After a ride of several hours in a sort of green twilight, the forest began to open, and there before our astonished gaze was the most important waterfall on the island, imparting an inconceivable freshness and animation to the landscape around. The Fautáua makes at this point a leap of about 200 metres
(650 feet), into a huge basin, which lies at the foot of a lofty precipice, 420 metres (1450 feet) above the level of the sea; the temperature of the water in the basin itself being about 70° Fahr.
The steep crags, which tower overhead on all sides, and like a gigantic wall impede the view of the peninsula of Taiarapu, which lies behind them, are as marvellous in the luxuriance of the vegetation that covers them, as they are strategically important by their impregnability, the French having only succeeded in gaining footing upon them by treachery, and not by fortune of war. Some chiefs favourable to the French had acted as guides, and had led them by secret and dangerous paths up to these heights, for which service they to this day receive an annual pension paid in gold out of the state treasury. Formerly the rough, steep, almost inaccessible precipices formed of themselves a natural fort, and by their peculiar form, their position, and their strength, might be called the key of the entire island. The French conquerors immediately converted this spot, 630 metres (2052 feet) above the level of the sea, into a small fort with the usual tricolor flag, and, on the limited flat surface at their disposal, on which alone it was possible to build, erected a barrack and a few huts, besides laying out a kitchen-garden, which supplies with fruit and vegetables the residents of this solitary but lovely abode.
The officer on guard within the fort received us with that fascinating friendliness and bonhommie characteristic of the
French in all parts of the world, and which makes them everywhere such "jolly" companions. The provisions we had brought with us were speedily improved by the addition of everything that the garrison mess could set before us, and there was no lack even of delicacies, as they might be considered in these latitudes, for the little kitchen-garden contiguous furnished plenty of water-cresses and strawberries. The temperature was at this season singularly delicious and elastic, but in July, when the thermometer occasionally sinks to 46 1⁄2° Fahr., the little garrison suffers much from cold and inflammatory attacks.
Another excursion, not less charming but far more arduous, is that to the Waiiria Lake, far in the interior of the island. This was achieved by Mr. Frauenfeld, one of the zoologists of the Expedition. From Papeuriri in the south of the island, which is easily reached in one day from Papeete by a road winding along the coast, the Waiiria valley leads in a S.S.E. to N.N.W. direction, up to the central peak, whence the deep valleys and water-courses radiate towards the coast like the spokes of a wheel. The valley is at first tolerably wide, but so densely covered with trees and shrubs, interlaced in wild confusion, that the horses had to be left behind at Papeuriri. A rather wide mountain-torrent rushes throughout its length, and, a little further on, when the valley contracts into a pathless defile, has not merely to be crossed so frequently as to baffle all count, but leaves the tourist to scramble up its rocky course by leaping from stone to stone. After four hours' toil
the valley suddenly closes in, and it becomes necessary to scramble up an almost perpendicular precipice 1000 feet in height. It was a tight bit of work, struggling upwards under a tropical rain over the slippery moss-grown blocks, every cranny and projection thickly studded with creeping plants. The crest of the pass, from 60 to 80 feet wide, hemmed in by precipices impossible to scale, was fortified by the natives during the war; that is to say, a breastwork of stones was thrown up, thus converting the depression on the other side of the mountain, in which lies the lake, into an inaccessible lurking-place. Not far distant is the deep narrow defile of Ruotorea, which played so conspicuous a part in the older history of Tahiti, as it was customary to fling into it all prisoners of war. At length, about two P.M., the lake itself was reached, lying in a sort of mountain cauldron, the sides of which descend steeply, while two of the loftiest peaks, those of Tetuero and Anaori, rise sheer out of the lake to a height of 5000 feet.[81] Except at the narrow strip of ground, on which M. Frauenfeld found himself standing, and which was nothing but a beach of small extent, there was no other spot within sight at which it would have been possible to land. The distance to the opposite shore, when visible, seems about half a mile. The whole basin, even where the enclosing rocks are steepest, indeed, almost perpendicular, and thence up to the
summits of the loftiest peaks, is densely covered with trees, reeds, and creepers, especially scitamineæ, the brilliant green hues of which are reflected in the mirror-like surface of the lake below. All the forests here are of wild plantain, and the sugar-cane is found growing wild in a variety of places. A few ducks, a swallow, and a couple of parrots were all that was seen of animal life. A strange silence brooded over the entire landscape,—not a leaf trembled, not a sound broke the solemn stillness, and a depressing feeling of loneliness and utter abandonment seized on the traveller. The spot for the night's encampment was selected close to a large stone, against which a sort of penthouse was erected of banana leaves, which promised welcome shelter during the night. The exceedingly unfavourable weather prevented an adequate investigation being made of the environs of the lake, and as the following morning was ushered in with, if anything, an accession of bad weather, the plan which had been projected of constructing a boat with which to explore the lake was abandoned, and the party set out on their return to Papeete.
During our stay at Tahiti, a grand national festival took place at the little village of Faáa, about an hour's walk from Papeete. In fact, it has latterly become the custom, on every change of Governor, to have a feast of welcome in his honour in every district. On such occasions speeches are made, presents are prepared, dances are practised, and long tables, groaning under all sorts of food and drink, are set out in the open air for the invited guests. Governor Saisset, who
had been seven months in office, and had already made the circuit of the island, visiting all the districts, was, however, not yet welcomed with the customary festivities of the inhabitants of Faáa. This solemnity accordingly passed off with all pomp on 22nd February. By eight A.M. some twenty cavaliers had assembled in front of the Government Palace, whence, with the Governor at their head, and accompanied by the native militia, also mounted, they took the road to Faáa. Only one lady, Madame de la Richerie, wife of the Commissaire Impérial, accompanied the cavalcade. On our arrival at Faáa we found the native females, attired in their gayest national dress, formed into line, and the men, partly clothed in the European manner, partly in the "Paréu," a broad scarf of printed muslin wound round the loins, shaking their variegated plumes, and carrying banners and flags of bark specially prepared for the feast, some Pandanus leaves being also handed to the guests.