- end_line
- 9569
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:15.153Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 9526
- text
- swell of the sea is prevented from breaking on the beach by an
encircling reef. No saline flavour is perceptible in the nut produced
in such a place. Although it bears in any soil, whether upland or
bottom, it does not flourish vigorously inland; and I have frequently
observed that, when met with far up the valley, its tall stem inclines
seaward, as if pining after a more genial region.
It is a curious fact that if you deprive the cocoa-nut tree of the
verdant tuft at its head, it dies at once; and if allowed to stand
thus, the trunk, which, when alive, is encased in so hard a bark as to
be almost impervious to a bullet, moulders away, and, in an incredibly
short period, becomes dust. This is, perhaps, partly owing to the
peculiar constitution of the trunk, a mere cylinder of minute hollow
reeds, closely packed, and very hard; but, when exposed at top,
peculiarly fitted to convey moisture and decay through the entire stem.
The finest orchard of cocoa-palms I know, and the only plantation of
them I ever saw at the islands, is one that stands right upon the
southern shore of Papeetee Bay. They were set out by the first Pomaree,
almost half a century ago; and the soil being especially adapted to
their growth, the noble trees now form a magnificent grove, nearly a
mile in extent. No other plant, scarcely a bush, is to be seen within
its precincts. The Broom Road passes through its entire length.
At noonday, this grove is one of the most beautiful, serene, witching
places that ever was seen. High overhead are ranges of green rustling
arches; through which the sun’s rays come down to you in sparkles. You
seem to be wandering through illimitable halls of pillars; everywhere
you catch glimpses of stately aisles, intersecting each other at all
points. A strange silence, too, reigns far and near; the air flushed
with the mellow stillness of a sunset.
But after the long morning calms, the sea-breeze comes in; and creeping
over the tops of these thousand trees, they nod their plumes. Soon the
breeze freshens; and you hear the branches brushing against each other;
and the flexible trunks begin to sway. Toward evening the whole grove
is rocking to and fro; and the traveller on the Broom Road is startled
by the frequent falling of the nuts, snapped from their brittle stems.
They come flying through the air, ringing like jugglers’ balls; and
often bound along the ground for many rods.
- title
- Chunk 5