CHAPTER XIV.

AT TAHITI.

_The cava feast, the yam, the cocoa's root,_
_Which bears at once the cup, and milk, and fruit,_
_The bread-tree which, without the ploughshare, yields_
_The unreap'd harvest of unfurrowed fields._

* * * * *

_These, with the luxuries of seas and woods,_
_The airy joys of social solitudes,_
_Tamed each rude wanderer._


[Illustration: Under the Trees, Papeete]

_Saturday, December 2nd_.--The anchor was dropped in the harbour of
Papeete at nine o'clock, and a couple of hours later, by which time
the weather had cleared, we went ashore, and at once found ourselves
in the midst of a fairy-like scene, to describe which is almost
impossible, so bewildering is it in the brightness and variety of its
colouring. The magnolias and yellow and scarlet hibiscus,
overshadowing the water, the velvety turf, on to which one steps from
the boat, the white road running between rows of wooden houses, whose
little gardens are a mass of flowers, the men and women clad in the
gayest robes and decked with flowers, the piles of unfamiliar fruit
lying on the grass, waiting to be transported to the coasting vessels