A moment's blur of the eyes - and a man with a torch again.
And the torch had scarcely been
shaken. "Ah, surely," Rahero said,
"She will deem it a trick of the eyes, a fancy born in the head;
But time must be given the fool to
nourish a fool's belief."
So for a while, a sedulous
fisher, he walked the reef,
Pausing at times and gazing,
striking at times with the spear:
- Lastly, uttered the call; and even as the boat drew near,
Like a man that was done with its use, tossed the torch in the sea.
Lightly he leaped on the boat beside the woman; and she
Lightly addressed him, and yielded the
paddle and place to sit;
For now the torch was extinguished the night was black as the pit
Rahero set him to row, never a word he spoke,
And the boat sang in the water urged by his
vigorous stroke.
- "What ails you?" the woman asked, "and why did you drop the brand?
We have only to
kindle another as soon as we come to land."
Never a word Rahero replied, but urged the canoe.
And a chill fell on the woman. - "Atta! speak! is it you?
Speak! Why are you silent? Why do you bend aside?
Wherefore steer to the seaward?" thus she panted and cried.
Never a word from the oarsman, toiling there in the dark;
But right for a gate of the reef he
silently headed the bark,
And wielding the single
paddle with
passionate sweep on sweep,
Drove her, the little fitted, forth on the open deep.
And fear, there where she sat, froze the woman to stone:
Not fear of the crazy boat and the weltering deep alone;
But a keener fear of the night, the dark, and the
ghostly hour,
And the thing that drove the canoe with more than a mortal's power
And more than a mortal's
boldness. For much she knew of the dead
That haunt and fish upon reefs, toiling, like men, for bread,
And
traffic with human
fishers, or slay them and take their ware,
Till the hour when the star of the dead (15) goes down, and the morning air
Blows, and the cocks are singing on shore. And surely she knew
The
speechless thing at her side belonged to the grave. (16)
It blew
All night from the south; all night, Rahero contended and kept
The prow to the cresting sea; and, silent as though she slept,
The woman huddled and quaked. And now was the peep of day.
High and long on their left the
mountainous island lay;
And over the peaks of Taiarapu arrows of
sunlight struck.
On shore the birds were
beginning to sing: the
ghostly ruck
Of the buried had long ago returned to the covered grave;
And here on the sea, the woman, waxing suddenly brave,
Turned her
swiftly about and looked in the face of the man.
And sure he was none that she knew, none of her country or clan:
A stranger, mother-naked, and marred with the marks of fire,
But
comely and great of
stature, a man to obey and admire.
And Rahero regarded her also, fixed, with a frowning face,
Judging the woman's
fitness to mother a
warlike race.
Broad of shoulder, ample of
girdle, long in the thigh,
Deep of bosom she was, and
bravely supported his eye.
"Woman," said he, "last night the men of your folk -
Man, woman, and maid, smothered my race in smoke.
It was done like cowards; and I, a
mighty man of my hands,
Escaped, a single life; and now to the empty lands
And smokeless hearths of my people, sail, with yourself, alone.
Before your mother was born, the die of to-day was thrown
And you selected:- your husband,
vainly striving, to fall
Broken between these hands:- yourself to be severed from all,
The places, the people, you love - home,
kindred, and clan -
And to dwell in a desert and bear the babes of a kinless man."
NOTES TO THE SONG OF RAHERO
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, "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