Silent he entered the water, and silently swam, and came There where the fisher walked, holding on high the flame.
Loud on the pier of the reef volleyed the breach of the sea;And hard at the back of the man, Rahero crept to his knee On the coral, and suddenly sprang and seized him, the elder hand Clutching the joint of his throat, the other snatching the brand Ere it had time to fall, and holding it steady and high.
Strong was the fisher, brave, and swift of mind and of eye -Strongly he threw in the clutch; but Rahero resisted the strain, And jerked, and the spine of life snapped with a crack in twain, And the man came slack in his hands and tumbled a lump at his feet.
One moment: and there, on the reef, where the breakers whitened and beat, Rahero was standing alone, glowing and scorched and bare, A victor unknown of any, raising the torch in the air.
But once he drank of his breath, and instantly set him to fish Like a man intent upon supper at home and a savoury dish.
For what should the woman have seen? A man with a torch - and then 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 employed by a chief, or king; and it would then be a part of his duties to purvey the victim for sacrifice. One of the doomed families was indicated; the aito took his weapon and went forth alone; a little behind him bearers followed with the sacrificial basket. Sometimes the victim showed fight, sometimes prevailed; more often, without doubt, he fell. But whatever body was found, the bearers indifferently took up.
Note 2, "PAI," "HONOURA," and "AHUPU." Legendary persons of Tahiti, all natives of Taiarapu. Of the first two, I have collected singular although imperfect legends, which I hope soon to lay before the public in another place. Of Ahupu, except in snatches of song, little memory appears to linger.
