Chapter VIII: Introduction: This tale, of which I have not consciously changed a

single feature, I received from tradition. It is highly popular through all the country of the eight Tevas, the clan to which Rahero belonged; and particularly in Taiarapu, the windward peninsula of Tahiti, where he lived. I have heard from end to end two versions; and as many as five different persons have helped me with details. There seems no reason why the tale should not be true.

Note 1, page 140. "_The aito_", _quasi_ champion, or brave. One skilled in the use of some weapon, who wandered the country challenging distinguished rivals and taking part in local quarrels. It was in the natural course of his advancement to be at last employed by a chief, or king; and it would then be a part of his duties to purvey the victim for sacrifice. One of the doomed families was indicated; the aito took his weapon and went forth alone; a little behind him bearers followed with the sacrificial basket. Sometimes the victim showed fight, sometimes prevailed; more often, without doubt, he fell. But whatever body was found, the bearers indifferently took up.

Note 2, page 141. "_Pai_", "_Honoura_", and "_Ahupu_". Legendary persons of Tahiti, all natives of Taiarapu. Of the first two I have collected singular although imperfect legends, which I hope soon to lay before the public in another place. Of Ahupu, except in snatches of song, little memory appears to linger. She dwelt at least about Tepari,--"the sea-cliffs,"--the eastern fastness of the isle; walked by paths known only to herself upon the mountains; was courted by dangerous suitors who came swimming from adjacent islands, and defended and rescued (as I gather) by the loyalty of native fish. My anxiety to learn more of "Ahupu Vehine" became (during my stay in Taiarapu) a cause of some diversion to that mirthful people, the inhabitants.

Note 3, page 142. "_Covered an oven._" The cooking fire is made in a hole in the ground, and is then buried.

Note 4, page 143. "_Flies._" This is perhaps an anachronism. Even speaking of to-day in Tahiti, the phrase would have to be understood as referring mainly to mosquitoes, and these only in watered valleys with close woods, such as I suppose to form the surroundings of Rahero's homestead. A quarter of a mile away, where the air moves freely, you shall look in vain for one.

Note 5, page 144. "_Hook_" of mother-of-pearl. Bright-hook fishing, and that with the spear, appear to be the favourite native methods.

Note 6, page 145. "_Leaves_," the plates of Tahiti.

Note 7, page 146. "_Yottowas_," so spelt for convenience of pronunciation, _quasi_ Tacksmen in the Scottish Highlands. The organisation of eight sub-districts and eight yottowas to a division, which was in use (until yesterday) among the Tevas, I have attributed without authority to the next clan (see page 155).

Note 8, page 146. "_Omare_," pronounce as a dactyl. A loaded quarterstaff, one of the two favourite weapons of the Tahitian brave; the javelin, or casting spear, was the other.

Note 9, page 148. "_The ribbon of light._" Still to be seen (and heard) spinning from one marae to another on Tahiti; or so I have it upon evidence that would rejoice the Psychical Society.

Note 10, page 149. "_Namunu-ura._" The complete name is Namunu-ura te aropa. Why it should be pronounced Namunu, dactylically, I cannot see, but so I have always heard it. This was the clan immediately beyond the Tevas on the south coast of the island. At the date of the tale the clan organisation must have been very weak. There is no particular mention of Tamatea's mother going to Papara, to the head chief of her own clan, which would appear her natural recourse. On the other hand, she seems to have visited various lesser chiefs among the Tevas, and these to have excused themselves solely on the danger of the enterprise. The broad distinction here drawn between Nateva and Namunu-ura is therefore not impossibly anachronistic.

Note 11, page 149. "_Hiopa the king._" Hiopa was really the name of the king (chief) of Vaiau; but I could never learn that of the king of Paea--pronounce to rhyme with the Indian _ayah_--and I gave the name where it was most needed. This note must appear otiose indeed to readers who have never heard of either of these two gentlemen; and perhaps there is only one person in the world capable at once of reading my verses and spying the inaccuracy. For him, for Mr. Tati Salmon, hereditary high chief of the Tevas, the note is solely written: a small attention from a clansman to his chief.

Note 12, page 150. "_Let the pigs be tapu._" It is impossible to explain _tapu_ in a note; we have it as an English word, taboo. Suffice it, that a thing which was _tapu_ must not be touched, nor a place that was _tapu_ visited.

Note 13, page 155. "_Fish, the food of desire._" There is a special word in the Tahitian language to signify _hungering after fish_. I may remark that here is one of my chief difficulties about the whole story. How did king, commons, women, and all come to eat together at this feast? But it troubled none of my numerous authorities; so there must certainly be some natural explanation.

Note 14, page 160. "_The mustering word of the clan._"

_Teva te ua,
Teva te matai!_

Teva the wind,
Teva the rain!

Notes 15 and 16, page 165. "_The star of the dead._" Venus as a morning star. I have collected much curious evidence as to this belief. The dead retain their taste for a fish diet, enter into copartnery with living fishers, and haunt the reef and the lagoon. The conclusion attributed to the nameless lady of the legend would be reached to-day, under the like circumstances, by ninety per cent. of Polynesians: and here I probably under-state by one-tenth.

NOTES TO THE FEAST OF FAMINE

In this ballad I have strung together some of the more striking particularities of the Marquesas. It rests upon no authority; it is in no sense, like "Rahero," a native story; but a patchwork of details of manners and the impressions of a traveller. It may seem strange, when the scene is laid upon these profligate islands, to make the story hinge on love. But love is not less known in the Marquesas than elsewhere; nor is there any cause of suicide more common in the islands.

Note 1, page 169. "_Pit of popoi._" Where the bread-fruit was stored for preservation.

Note 2, page 169. "_Ruby-red._" The priest's eyes were probably red from the abuse of kava. His beard (_ib._) is said to be worth an estate; for the beards of old men are the favourite head-adornment of the Marquesans, as the hair of women formed their most costly girdle. The former, among this generally beardless and short-lived people, fetch to-day considerable sums.

Note 3, page 169. "_Tikis._" The tiki is an ugly image hewn out of wood or stone.

Note 4, page 172. "_The one-stringed harp._" Usually employed for serenades.

Note 5, page 173. "_The sacred cabin of palm._" Which, however, no woman could approach. I do not know where women were tattooed; probably in the common house, or in the bush, for a woman was a creature of small account. I must guard the reader against supposing Taheia was at all disfigured; the art of the Marquesan tattooer is extreme; and she would appear to be clothed in a web of lace, inimitably delicate, exquisite in pattern, and of a bluish hue that at once contrasts and harmonises with the warm pigment of the native skin. It would be hard to find a woman more becomingly adorned than "a well-tattooed" Marquesan.

Note 6, page 175. "_The horror of night._" The Polynesian fear of ghosts and of the dark has been already referred to. Their life is beleaguered by the dead.

Note 7, page 176. "_The quiet passage of souls._" So, I am told, the natives explain the sound of a little wind passing overhead unfelt.

Note 8, page 178. "_The first of the victims fell._" Without doubt, this whole scene is untrue to fact. The victims were disposed of privately and some time before. And indeed I am far from claiming the credit of any high degree of accuracy for this ballad. Even in the time of famine, it is probable that Marquesan life went far more gaily than is here represented. But the melancholy of to-day lies on the writer's mind.

NOTES TO TICONDEROGA