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- dress, and far fresher and more beautiful than the damsels of the
coast. A thousand pities, thought I, that they should bury their charms
in this nook of a valley.
That night we abode in the house of Rartoo, a hospitable old chief. It
was right on the shore of the lake; and at supper we looked out through
a rustling screen of foliage upon the surface of the starlit water.
The next day we rambled about, and found a happy little community,
comparatively free from many deplorable evils to which the rest of
their countrymen are subject. Their time, too, was more occupied. To my
surprise, the manufacture of tappa was going on in several buildings.
European calicoes were seldom seen, and not many articles of foreign
origin of any description.
The people of Tamai were nominally Christians; but being so remote from
ecclesiastical jurisdiction, their religion sat lightly upon them. We
had been told, even, that many heathenish games and dances still
secretly lingered in their valley.
Now the prospect of seeing an old-fashioned “hevar,” or Tahitian reel,
was one of the inducements which brought us here; and so, finding
Rartoo rather liberal in his religious ideas, we disclosed our desire.
At first he demurred; and shrugging his shoulders like a Frenchman,
declared it could not be brought about—was a dangerous matter to
attempt, and might bring all concerned into trouble. But we overcame
all this, convinced him that the thing could be done, and a “hevar,” a
genuine pagan fandango, was arranged for that very night.
CHAPTER LXIII.
A DANCE IN THE VALLEY
There were some ill-natured people—tell-tales—it seemed, in Tamai; and
hence there was a deal of mystery about getting up the dance.
An hour or two before midnight, Rartoo entered the house, and, throwing
robes of tappa over us, bade us follow at a distance behind him; and,
until out of the village, hood our faces. Keenly alive to the
adventure, we obeyed. At last, after taking a wide circuit, we came out
upon the farthest shore of the lake. It was a wide, dewy, space;
lighted up by a full moon, and carpeted with a minute species of fern
growing closely together. It swept right down to the water, showing the
village opposite, glistening among the groves.
Near the trees, on one side of the clear space, was a ruinous pile of
stones many rods in extent; upon which had formerly stood a temple of
Oro. At present, there was nothing but a rude hut, planted on the
lowermost terrace. It seemed to have been used as a “tappa herree,” or
house for making the native cloth.
Here we saw lights gleaming from between the bamboos, and casting long,
rod-like shadows upon the ground without. Voices also were heard. We
went up, and had a peep at the dancers who were getting ready for the
ballet. They were some twenty in number;-waited upon by hideous old
crones, who might have been duennas. Long Ghost proposed to send the
latter packing; but Rartoo said it would never do, and so they were
permitted to remain.
We tried to effect an entrance at the door, which was fastened; but,
after a noisy discussion with one of the old witches within, our guide
became fidgety, and, at last, told us to desist, or we would spoil all.
He then led us off to a distance to await the performance; as the
girls, he said, did not wish to be recognized. He, furthermore, made us
promise to remain where we were until all was over, and the dancers had
retired.
We waited impatiently; and, at last, they came forth. They were arrayed
in short tunics of white tappa; with garlands of flowers on their
heads. Following them were the duennas, who remained clustering about
the house, while the girls advanced a few paces; and, in an instant,
two of them, taller than their companions, were standing, side by side,
in the middle of a ring formed by the clasped hands of the rest. This
movement was made in perfect silence.
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