whites came, not in all Polynesia. It was the humor of the explorers,
the first adventurers, and all succeeding ones, to teach them to like
alcohol, and to hold their liquor like Englishmen or Americans. Kings
and queens, chiefs and chiefesses, priests and warriors, were sent
ashore crapulous in many a jolly-boat, or paddled their own canoes,
after areareas on war-ships and merchantmen. Some learned to like
liquor, and French saloons in Papeete and throughout Tahiti and Moorea
encouraged the taste. Profits, as ever under the business rule of
the world overweighed morals or health.

These girls in our bower drank sparingly of wine, but needed no
artificial spirits to spur their own. Music runs like fire through
their veins.

Iromea of the Tiare Hotel--perhaps some of Lovaina's maidens knew our
plans and came over on the packet--took the accordion from Kelly. She
began to play, and two of the Moorea men joined her, one with a pair
of tablespoons and the other with an empty gasolene-can. The holder
of the spoons jingled them in perfect harmony with the accordion, and
the can-operator tapped and thumped the tin, so that the three made
a singular and tingling music. It had a timbre that got under one's
skin and pulsated one's nerves, arousing dormant desires. I felt like
leaping into the arena and showing them my mettle on alternate feet,
but a Moorea beauty anticipated me.

She placed herself before the proud Llewellyn, half of her own blood,
and began an upaupahura. She postured before him in an attitude of
love, and commenced an improvisation in song about him. She praised
his descent from his mother, his strength, his capacity for rum,
and especially his power over women. He was own brother to the great