Tracks Of A Rolling Stone by Henry J. Coke (free e reader txt) 📖
- Author: Henry J. Coke
Book online «Tracks Of A Rolling Stone by Henry J. Coke (free e reader txt) 📖». Author Henry J. Coke
A Long Prefatory Oration, Of The Object Of The Ceremony.
Taking One Of Us By The Hand (I Thought The Peppery Old
General Would Have Thrust Him Aside), Mr. Wiley Told The King
That It Was Seldom The Sandwich Islands Were 'Veesited' By
Strangers Of Such 'Desteenction' - That The Duke Of This
(Referring To Fred's Relations), And Lord The Other, Were The
Greatest Noblemen In The World; Then, With Much Solemnity,
Quoted A Long Speech From Shakespeare, And Handed Us Over To
His Rival.
His Majesty, Who Did Not Understand A Word Of English, Or
Scotch, Looked Grave And Held Tight To The Arm Of The Throne;
For The Truth Is, That Although He Had Relinquished His
Bottle For The Hour, He Had Brought Its Contents With Him.
My Salaam Was Soon Made; But As I Retired Backwards I Had The
Misfortune To Set My Heel On The Toes Of A Black-And-Tan
Terrier, A Privileged Pet Of The General's. The Shriek Of
The Animal And The Loss Of My Equilibrium Nearly Precipitated
Me Into The Arms Of A Trousered Princess; But The Amiable
Young Lady Only Laughed. Thus Ended My Glimpse Of The
Hawaian Court. Mr. Wiley Afterwards Remarked To Me: 'We Do
Things In A Humble Way, Ye'll Obsairve; But Royalty Is
Royalty All Over The World, And His Majesty Tamehameha Is As
Much Keng Of His Ain Domeenions As Victoria Is Queen Of
Breetain.' The Relativity Of Greatness Was Not To Be Denied.
The Men - Kanakas, As They Are Called - Are Fine Stalwart
Fellows Above Our Average Height. The Only Clothing They
Then Wore Was The Maro, A Cloth Made By Themselves Of The
Acacia Bark. This They Pass Between The Legs, And Once Or
Twice Round The Loins. The Wyheenes - Women - Formerly Wore
Nothing But A Short Petticoat Or Kilt Of The Same Material.
By Persuasion Of The Missionaries They Have Exchanged This
Simple Garment For A Chemise Of Printed Calico, With The
Waist Immediately Under The Arms So As To Conceal The Contour
Of The Figure. Other Clothing Have They None.
Are They The More Chaste? Are They The Less Seductive -?
Hear What M. Anatole France Says In His Apostrophe To The
Sex: 'Pour Faire De Vous La Terrible Merveille Que Vous Etes
Aujourd'hui, Pour Devenir La Cause Indifferente Et Souveraine
Des Sacrifices Et Des Crimes, Il Vous A Fallu Deux Choses:
La Civilisation Qui Vous Donna Des Voiles, Et La Religion Qui
Vous Donna Des Scrupules.' The Translation Of Which Is
(Please Take Note Of It, My Dear Young Ladies With 'Les
Epaules Qui Ne Finissent Pas'):
Chapter 30 Pg 161
'Heard Melodies Are Sweet, But Those Unheard
Are Sweeter.'
Be This As It May, These Chocolate-Skinned Beauties, With
Their Small And Regular Features, Their Rosy Lips, Their
Perfect Teeth - Of Which They Take Great Care - Their
Luxurious Silky Tresses, Their Pretty Little Hands And Naked
Feet, And Their Exquisite Forms, Would Match The Matchless
Cleopatra.
Through The Kindness Of Fred's Host, The Principal Merchant
In The Island, We Were Offered An Opportunity Of Becoming
Acquainted With The Elite Of The Honolulu Nymphs. Mr. S.
Invited Us To What Is Called A Loohou Feast Got Up By Him For
Their Entertainment. The Head Of One Of The Most Picturesque
Valleys In Woahoo Was Selected For The Celebration Of This
Ancient Festival. Mounted On Horses With Which Mr. S. Had
Furnished Us, We Repaired In A Party To The Appointed Spot.
It Was Early In The Afternoon When We Reached It; None Of The
Guests Had Arrived, Excepting A Few Kanakas, Who Were Engaged
In Thatching An Old Shed As Shelter From The Sun, And
Strewing The Ground With A Thick Carpet Of Palm-Leaves. Ere
Long, A Cavalcade Of Between Thirty And Forty Amazons - They
All Rode Astride - Came Racing Up The Valley At Full Speed,
Their Merry Shouts Proclaiming Their Approach. Gaudy Strips
Of Maro Were Loosely Folded Around Their Legs For Skirts.
