At last the club-shaped extremity of the dingy red substance begins to wrinkle up into little rings here and there. Looking now with a magnifying-glass you perceive with joy, that the eight star-shaped indentations assume a white tinge, and the red grows every moment to a more lively hue. The lines widen, and soon the whole resembles a beautiful flower of eight leaves.
We have seen that those wondrous little animals in length of time have built mountains to a height of fifteen thousand feet. The coral islands and reefs are but just above the surface of the water, except in cases where they have been lifted by earthquakes or other internal action, after the little architect of the sea had done his work. Many of these coral islands are of circular form, with an opening which will admit the passage of boats, and sometimes of ships. The waves break on the outer edge with that long, steady swell peculiar to the Pacific, but on the inside the water is as calm and peaceful as that of a mountain lagoon. Sometimes the coral reefs have been formed around the volcanic islands so as to encircle them completely, except at a single opening. In such cases, they make excellent harbors between the reef and the island: the harbor of Tahiti is a splendid specimen of this kind of work. The reef surrounds the island in such a way as to make a lagoon of still water, like the moat around a castle. The entrance is deep, and sufficiently wide to admit ships of every size.
On many of the volcanic islands there are caverns, some of them of considerable size, and often of great depth. Runaway sailors frequently hide in these caverns, and they are also resorted to by the natives in times of warfare. There is a cavern in the Island of Hoonga, one of the Tonga Islands, which has a romantic history from the use that was made of it by the man who discovered it.
AQUATIC SKILL OF THE FEEJEEANS.
One day a young chief of Hoonga was out on a fishing excursion, and caught sight of a large turtle. The turtle dived, and so did the chief, leaving his canoe floating on the surface of the water. The natives of nearly all the Pacific islands can swim like seals; they are in the water and learn to swim about as soon as they learn to walk. It is commonly said that a Feejee baby will swim instinctively, like a puppy or a kitten; but this is not strictly true. The natives think nothing of swimming a mile or two at a time, and they frequently get up swimming matches, in which they show great speed and endurance. The accomplishment is not confined to the sterner sex; girls and women swim as well as boys and men, and frequently the girls carry away the prizes in the swimming matches. It is proper to say that they are not as elaborately dressed as the young ladies of New York and Paris; on some of the islands nobody wears any clothing whatever, except a little oil rubbed over the skin, to keep out the water. Since the missionaries settled in the South Pacific, more attention is paid to dress than formerly; but the quantity worn is surprisingly small, and would not admit the wearers to a fashionable party in America.
The young chief dived for the turtle, and the two had a lively race. The turtle went into a hole in the rocky shore, and the chief went after him. The turtle disappeared, and the chief rose to the surface of the water to regain his boat. But instead of finding himself in the open air, he was in a cavern, a hundred feet wide and twice as long, with a dome as high as the roof of an ordinary church. It was lighted from the water and from a few crevices in the rock, where nobody could reach them. On one side there was a floor of solid rock, smooth as the best sidewalk of a city, and evidently the resort of the turtles of that neighborhood. He explored the cavern, and concluded that he had hit upon a good thing, and would keep it to himself. Taking a new twist in his neck-tie, adjusting his collar, and seeing that his diamond pin was well fastened, he dived into the water, swam outside, and rose near his canoe. With his thumb on the side of his nose, he paddled home, lighted his gas, and sat down in his easy-chair.
He was not a married man, but he had hopes in the direction of matrimony. He loved the daughter of an old chief whose tribe was then at war with his own, and as long as the war lasted there was no hope for their union. His tribe was preparing for an assault upon the other, and the economical custom prevailed there of eating all who were killed or made prisoners. His tribe was more powerful than the other, and if the battle should be on the side of the stronger party, they would have the pleasure of devouring the vanquished ones. He had no particular objection to eating, or seeing his friends eat, the body of his father-in-law, and especially that of his mother-in-law,—many a married man in America can understand his feelings, and sympathize with them,—but he did object to seeing his bride roasted or fricasseed; so he studied out a plan to save her from the gridiron or stewpan.
WHAT A PAIR OF LOVERS DID.
He managed to communicate with her the next day, and told her to meet him at a certain place on the shore, at an appointed time, where he would be ready with his canoe. He was there on time, and she came, with her waiting-maid, who carried their entire wardrobe in an old bottle. A quart of cocoa-nut oil was sufficient to dress her for several days, and it did not take long to pack up. They entered the canoe, and the chief paddled them to the cave, which they reached just as the sun was rising.
“Dress yourself, my dear,” said he, as he ceased paddling, “and have your maid do likewise.”