On the platform Tehei and Bihaura danced, accompanied by songs and choruses or by rhythmic hand-clappings.At other times a musical knocking of the paddles against the sides of the canoes marked the accent.A young girl dropped her paddle, leaped to the platform, and danced a hula, in the midst of which, still dancing, she swayed and bent, and imprinted on our cheeks the kiss of welcome.Some of the songs, or himines, were religious, and they were especially beautiful, the deep basses of the men mingling with the altos and thin sopranos of the women and forming a combination of sound that irresistibly reminded one of an organ.In fact, "kanaka organ" is the scoffer's description of the himine.On the other hand, some of the chants or ballads were very barbaric, having come down from pre-Christian times.
And so, singing, dancing, paddling, these joyous Polynesians took us to the fishing.The gendarme, who is the French ruler of Bora Bora, accompanied us with his family in a double canoe of his own, paddled by his prisoners; for not only is he gendarme and ruler, but he is jailer as well, and in this jolly land when anybody goes fishing, all go fishing.A score of single canoes, with outriggers, paddled along with us.Around a point a big sailing-canoe appeared, running beautifully before the wind as it bore down to greet us.Balancing precariously on the outrigger, three young men saluted us with a wild rolling of drums.
The next point, half a mile farther on, brought us to the place of meeting.Here the launch, which had been brought along by Warren and Martin, attracted much attention.The Bora Borans could not see what made it go.The canoes were drawn upon the sand, and all hands went ashore to drink cocoanuts and sing and dance.Here our numbers were added to by many who arrived on foot from near-by dwellings, and a pretty sight it was to see the flower-crowned maidens, hand in hand and two by two, arriving along the sands.
"They usually make a big catch," Allicot, a half-caste trader, told us."At the finish the water is fairly alive with fish.It is lots of fun.Of course you know all the fish will be yours.""All?" I groaned, for already the Snark was loaded down with lavish presents, by the canoe-load, of fruits, vegetables, pigs, and chickens.
"Yes, every last fish," Allicot answered."You see, when the surround is completed, you, being the guest of honour, must take a harpoon and impale the first one.It is the custom.Then everybody goes in with their hands and throws the catch out on the sand.
There will be a mountain of them.Then one of the chiefs will make a speech in which he presents you with the whole kit and boodle.
But you don't have to take them all.You get up and make a speech, selecting what fish you want for yourself and presenting all the rest back again.Then everybody says you are very generous.""But what would be the result if I kept the whole present?" I asked.
"It has never happened," was the answer."It is the custom to give and give back again."The native minister started with a prayer for success in the fishing, and all heads were bared.Next, the chief fishermen told off the canoes and allotted them their places.Then it was into the canoes and away.No women, however, came along, with the exception of Bihaura and Charmian.In the old days even they would have been tabooed.The women remained behind to wade out into the water and form the palisade of legs.
