nights the stars sighed over the mountain trees, Pokara and I would listen as the exile told us his sorrows, while pretty Aloa murmured, “Aue! Aue!” stroked her lover’s face, and kissed his hand, tears coming into her eyes to think he had suffered so much. As I watched that strange scene of secret domestic grief and happiness, Pokara touched me gently on the shoulder and whispered:
“Ah, Masser, we all good peoples here. For I did fetch priest, kackerlick (catholic), for my Aloa’s sake, and he did marry them. He good priest and say nothings, good man he, because he like God and God like him!”
So spake Pokara, thus giving me this utmost satisfaction of recording58 the fact that my goddess had entered the holy bonds of matrimony according to the modern mythology of the Christian era.
“Wail59! O wail! O jug60! jug! too ee wailo,” came the plaintive61 strain of the South Sea nightingale as it serenaded its mate during the intervals62 of my violin-playing. It was no nightingale to Pokara and pretty Aloa; it was simply a tiny, feathered cavalier, robed in a crimson [woolly] gown of enchantment63, singing to its long-dead lover, pouring forth64 passionate65 melody over old memories of that time ere the gods disguised it as a bird, when 105it was a brave Tahitian chief! Though I had had many weird, dream-like experiences in my travels on sea and land, I was greatly impressed by the human note of that forest drama. And, as I listened and watched, drinking in each incident like a child at its first pantomime, the fragrant66 odours of the dying forest flowers and mellowing67 mountain fruits, wafted68 by the warm zephyrs69 over that secret homestead, made the scene seem strangely dream-like. But it was all real enough for, when I placed my violin to my chin and played the strains of the “Marseillaise,” Reveire’s eyes filled with tears over some memory of his far-off La belle70 France that he would never see again. But thanks to the inscrutable kindness of Providence71, a small portion of the wistful soul of chivalrous72 France came to him, and all seemed well in the end. For, ere I bade Pokara good-bye, I went with him for a last trip up into the mountains to visit that fairy-like secret homestead. Reveire had quite forgotten his home-sick sorrows. He was laughing like a big schoolboy. As for Aloa, she was gazing up into his face, delight sparkling in her eyes, as in her arms she held up another little Frenchman who was just one week old—and who had bravely crossed the Infinite Seas to keep Reveire company.
After losing sight of Pokara, who went on a prolonged visit to some native friends in a neighbouring isle73, I secured a position as violinist in the Presidency74 orchestra at Papeete. But, alas! one night when the sea wind was moaning in the mountain palms near my wooden homestead, I again heard the call of the wild, and plunged75 into a life of vagabond adventure and madness, as will be seen in the next chapter.
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1
mythology
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| n.神话，神话学，神话集 | |
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quaintly
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| adv.古怪离奇地 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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erratic
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| adj.古怪的，反复无常的，不稳定的 | |
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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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puckered
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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insinuate
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| vt.含沙射影地说，暗示 | |
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warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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pigments
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| n.（粉状）颜料( pigment的名词复数 )；天然色素 | |
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voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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clefts
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| n.裂缝( cleft的名词复数 )；裂口；cleave的过去式和过去分词；进退维谷 | |
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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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thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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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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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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invaluable
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| adj.无价的，非常宝贵的，极为贵重的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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picturesqueness
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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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essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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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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tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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chiselled
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| adj.凿过的，凿光的； （文章等）精心雕琢的v.凿，雕，镌( chisel的过去式 ) | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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41
wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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orbs
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| abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球，天体，圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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imbued
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| v.使（某人/某事）充满或激起（感情等）( imbue的过去式和过去分词 )；使充满；灌输；激发（强烈感情或品质等） | |
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45
frailty
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| n.脆弱；意志薄弱 | |
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fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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penal
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| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
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wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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connubial
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| adj.婚姻的，夫妇的 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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53
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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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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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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bungalow
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| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
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recording
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| n.录音，记录 | |
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wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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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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enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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mellowing
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| 软化，醇化 | |
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wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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zephyrs
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| n.和风，微风( zephyr的名词复数 ) | |
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belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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presidency
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| n.总统(校长，总经理)的职位(任期) | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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