A. Safroni-Middleton

“ It was at that precise moment that my eyes spied a bright spot that shone like a vast jewel under 89the distant ivory nut palms. It was a small forest lagoon that I had not observed before. I was not as surprised as one might suppose, when the water stirred and a shock-head of glistening hair protruded and two sparkling eyes peered at me. I could hardly believe my own eyes as the head rose higher and a beautiful form slowly emerged from the silent depths. She was a goddess-like creation of wondrous beauty; the glistening waters ran from her tresses down below her thighs as she gazed upon me. ”

“ So emigrated to the South Sea Isles—
That Eldorado where men yawned and seemed to make their piles! EVEN the wind, my boon companion—for are we not both born roamers?—seems to blow chunks of old memories through the moonlit, tossing pines that are sighing to-night outside this wayside inn. It’s here that we rest awhile, my fiddle and I, as I take up my pen to record some of the incidents from my early travels. Time, in its everlasting hurry, gives me the briefest space to say all I wish to say; and ere the month ends I shall be, once more, outbound on the western ocean. ”

“ Be he black, tawny, or white, his innermost hopes and aspirations are much the same.
The South-Sea savage gazed with the same wondering eyes of hope on the travelling sun, moon, and stars. To his childlike mind they were the movements of his mighty deities and ancestors. He too peopled the visible universe with gods and goddesses, as did the ancient Greeks; the phenomena of nature impressed his mind in much the same way as it has impressed mankind from the remotest ages. The same kind of sorrow dwelt in the hearts of those old-time savages when they gazed on the dead child in the forest. ”

“ O loved one, all praise to Mbete and the great Ndengi of Mbau
To think that you love me—oh, to think that you love me!
And oh, Kasawayo, if two people love, who shall deny them?
Cannot I see thy face, look into thine eyes, and love thy form, Kasawayo?” Then Kasawayo answered in this wise:
“If I show you my face, will you promise not to kiss me, or say those beautiful words of love that I would so love to hear you say? For, Kora, dear one, I am a goddess, and, though I have a heart that feels some of the passions of the mortals, it is sinful that I should love a mortal.” ”

“ Reality came down on us like a huge, Fate-like hand, and seemed to crush, smash us as though we were bedraggled flies on a mighty window-pane!
Night was a nightmare with a myriad starry eyes. Thirst had us in its grip, but we dare not drink the tiny drop of water that remained in the can. I fell asleep for five minutes, but only managed to fall off into some gulf of misery that was mixed up with the horror of death and castaway canoes. Then O’Hara and I sat up and started to sing a sea-chanty, to cheer up the old gentleman and little Soogy. But, withal, Soogy was plucky enough. ”

“ Now the gods and goddesses had not long left the lonely forest when old Silence trembled in his cave at hearing the jabbering and scampering about of unusual things amongst his solemn trees. An extraordinary thing had happened, for, as the light of the sun stared down through the branches of the coco-palms, six newly-created men yawned, jumped to their new, soft, brown clay feet, and gazed on each other in mute astonishment. ‘Who am I? Who are you?’ It sounded like echoes answering each other in a cave, as each one gabbled forth, ‘Who am I? ”

“ She cast a weird atmosphere over everything by her eerie presence. The trees around me, the moonlight on the tropic flowers, the stealing streams, and the stars, seemed charged with the magical light of Fanga Loma’s eyes! I’ve often fancied I’ve felt the mystery of the great Unseen that dwells about us as we move through this mortal existence, and such a feeling of the proximity of the unknown and “worlds not realized” came to me that night. That eerie, star-eyed girl seemed some enchantress, some dusky Christabel haunting my footsteps as I softly trod the mossy path of that moonlit forest. ”

“ As we sat in the magic canoe, she did softly step into it and give a magic sign. It was with much sorrow that I did notice that the taumualua carry no paddles, for, Papalagi, I feel that the goddess may be for voyaging beneath the sea instead of moving over the waters. But just as I did look into my kinsman’s eyes in sorrow, the goddess did stand upright between us. She was as tall as a mast and as straight. Uplifting her robes and stretching her curved arms out like unto sails of a ship, the night wind did at once commence to softly blow. ”

“ Saying this, Kasawayo’s heart beat violently with joy at the thought that she might meet the handsome Kora once more.
Buli-buli looked up into her face for a long while, then said:
“The sun has dipped his head into the moani aili (ocean) ; the stars are marching across the plains of shadowland; go, Kasawayo, into the forest alone!”
Kasawayo jumped to her feet, delight shining in her dark eyes. As she passed out of the cavern, she looked over her shoulder to bid farewell to the god, but she only saw a huge serpent crawling on its spotted belly across the floor of the cave. ”

