The Cruise of the Kawa: Wanderings in the South Seas Part 4

[Ill.u.s.tration Note: HERMAN Sw.a.n.k

Since the exhibition of Herman Sw.a.n.k's South Sea Studies in the Graham Galleries, New York City, it is hardly necessary to introduce by name the ill.u.s.trious artist who has justly earned the t.i.tle of "Premier Painter of Polynesia." A whole school of painters have attempted to reproduce the exotic color and charm of these entrancing isles. It remained for Herman Sw.a.n.k, by his now famous method of diagrammatic symbolism, to bring the truth fully home. This he accomplished by living, to the limit, the native life of the Filbertese. Clad only in the light lamitu, or afternoon wrap of the islands, it was the artist's custom to spend entire days inhaling the perfume of the fragment alova flower, a practice which undoubtedly accounts for the far-away, dreamy expression so evident in the photograph. He is also wearing the paloota, or wedding crown, the gift of his lovely island bride.]

Let me briefly outline the Filbertine domestic arrangements as they were gradually unfolded to us. To begin with, make no mistake, marriage in the Filbert Islands is a distinct success. This is accomplished by the almost complete separation of the husband from his wives. During the day these joyous maids and matrons lead their own lives in their own community, rehearsing their songs, weaving chaplets of flowers, stringing pearls for their simple costumes, playing games and exchanging the badinage and gossip which are the life-breath of womanhood the world over. They are inordinately proud of their hair, as well they may be, and spend hours at a time dressing and undressing it.

The men, on their side, are equally free. The result is that a meeting with their wives is an event. Happiness, love and the elation of celebration are the harmonious notes of this beautiful domestic diapason.

Feast-days, banquets, picnics, swimming parties--the Filbertines adore salt water, which is not potable but thirst-producing--these are the occasions of a frank and joyous mingling of the s.e.xes.

Before we left the clearing we were treated to a most graceful spectacle, a performance of the _Ataboi_, a dance descriptive of the growth and blossoming of the _alova_ flower. This was performed by seven beautiful girls to an accompaniment of song and clapping. The plaintive love-motif was unmistakably introduced by a deep-chested dame who played on the _bazoola_, a primitive instrument fashioned from the stalk of the figwort (_Scrophulariaceae_). It may interest music lovers to know that the Filbertines employ the diatetic scale exclusively, four notes in the ascent and five on the recoil.

At the close of the performance we were shown the nursery compound, an enclosure teeming with beautiful children, screened by hedges where the little ones could be heard but not seen.

Two days subsequent to our amble we were invited to a grand banquet which led to disturbing problems and momentous decision on our part.

This feast was our formal welcome; the keys of the islands, so to speak, were presented to us. There were ladies present--and everything.

It was served in a special clearing lighted by the moon and countless _anchoridae_ tied by their legs in festoons, a procedure which causes them to open and shut their lambent eyes very rapidly, and gave a quaint cinema effect to the scene. After counting the courses up to twenty-seven I lost as each was accompanied by a new brand of island potion. Fortunately we were seated on the ground.

Triplett was in his glory. If I have failed to mention recently our hard-bitten old navigator it is only because we had seen comparatively little of him. Resting on his t.i.tular dignity as chief he seldom appeared in public, spending most of his time up his tree snoozing or reading an old copy of the New Bedford "Argus," which he was never without. Tonight, however, he blazed forth in full regalia, wearing his best blue marble, his visor-cap wreathed with nabiscus blossoms, his case-hardened countenance lighted with conviviality. Following an interminable period of eating and drinking came a long speech by Baahaabaa which, like most after-dinner speeches, meant nothing to me.

Captain Triplett replied. The gist of Triplett's remarks, memorized from the "Argus," were taken from the 1916 report of the New Bedford Board of Trade. When he proclaimed that "besides cotton goods, 100,000 pianos were turned out yearly and 8,500 derby hats every day," his audience, set off by Whinney, burst into uproarious applause. The climax was reached when he lowered his voice dramatically and said, "And keep always in mind, O Baahaabaa and friends, that the New England Fur Company uses daily 35,000 rabbit pelts! Gentlemen, I thank you."

Pandemonium broke loose. Triplett was showered with congratulations.

Music and dancing followed, among others an amazing performance by a st.u.r.dy youth, Zambao-Zambino (Young-Man-Proud-of-His-Waist-Line) who rendered a solo by striking his distended anatomy with his clenched fist, varying the tone by relaxing or tightening the abdominal muscles.

Whinney sang a very dreary arrangement of "Mandalay"--his one parlor trick; Sw.a.n.k did an imitation of Elsie Janis's imitation of Ethel Barrymore and I sang "The Wreck of the Julie Plante," an amusing ballad describing the loss by drowning of an entire ship's company.

But the climax was yet to come.

There was a vague sort of commotion among the banqueters and Baahaabaa rose with amazing steadiness and made another speech, short this time, but aimed point-blank at us, after which, through the center of a sort of kick-off formation I saw approaching four of the most exquisite women in the world. When ten feet away they fell on all fours and, using the Australian crawl-stroke, crept slowly toward us, exhaling sounds of pa.s.sionate endearment mingled with the heart-stopping fragrance of _alova_. Beyond the glimmering lights, an unseen choir burst into the "a-a-a" of the national love-song.

It was a critical not to say embarra.s.sing moment. These lovely ladies were very evidently presents, banquet-favors so to speak, which we were expected to take home with us. To refuse them meant certain offense, perhaps death. Triplett was plainly non-plussed. Sw.a.n.k and Whinney were too far gone to be of any a.s.sistance. Summoning all my reserve strength I rose and faced the whirling a.s.sembly.

