A delightful object in the landscape, full of repose, and restful for the eye to light upon, is the banana, with its lush fat green stem rising from 10ft. to 15ft., and sometimes as much as 2ft. in diameter. The sheath-like stalks end in vast green blades, often 12ft. long and 4ft. broad, which serve the natives for dishes and sunshades. The whorls of fruit hang below the curving fronds, with a heart of deep-red flowers forming a brilliant bouquet behind them.
But the true glory of the Polynesian forest is the bread-fruit, crowning the dewy grove with its ample form and luxuriant foliage, and showing itself a beneficent providence to the races it supports without demanding any attention in return. The fruit of this tree is the staple article of food of the Fijians. The imposing figure, with horizontal branches and cone-shaped head, rises to a height of from 30ft. to 40ft. Its broad spreading branches are covered with large oblong glossy leaves, which, during the progress of decay, assume the most beautiful tints. The fruit, weighing from 4lb. to 5lb., is about the size of a rock-melon, which it also somewhat resembles in shape, and when ripe is of a rich yellow colour. The surface of the rough rind is reticulated, and has small square or lozenge-shaped divisions, which rise like little conical prominences. The inside is a white pulp, all of which is eaten except a small core containing the seeds. In taste it is insipid, with a slight sweetness. When roasted, or when eaten with a preparation of cocoanut, like batter-pudding with melted butter and sugar, it is very palatable. The natives are fond of the sour paste they make of the fermented bread, baked, and eaten both hot and cold. The bread is allowed to ferment in pits lined with grass. It is often kept in this way for months. In this putrescent state, however, it is disgusting to white men. The bread-fruit trees, which are always a prominent object in the landscape, have a picturesque appearance peculiar to themselves, which no description can convey.
In my walks I was occasionally accompanied by Lolóma. Our friendship was not viewed with a favourable eye by Bent-Axe, who had been betrothed to her from her infancy, but she lost no opportunity of showing her disinclination for his society.
The happiest time, however, was in the long silvery nights, when the valley was filled with the mild splendour of the regent of the sky, and the people turned with glee to joys which tire not. When the moonlight, falling softly, lighted with sheen the little village of Koroivónu, Lolóma and her handmaidens were always ready for the song and dance. They were as merry as a sisterhood of parakeets who cannot sleep in the trees for the exhilarating play of the moon. There seemed to be nothing to dim the brightness of those lightsome hours.
As time wore on, and I explained to my friends something of the history of the white man and his mode of life, the more intelligent of them ceased to regard me as a supernatural being. I did many things which seemed very wonderful to them, and explained some natural phenomena in a manner which they regarded as marvellous, but they gradually discovered what I always impressed on them, that my powers were limited. The common people, nevertheless, continued to regard me as one divinely endowed.
CHAPTER IX.
CANNIBAL CHIEFS.
Big-Wind took a great fancy to me. He was always pleased to have me talk to him as he lay on his mats, or accompany him in his walks abroad. Seen standing erect, he was a magnificent savage. His head of hair, from which a comb projected over his forehead, measured some forty inches round. A long train of white masi trailed behind him like a comet’s tail. A massive club rested on his shoulder, and he walked with a proud and haughty step which proclaimed his chiefly rank.
Cannibal chiefs are mostly men of fine build with naturally intelligent minds, not infrequently well-furnished with local knowledge of that practical sort so much needed by the lower classes of their subjects. They are the brains of the nation. All beneath them are the bones and muscles of it. The governing work they have to do places them high up in intellectual ability above the common people, just as the care and attention they receive, when children, in matters of diet, exercise, and rest, make them physically superior to their neglected serfs.
The heads of some of these men would be pronounced by phrenologists fine specimens of cranial architecture; and here and there may be seen a magnificent encasement of a more than commonly vigorous brain. But the eye, though often large and beautiful, spoils the man. As with Big-Wind, its ever-restless activity tells of an undisciplined and suspicious mind; of the daily waste of mental power in constant thought about everything, and effective concentration of thought on nothing. The true chief is, notwithstanding, wonderfully calm and self-possessed. Ruffle his temper if you can! If the test of good breeding is what Euripides says it is, that “A well-bred man may feel angry, but never show it,” the cannibal chief may be called the best bred man in the world. He will sit and listen to news of the most dreadful and melancholy nature, just brought, it may be, from various parts of his dominions; or he will witness some sudden and startling occurrence; or submit to be addressed by an impulsive foreigner in language the most offensive without shedding a tear, blinking an eye, or twitching a single nerve of his inexpressive countenance.
One day, while talking with Big-Wind, I observed that a messenger, burdened, evidently with weighty intelligence, came up, and seating himself on the ground, finished the respectful greeting due from him as the manner of Fijians is, by clapping his hands in slow and solemn style. Then, addressing his royal master, he said “Sir, I am come to inform you that death has fallen upon us, and your sister is gone.” I eyed the lordly savage scrutinizingly, but without discovering any emotion in his face. He coolly clapped his leg with his right hand. Then, turning to me, he continued the conversation he had previously been engaged in. This is characteristic of the race, but particularly so of the chiefs. To an Englishman their coolness is something distressing. At times, however, it displays itself to great advantage.