“ THE perspective of things as seen after a lapse of years seems gifted with a visionary light that has no relation to the normal outlook of the intellect. The most commonplace objects and incidents, when seen and thought over in the pale light of memory, become tinged with that indefinable glamour, that something which men call poetry. A wind-blown ship far at sea with trailing spars and torn sails beating its way into the sunset; a bird travelling silently across a foreign tropic sky; a wild girl singing by a lagoon; a dead tree tossing its arms on a windy hill ”

“ And to sit in a South Sea forest by moonlight and hear an old marsh-frog conduct an orchestra composed of the weird denizens of the forest—the Samoan nightingale 59wrapt in its green and bluish velvet robe, singing exquisitely as prima donna, the mosquitoes buzzing on their weird flutes, while the grey, swallow-tailed gnat, sitting on the tall fern-spray, sweeps majestic strains from its wondrous violin, as the old forest trees waltz—is a musical treat and sight to be ever remembered.
It is wonderful what we mortals can see and hear when we keep our inward ears and eyes wide open. ”

“ It seemed such a long time ere she touched the bottom of the ocean. Still the Cuttle-fish clutched her, and breathed heavily, like one who had gained a rich prize and dreaded to lose it. Dragging her along the ocean floor, he came to a cavern. For a moment the Cuttle-fish looked round, then took her in. This cavern was lit up by a faint glimmer from the light of the sun that was shining up over the sea. As Tissemao looked round, the Cuttle-fish said:
“I am all that’s beautiful; if you expect to see anything more beautiful than a cuttle-fish, you are very, very much mistaken.” ”

“ It was sunset, and when they all commenced to beat their drums violently, beating the stars in, it seemed that their hoarse, quaintly musical voices, wailed out, “Behold! we are the people! Creation hath nobly toiled through the ages till, lo! the blessed sun warms our aged bones as nature casts into our trembling hands digestible nuts and sweet-scented taro!”
Could I help liking the companionship of such happy, wise old philosophers?
Many of those old-time natives were endowed with wonderful poetic intellect. And I vow that such an intellect my old Samoan friend, O Le Tao, possessed. ”

“ Only for a few moments did they both stand wrapt in the ecstasy of their imagination. The forest winds sighed amorously through the branches of the ndralas, kissing Kasawayo’s shining tresses that hung around her like a tent as her form inclined towards Kora. Then, lo! the magic fingers of the winds, that were caressing Kasawayo’s tresses, accidentally brushed them against the bare knees of the inclining, impassioned Kora! At this the young chief, through the ecstatic joy of his feelings, lost his balance and, stumbling over a little twig, fell forward into the outstretched arms of Kasawayo! ”

“ Civilization fell from me like an immaculate tall hat knocked off one’s head with a brick. The stern, dull, drab colour of the world changed for me. The bright-winged katafa, the brown-robed O Le mao bird, and bronzed-winged Samoan doves became warm-throated goddesses sitting in the breadfruit 44trees over our heads, their eyes bright with discovery as I played heathenish melodies and Cenerita sang. I was happy enough, for I lived in a small native house all alone; it had two rooms and was allotted me by the kindness of O Le Tao. That hut was my tiny grand ancestral hall. ”

“ Dear me! goddess Tarioa am gone now and kiss that Ora Tua, a dead chief who am not tapu, but am mortal who once live up in world by the sea.’
“It was then that big gods all rush out of caves and run after goddess Tarioa and Ora Tua, so that they may not kiss again. But so big were their shoulders, all moving alonger underneath ocean water, that it make big waves tumble about up on sea beneath the stars; and so ’nother canoe that was filled with nicer Tahitian maidens knock on reefs and go to bottom of sea too! ”

“ The energy of the whole universe seemed to be wholly concentrated on one vital move on the tremendous chess-board of that phantasmal world of water whereon we drifted. O’Hara and I were the sorrowing slaves of Fate; nothing else existed, only he and I and the dreadful thought as to which one of us must put forth our hand and make that terrible move. It was inevitable that one of us must do it, for on those tropic seas there was no other way than to crawl out on the outrigger and push that small dead form into the vast depths that moved around us. The tropic moon loomed on the horizon. ”