"Gentlemen," I said solemnly, "one final toast, to the President of the United States,"--at the same time draining a huge sh.e.l.l of _hoopa_.

My companions followed suit and we fell simultaneously.

For the next twenty-four hours we were safe. After that, who knew?

CHAPTER V

A frank statement. We vote on the question of matrimony. A triple wedding. An epithalmic verse. We remember the "Kawa." An interview with William Henry Thomas. Triplett's strategy. Safe within the atoll.

In most volumes on the South Seas the chapter which I am about to write would be omitted. I mean to say that we have reached a point in my narrative in which the status of our relations with the Filbertine women, as such, must either be discussed frankly and openly, or treated in the usual tongue-in-cheek fashion which seems to be the proper thing with English and American writers.

I have looked them all over carefully (the writers, I mean), and find them divided into two categories, those who take their wives along as a guarantee of virtue, or those who are by nature Galahads, Parsifals and St. Anthonys. This latter group is to me particularly trying. They revel in descriptions of desirous damsels with burning eyes who crave companionship, but when an artfully devised encounter throws one of these pa.s.sionate persons across the path of the man behind the pen, does he falter or swerve or make a misstep? Never. Right there is where the blood of the Galahads tells. Supremely he rises above temptation!

Gracefully he sidesteps! Innocently he falls asleep!

I don't believe a word of it. I think it's just a case of literary men sticking together.

Two days after the Grand Banquet described in the last chapter, Whinney, Sw.a.n.k and I awoke with a sigh of simultaneous satisfaction, completely rested and restored. Ten minutes later we were engaged in a brisk debate in which the question before the house was, stated boldly, Should we or should we not "go native?" In other words, should we hold ourselves aloof, live contrary to the customs of the country and mortally offend our hosts,--to say nothing of our hostesses,--or should we fulfil our destinies, take unto ourselves island brides and eat our equatorial fruit, core and all?

For the purpose of discussion Whinney was designated to uphold the negative, and for an hour we argued the matter pro and con. Whinney advanced a number of arguments, the difference in our nationalities, our standing in our home communities (which I thought an especially weak point), our lack of a common language, and several other trivial objections, all of which Sw.a.n.k and I demolished until Whinney got peevish and insisted that he and I change sides.

I spoke very seriously of the lack of precedent for the step which we were considering and of what my people in Derby, Conn., would say when they learned that a Traprock had married a Filbert. Sw.a.n.k replied with some heat that he didn't believe that anything could be said in Derby that hadn't been said already and Whinney was much more eloquent on the affirmative than he had been on the negative. Finally when I thought we had talked enough I said--

"Well, gentlemen, are you ready for a ballot?"

"We are," said Sw.a.n.k and Whinney.

"Remember," I warned, "The green nuts are for the affirmative,--the black ones for the negative. Secret ballots, of course."

Wrapping our votes in _metani_ leaves we dropped them in the ballot sh.e.l.l. Whinney was teller. It was an anxious moment until he looked up and said with a hysterical quiver in his voice:

"Unanimously green."

"Let's go!" shouted Sw.a.n.k, but I stopped him.

"Hold on," I said. "Triplett is in on this. We agreed that it must be unanimous."

My companions' faces lengthened like barrel-staves.

"d.a.m.n," muttered Whinney. "I hadn't thought of him."

You can imagine our disgust when we interviewed the Captain.

"Not on your life!" he said decidedly. "Why, boys, I got two a 'em a-ready, one in Noo Bedford--she's my lawful,--and one--a sort of 'erdeependence, in Sausalito. But boys, I don't go for to commit trigonometry, no sir!"

Thunder rested on our brows but the Captain continued,--

"But you--you boys, you ain't married, leastways if you are I don't know about it, and if you ain't"--he looked at us severely,--"if you ain't, it's high time you was. And what's more, if you want to be, I kin do it for you." "What do you mean?" we gasped.

"Justice of the peace," he said proudly, "dooly signed and registered in Dartmouth County, Ma.s.s."

We were overwhelmed. This was more than we dared hope for,--more than we had even dreamed of!

"Now, boys," said the Captain in a fatherly tone, "lemme tell you something. While I've been a-roostin' up here in my perch, I've been a-watchin' you boys; a-watchin' an' a-worryin'. What have you been a-doin'? You've been a-raisin' h.e.l.l, you have. Son, you ain't a rote a word, have yer? An' you, Whinney--boy, you ain't ketched a bug nor a beetle, have yer? And you, ole Sw.a.n.ko-panko, you ain't drawed a line, have yer?"

We hung our heads like schoolboys before the master. Of course if Triplett put it that way, on moral grounds, so to speak, there was no more to be said.

"Well, what's the answer?" he continued. "It's time you got married an' settled down, ain't it? When is it to be?"

It was a triple wedding, the first and probably the last in the Filbert Islands, and one of the most charming affairs I have ever seen. We left the selection of our brides to Baahaabaa and, believe me, he showed himself a master-picker. The ceremony took place on the beach at high midnight, the fashionable island hour.

How happy we all were! Triplett's qualifications had completely cleared the atmosphere of any moral misgivings which might have clouded the beauty of the gorgeous tropical night. The Captain read a service of his own composition full of legal whereases and aforesaids and containing one reference to the laws of the Commonwealth of the State of Ma.s.sachusetts which struck me as rather far-fetched but which under the circ.u.mstances I decided to let pa.s.s.