Among the excursions made by the members of the Expedition, a double interest attached to that made to Point Venus. It was on this promontory that Captain Cook first made the astronomical observations by which he determined the position of the island. The ride thither lay through delicious groves of cocoa-palms and bread-fruit trees, mingled here and there with citron and orange-trees, as also bananas and guavas. Near the Point lies the village of Matavai, inhabited by several white settlers, each in his little cottage with its blooming garden around it. The tree-like Oleander and the beautiful red flower Hibiscus rosasinensis towered above in full bloom, the entire scene being almost sufficient to captivate a European. The native governor of the district is a pretty well-educated man, who has spent nine months in Paris, and on the occasion of the capture by the French of the fort of
Fautáua had been rewarded for his not very patriotic services by the cross of the Legion of Honour, besides being appointed chief of the militia. His farm is very nicely managed, and his daughters, elegant, well-mannered brunettes, speak a little French, an accomplishment in which the Tahitian ladies, notwithstanding their intimate relations with the sons of "la grande nation," are usually entirely deficient. At Point Venus is a lighthouse, with an intermittent light, visible about 14 miles seaward, in charge of an aged French veteran (invalide). The tamarind tree is still pointed out, which Captain Cook planted close to the spot where he completed those renowned labours, which still single him out as the greatest of Pacific discoverers.
With the exception of those to Point Venus on one side, and to the large villages of Faáa and Papeuriri in the opposite direction, there are no practicable roads on the island. On the whole, there are about 36 miles of road suitable for wheeled carriages,—all travels beyond must be performed on horseback, by which means the entire island can be traversed in a few days. One of the most agreeable excursions, and which well repays the trouble, is undoubtedly a drive to the beautifully situate hill-fort of Fautáua, renowned in the annals of the island. The first part of the road leads over unsightly fields of guava (Psidium guava), first imported from South America in 1815 by an American missionary, with the laudable object of increasing the number of useful plants upon the island, but which has since so entirely over-grown
large tracts of land, that its systematic extirpation begins to be discussed. Wherever the guava takes root it destroys all other vegetation. It has already extended over the loveliest spots, where its seeds have been dropped in human or animal excrement. Its apple-shaped fruit, red-fleshed inside, is in the raw state anything but pleasant to the taste, and is not readily eaten even by the natives, but a sort of jelly prepared of it could be made an important article of export, as it is already along the west coast of South America. The fruit is also valuable for provender, as animals foddered with it speedily get quite fat, while its wood, growing with great rapidity, is in much request for fuel.
After riding a few miles through these guava-fields, we were astonished at finding a sugar plantation close by the road, which here ran through a lovely little valley. This is the property of an Englishman named Johnson, who, once a whaler, and afterwards a sandal-wood trader, has resided for more than thirty years in Tahiti, and has married a native woman. Johnson, in partnership with a Frenchman named Le Rouge, had planted 23 acres of land with sugar-cane, and when we saw him in February, 1859, expected a crop of from 100 to 110 hogsheads of sugar. The whole property is a perfect model farm, and receives every encouragement and assistance from Government, with the view of extending sugar-planting.[78]
Immediately adjoining the plantation, the river Fautáua flows past, here about five feet deep, and furnishing a most excellent bathing-place. Johnson, like many another, lamented the appalling rapidity with which the native population was falling off, which he ascribed to the daily increasing prevalence of the vices of drunkenness and debauchery. He related to us how many valleys, now lonely and abandoned, were pretty densely peopled only twenty years ago! Then the population was estimated at 15,000, now it is only 5000.[79]
The aspect of the sugar plantation is remarkably fine, and an occasional glimpse of the surrounding hills, bathed in the sunlight, imparts a sublimity that at once arrests the attention, the crags rising in close proximity, and appearing much more precipitous and inaccessible than they are in reality. The Diadem (the name given to several peaks which have a striking resemblance to a crown) displays itself from this point in all its wondrous loveliness, above which tower lofty mountain-peaks, 6000 or 7000 feet in height, which have never been trodden by the foot of the naturalist.
Close behind the hospitable dwelling of Mr. Johnson begins the primitive forest, under the delightful cool shades of which one can ride almost to the goal of the excursion, surrounded on every side by luxuriant green canopies that seem to scale the very clouds, under whose domes play grateful currents of air.[80]
The path, although always a steep ascent, was in very fair condition; only at the point where it was necessary to ford the river Fautáua, which every year swells into an angry torrent during the rainy season, did we find any serious impediment to our further advance. The bridge across the stream had been swept away, and there was nothing for it but to lead the horses through the water, an achievement of no little difficulty and waste of time, owing to the strength of the current and the terror and obstinacy of some of our horses.