All of the villages scattered at short intervals along the ninety-mile drive are small; the largest with not more than five hundred inhabitants. In Papeete, and between it and Papara, the natives live in small frame houses, built on piling several feet above the ground, covered with a roof of corrugated iron, and made more spacious and comfortable by a veranda facing the road. Few native houses are encountered on this part of the journey. Beyond Papara they are the rule, and these retain their primitive charm. They are built of upright sticks of bamboo, lashed side by side to a frame of stripped poles in the form of an oval. Upon this is a heavy roof of pandanus thatch covering a cool, well-ventilated, sanitary home. The air circulates freely through the open spaces between the poles, as well as between the two doorways on opposite sides of the house. Mats take the place of a floor.
LAGOON AND REEF ON THE NINETY-MILE ROAD
Cooking is done outside without the use of a stove. The native oven is a very simple affair, as it consists of a layer of stones upon which a fire is built. When heated to the requisite degree—and this is a matter the experienced housewife must determine—the food is placed amid the embers, wrapped in pieces of banana leaves and covered over with piles of damp breadfruit leaves. Breadfruit, taro, green bananas and plantains, are the articles of food prepared in this way. The roasting of a pig, the favorite meat of the South Sea Islanders, is a more complicated process, and to do it well requires much experience. A hole is dug in the ground and paved with stones, upon which a fire is built. When the stones are thoroughly heated and the fire exhausted or extinguished, the whole animal, properly prepared and wrapped in leaves, is placed in the pit, covered with damp leaves and loose earth. On great festive occasions, fowl and fish are added to the contents of the pit. The pork, fowl and fish cooked in this manner are delicious, and the slightly smoky taste only adds to their savoriness. It is the pride of the cook to remove the roasted pig without mutilation, usually a very delicate task. Chicken, boiled in the milk of the cocoanut, is another masterpiece of native cookery. The cocoanut is prepared in many ways for the table and a sauce made of the compressed juice of the grated nut, mixed with lime juice and sea-water, makes a most palatable sauce for meats and fish.
House-building and housekeeping are free from care and never ruffle the family peace. If a young couple desire to establish a home of their own, they signify their intentions to their friends and neighbors. These gather, usually Sunday afternoon at two o'clock, at the place selected for the new home, bring bamboo sticks, poles and pandanus leaves, and at sundown the house is ready for occupation. The pandanus roof does efficient service for about seven years, when it has to be removed and replaced by a new one. The bamboo framework, properly protected, lasts for a much longer time. As the whole house consists of a single oval room, is floorless and not encumbered by furniture of any kind, the house-wife has an easy existence, more especially as the children can not outwear their clothing, and their husband's loin-cloths need no repairs.
While meat in Tahiti is scarce, every family has an easy access to a rich fish-supply. The fish which swarm in the lagoons and outside of the reefs furnish an easily secured food-supply. They are caught in different ways—by hook or netting—and not the least picturesque way is the torchlight fishing on the lagoon. Torches are improvised of long cocoa-palm leaves tied into rolls. With a boat-load of these, together with nets and spears, the fishermen in their canoes paddle out upon the water after dark. Flying fish, attracted by the light, shoot overhead and are dexterously caught in a hand-net. Other kinds of fish, by aid of the light, are speared over the side of the canoe. Dolphin and bonita, the latter a favorite fish, are taken with the hook and line, in larger canoes sailing on the open sea, but this kind of fishing is left to a few hardy men. The women scoop up small river-fish in baskets, and drag-nets are used in capturing the many varieties of small fish of the lagoon. While the fish are being cooked in the underground oven, some member of the family goes into the adjacent forest and in a short time returns with breadfruit, and a variety of fruits, to make up a dainty and substantial repast.
The island is divided into seventeen districts and each district has its own chief, who is entrusted with the local government. The chiefs are elected by popular vote every few years, the office being no longer hereditary. The chief resides in the principal village of his district and here is to be invariably found a government school, a Protestant and a Catholic church with its respective parochial school, and a meeting-house which serves as a gathering-place for the annual native plays and on all occasions of public concern. A daily mail supplies the rural population with the news of the island and keeps them in touch with the outside world. Abject poverty in the city and country is unknown, and begging is looked upon as a disgrace. There is neither wealth nor poverty in Tahiti. The people have all they need and all they desire, and
Poor and content is rich, and rich enough.
SHAKESPEARE.
I am quite sure that the tourist who has tasted freely of modern life such as it now is in our large cities, with all its cares and temptations, all its unrealness and disappointments, when he has seen the happy, contented, free-from-care Tahitians, in their charming island and simple homes, will be willing to confess:
For my part, I should prefer to be always poor, in blessings such as these.
HORATIUS.