The discoverers reported that the Tahitians and all other Polynesians were thieves and liars, for the reason that they often seized pieces of iron, tools, and firearms that they saw on the ships or ashore in the houses occupied by the first whites, and then lied about their actions. The whites killed scores for these crimes, one of the initial murders of Cook’s crew being the shooting of Chief Kapupuu as he departed in his canoe from their ship with some bits of metal he had taken. Malo, the native historian, who heard the account from eye-witnesses, explained the incident as follows, first mentioning the sighting of Cook’s vessels and the wonder of the natives:
One said to another, “What is that great thing with branches?” Others said, “It is a forest that has slid down into the sea,” and the gabble and noise was great. Then the chiefs ordered some natives to go in a canoe and observe and examine well that wonderful thing. They went, and when they came to the ship, they saw the iron that was attached to the outside of the ship, and they were greatly rejoiced at the quantity of iron.
Because the iron was known before that time from wood with iron [in or on it] that had formerly drifted ashore, but it was in small quantity, and here was plenty. And they entered on board, and they saw the people with white foreheads, bright eyes, loose garments, corner-shaped heads, and unintelligible speech.
Then they thought that the people [on board] were all women, because their heads were so like the women’s heads of that period. They observed the quantity of iron on board of the ship, and they were filled with wonder and delight.
Then they returned and told the chiefs what they had seen, and how great a quantity of iron. On hearing this, one of the warriors of the chief said, “I will go and take forcible possession of this booty, for to plunder is my business and means of living.”
The chiefs consented. Then this warrior went on board of the ship and took away some of the iron on board, and he was shot at and was killed. His name was Kapupuu. The canoes [around the ship] fled away and reported that Kapupuu had been killed by a ball from a squirt-gun.
And that same night guns were fired and rockets were thrown up. They [the natives] thought it was a god, and they called his name Lonomakua, and they thought there would be war.
Then the chiefess named Kamakahelei, mother of Kaumualii, said, “Let us not fight against our god; let us please him that he may be favorable to us.” Then Kamakahelei gave her own daughter as a woman to Lono. Lelemahoalani was her name; she was older sister of Kaumualii. And Lono [Captain Cook] slept with that woman, and the Kauai women prostituted themselves to the foreigners for iron.
Cook was one of the best of the navigators of the South Seas, a devout churchman, and a believer in the decalogue of Moses. He thought stealing or lying odious before the Lord and men. But the Polynesians did not so think. Most of their possessions were in common, and telling the truth was unimportant. If one asked them about anything they had no interest in, they might tell the truth or might not. If they had interests, these were served by their replies. This is as in diplomacy to-day, when the interests of one’s country allows prevarication, and even in Christian ethics both patriotism and self-preservation, as well as hospitality, permit flat falsehood. Our own spies are honest heroes, and the man who would not deceive a man who sought to kill him or burn his house would be considered a fool and not worth saving.
“There is plenty more in the kitchen,” we say to guests out of hospitality and pride, though the kitchen is as bare as Mother Hubbard’s cupboard. She could not lie to the dog.