“ Possibly I’ve been a heathen too, and have prostrated myself before an idol; I’m queer enough for anything. However that may be, I recall that I met O Le Tao next day. I was travelling along in the vicinity of Mount Vala. I had just had an appetizing meal of Bass’s Ale and monkey-nuts—and was feeling in good humour. Coco-palms, breadfruits, and other picturesque trees sheltered me from the hot sunlight and my banana-leaf socks hardly swished as I softly trod the beautifully woven carpet of flower and fern that Nature’s patient hand had spread across the forest floor. ”

“ The sun had risen and set thrice when the maids danced on the shore, all singing some song which they had learnt from the soft murmurings of a seashell. Each had clad her form in a small lava-lava that was made of seaweed and fastened by threaded grass about the loins. Standing on the big lumps of red coral, they all dived into the ocean, to come forth laughing, as the sea-water fell glistening from their tresses that half hid their soft feet. ‘Oh, how lovely this world really is!’ they said, as they lifted seashells to their ears, and, singing again, dived headlong into the ocean. ”

“ Knowing that the commonplace conception of reality does not exist at all, and that we mortals only see a nose, a mouth, a glance of the eyes—indeed, the Universe itself—in the relation that it assumes by contact with one’s inner self, I felt no wonder as Soogy danced beneath the moonlit palms, no Soogy at all, but a something weirdly beautiful dancing as I played the violin in the shadowland of my own mad eyes, a something that looked to me like two fallen stars fixed in a wonderful little receptacle called a skull poised on swaying, dusky limbs, and possessing a sweet-voiced tongue. ”

“ I instinctively knew that not only in those wild isles were men gifted with an imagination that made them have firm belief in all that they dreamed of over their own greatness. I half envied O Le Tao’s gifts—gifts he had so well utilized. For as he sat there I saw that he was enthroned on the heights of magnificent imagination and lived in the light of respect from all men’s eyes.
Such was O Le Tao’s story of the goddess Pafuto, as told me while the Samoan night doves moaned musically in the tamanu trees. ”

“ I knew that no pen, however inspired, could sing the impassioned philosophy of life as the throbbing red throat of the brown thrush can sing, or as O’Hara and I could live it. And, so, I must confess that the idea of the breadfruit sighing as we sat awaiting the sunset’s close and O’Hara impatiently watching for the favourable moment to abduct a Tahitian princess from a pagan palace on a South Sea isle, seemed the perfect music and the most noble endeavour of the Psalm of Life! ”

“ Fae Fae’s apparent wraith, with arms outspread, the body swerving with rhythmical beauty, was still flitting noiselessly round the small space, coming toward us!
“Keep back!” I whispered to O’Hara, who was staring over my shoulder, endeavouring to get a better glimpse of the figure. On she came, seemingly draped in veils of the moonlight that was falling through the overspreading, dark-fingered palm-leaves. Her lips had begun a chant, her head turned slightly sideways as on her tripping flight she approached and stared at the mighty, yellow-toothed, wooden deity. ”

“ An aged cockatoo who had spent its best years as a vassal of the god Atua Mao, looked sidelong at the golden gleams of the eastern sky and called out hoarsely:
“Talofa! Aloah! Awake, O birds of the forest! Morn is here! Arise!”
Now, all this happened in full view of a little heathen village by a mossy slope near Tai-o-hae. And who was it could see so strange a fairy-land in the birth of a new day breaking across the ranges? It was Tissemao, the Marquesan maid! ”

“ This Samoan lady had a child who was about four years old. He was an intelligent little fellow and had ocean-blue eyes and curly hair. When I sat up on my bed-mat, tinkling melodies on my violin, Ramao, for that was his name, would somersault with delight; then once again peep inside the F holes of my instrument to see where the music came from. Every day he would run off into the forest to pluck flowers for me, and would make my bed with soft moss, attending to my wants with the unremitting solicitude of a lovable, innocent child. ”

“ When we stood beneath the breadfruit trees, Tapee peered about to convince himself that we were unobserved. The shadows of night were falling across the rugged mountain slopes behind semi-pagan Papeete city. We could hear the tinkling of guitars, mandolines, and zithers coming from the Café Française that stood by the coco-palms near the main street of Papeete. The enchantment of fairy-land was destroyed by the cries of “Vive la France! Sacré!” as sunburnt gendarmes gazed, as only Frenchmen can gaze, into the lustrous eyes of the pretty “Belles Tahitians.” ”