PICKING COCOANUTS
This evening in Tahiti had another and still more sublime entertainment in store for us, a spectacle which can be seen in perfection only in the tropics, and, I imagine, Tahiti is the stage more perfect than any other in the world for the display of one of nature's grandest exhibitions. The soft light of the rising moon and the myriads of tiny, flickering stars furnished the illumination; the mountains, forests, harbor and ocean, the stage. We were roused from our reverie by distant peals of thunder. Looking in the direction whence these reports came, we saw black, angry clouds hovering about the mountain-peaks to the south and east of Papeete. The clouds were too heavy for the rarified mountain air and soon began to descend slowly but steadily until they wrapped the towering summits in a cloak of sombre black. The mountain-peaks, which but a short time before were caressed by the gentle, silvery light of the moon, were now completely obscured. Where did these clouds come from? No one could tell. No one could mistake their movements. They appeared to have had only one object in view, and that was to embrace the mountain-range well below the tree-line. Smaller clouds, fragments from the main mass, moving more swiftly in the evening air, impelled by the land-breeze, floated away from the dark wall enveloping the mountainsides, which seemed to possess some subtle, magnetic power buried in the Immense piles of volcanic rocks. At short intervals, great zigzag chains of lightning shot through these dark clouds, momentarily lighting up the dark, unbroken, primeval forest. These dazzling, blinding flashes of lightning were in strong contrast with the soft, tropic moonshine that remained outside of the limits of the aerial sea of clouds, which had commenced to discharge a drenching rain. Fleecy little wandering clouds now flecked the horizon, strangely and variously painted by the moonlight, shortly before the midnight hour. Through fissures in these fleeting, snowy clouds, the moon and stars often peeped at the grand spectacle which was being enacted on the stage below. Lightning and thunder came nearer and nearer with the approach of the weeping mass of clouds. The bolts of lightning must have found their marks with unerring precision in the crags and forest underneath the roof of dense clouds, as from there came at short intervals deafening peals of thunder reverberating through the calm evening air far out over the surface of the sleeping ocean, where the reverberations died out in a faint rumbling.
This majestic but awesome sight was of short duration. The pouring rain relieved the clouds of their abnormal weight, and, balloon-like, they rose, clearing the mountain-range, which then again made its appearance in the soft, bewitching moonlight of the tropics. Lightning and thunder retreated with the disappearance of the clouds. The atmosphere was cool and refreshing, purified by the pouring rain and the furious electric storm. At this stage of the nightly display in our immediate vicinity, in front of the veranda of the little hotel, in full view of the now deserted stage, from the clear, cloudless sky, gigantic drops of rain fell, sparkling in the magic moonlight like diamonds that had become loosened and had fallen from the jeweled crown of the Queen of Night, whose throne had then reached the zenith of the horizon.
Instead of wishing for an encore after such a brilliant act given by nature's artists, we took one more and last look at the serene, smiling, full face of the moon, and were then prepared to acknowledge reverently:
What else is nature but God, and divine reason, residing in the whole world and its parts.
SENECA.
IORANA!
The South Sea Islanders have beautiful words of welcome with which they meet the stranger. The Samoan greets you with talofa; the Hawaiian, with a clear, musical voice, welcomes you with aloha nui; and the Tahitian, with an open, friendly face and a smile, when he meets you, addresses you with that beautiful greeting, iorana. These euphonious words mean more than the words of our language intended for the same purpose; they come from the heart and are addressed to the heart much more so than our "Welcome," "How do you do?" "How are you?" or "I am glad to see you." These Polynesian words are not only words of welcome, but carry with them the best wishes of the natives for the stranger; they signify not only a formality, but also express a sincerity which is so often lacking in our conventional meetings with friends and strangers. The visitor who remains long enough in Tahiti to become acquainted with the natives will find that their greeting, iorana, is verified by their actions. The natives, educated and ignorant, young and old, are polite, friendly and hospitable to a fault. They are fond of making little gifts to strangers, and if these are reciprocated, they are really and honestly grateful. The people are charming, the island beautiful, and nature's storehouse never empty of the choicest that the sea can supply and the soil can produce. Any one who has seen Tahiti, the Island Paradise, on leaving it, and ever after, in recalling his experiences and observations in this island of peace, rest, charms and pleasures, will give expression to his feelings by repeating to himself.
Isle of Beauty!
Absence makes the heart grow fonder:
Isle of Beauty, fare thee well!
BAYLY.
THE END