A VIEW OF FAUTAHUA VALLEY
THE FORESTS OF TAHITI
The primeval forests are the pride of Tahiti. Indirectly they are the wealth of the little island. They have been spared the ravages of the woodman's ax. The forests have been kind to the natives and the natives to the forests. The avaricious lumberman, the greatest enemy of public wealth and general prosperity, has fortunately so far not had a design on the magnificent forests of Tahiti, and may he never be permitted to carry on his work of destruction in this island paradise! The giant trees, growing the finest and most valuable timber, hold out much inducement to get-rich-quick men, but they have been destined for a better purpose; they, with the more menial companions, the humble, lowly shrubs, attract the clouds, determine rain, retain moisture and fill the river-beds, creeks and rivulets with the purest water. The forests extend from the shore to near the highest mountain-peaks, making up one great green sea of foliage, interrupted here and there by the summits of hills, ridges, and bare spots of brown, volcanic earth, where vegetation of any kind has been forbidden to take a foothold. Along and near the coast are the charming groves of cocoa-palms, where the ordinary trees, out of deference to the queen of the tropic forests, are few and modest in their ambition to compete with her in height. Here the guava shrub, groaning under the weight of its golden fruit, adds to the beauty of the grove. A walk through such a grove, with glimpses of the blue ocean and the verdant tree-clad hills and mountains, will bring the conviction that
The groves were God's first temples.
BRYANT.
Raising the eyes and looking up the steep incline of the mountains clothed in perennial verdure by a dense virgin forest, we are almost instinctively reminded of the beautiful lines of Dryden:
There stood a forest on the mountain's brow, which
overlook'd the shady plains below;
No sounding axe presumed these trees to bite, coeval
with the world; a venerable sight.
The forest in the tropics has no rest. From one end of the year to the other, it appears the same. There is no general disrobing at the bidding of an uncompromising, stern winter. There are no arctic chills to suffer and no burden of snow to brave. Most of the trees are evergreen, and the few that imitate the example of their kind in the North by an annual change of their leaves, perform this task almost imperceptibly. There are no bald crowns and bare arms. Spring, summer and autumn mingle throughout the year; blossoming and ripe fruits go hand in hand in the same tree or neighboring trees. A walk through a tropic forest is no easy thing, owing to the dense interlacing and often prickly undergrowth, but the visitor is amply rewarded for his efforts. Every step brings new revelations, new surprises. Nowhere are there any signs of deforestation, either by fire or the cruel, thoughtless hand of man. You are in a forest
Where the rude ax, with heaved stroke,
Was never heard the nymphs to daunt,
Or frown them from their hallow'd haunts.
MILTON.
The biggest trees are in the shaded, rich ravines and far up on the mountainside or hill-tops. They seem to be conscious of their superiority and power in the selection of their abode. Look at one of these monsters, with wide-spread, giant branches and impenetrable foliage, and
View well this tree, the queen of all the grove;
How vast her bole, how wide her arms are spread.
How high above the rest she shoots her head!
DRYDEN.