Their Pretty Little Straw Hats Trimmed With Ribbons, Or Their
Uncovered Heads With Their Long Hair Streaming In The Wind,
Confined Only By A Wreath Of Fresh Orange Flowers, Added To
Their Irresistible Charm. Certainly, The Bravest Soldiers
Could Not Have Withstood Their Charge. No Men, However, Were
Admitted, Save Those Who Had Been Expressly Invited; But Each
Lady Of Importance Was Given A Carte Blanche To Bring As Many
Of Her Own Sex As She Pleased, Provided They Were Both Pretty
And Respectable.
As They Rode Up, We Cavaliers, With Becoming Gallantry,
Offered Our Assistance While They Dismounted. Smitten
Through And Through By The Bright Eyes Of One Little Houri
Who Possessed Far More Than Her Share Of The First
Requirement, And, Taking The Second For Granted, I
Courteously Prepared To Aid Her To Alight; When, To My
Discomfiture, Instead Of A Gracious Acknowledgment Of My
Services, She Gave Me A Sharp Cut With Her Whip. As,
However, She Laughed Merrily At My Wry Faces, I Accepted The
Act As A Scratch Of The Kitten's Claws; At Least, It Was No
Chapter 30 Pg 162Sign Of Indifference, And Giving Myself The Benefit Of The
Doubt, Lifted Her From Her Saddle Without Further
Chastisement, Except A Coquettish Smile That Wounded, Alas!
More Than It Healed.
The Feast Was Thus Prepared: Poultry, Sucking-Pigs, And
Puppies - The Last, After Being Scalded And Scraped, Were
Stuffed With Vegetables And Spices, Rolled In Plantain
Leaves, And Placed In The Ground Upon Stones Already Heated.
More Stones Were Then Laid Over Them, And Fires Lighted On
The Top Of All. While The Cooking Was In Progress, The
Kanakas Ground Taro Roots For The Paste Called 'Poe'; The
Girls Danced And Sang. The Songs Were Devoid Of Melody,
Being Musical Recitations Of Imaginary Love Adventures,
Accompanied By Swayings Of The Body And Occasional Choral
Interruptions, All Becoming More And More Excited As The
Story Or Song Approached Its Natural Climax. Sometimes This
Was Varied By A Solitary Dancer Starting From The Circle, And
Performing The Wildest Bacchanalian Antics, To The Vocal
Incitement Of The Rest. This Only Ended With Physical
Exhaustion, Or Collapse From Feminine Hysteria.
The Food Was Excellent; The Stuffed Puppy Was A Dish For An
Epicure. Though Knives And Forks Were Unknown, And Each
Helped Herself From The Plantain Leaf, One Had Not The Least
Objection To Do Likewise, For The Most Scrupulous Cleanliness
Is One Of The Many Merits Of These Fascinating Creatures.
Before Every Dip Into The Leaf, The Dainty Little Fingers
Were Plunged Into Bowls Of Fresh Water Provided For The
Purpose. Delicious Fruit Followed The Substantial Fare; A
Small Glass Of Kava - A Juice Extracted From A Root Of The
Pepper Tribe - Was Then Served To All Alike. Having Watched
The Process Of Preparing The Beverage, I Am Unable To Speak
As To Its Flavour. The Making Of It Is Remarkable. A Number
Of Women Sit On The Ground, Chew The Root, And Spit Its Juice
Into A Bowl. The Liquor Is Kept Till It Ferments, After
Which It Becomes Highly Intoxicating. I Regret To Say That
Its Potency Was Soon Manifested On This Occasion. No Sooner
Did The Poison Set Their Wild Blood Tingling, Than A Free
Fight Began For The Remaining Gourds. Such A Scratching,
Pulling Of Hair, Clawing, Kicking, And Crying, Were Never
Seen. Only By Main Force Did We Succeed In Restoring Peace.
It Is But Fair To State That, Except On The Celebration Of
One Or Two Solemn And Sacred Rites Such As That Of The
Loohou, These Island Thyades Never Touch Fermented Liquors.
Chapter 31 Pg 163
It Was An Easier Task When All Was Over To Set The Little
Amazons On Their Horses Than To Keep Them There, For By The
Time We Had Perched One On Her Saddle, Or Pad Rather, And
Adjusted Her With The Greatest Nicety, Another Whom We Had
Just Left Would Lose Her Balance And Fall With A Scream To
The Ground. It Was Almost As Difficult As Packing Mules On
The Prairie. For My Part It Must Be Confessed That I Left
The Completion Of The Job To Others. Curious And
Entertaining As The Feast Was, My Whole Attention Was Centred
And Absorbed In Arakeeta, Which That Artful Little
Enchantress Had The Gift To Know, And Lashed Me Accordingly
With Her Eyes More Cruelly Than She Had Done With Her Whip.
I Had Got So Far, You See, As To Learn Her Name, The First
Instalment Of An Intimacy Which My Demolished Heart Was
Staked On Perfecting. I Noticed That She Refused The Kava
With Real Or Affected Repugnance; And When The Passage Of
Arms, And Legs, Began, She Slipped Away, Caught Her Animal,
And With A Parting Laugh At Me, Started Off For Home. There
Was Not The Faintest Shadow Of Encouragement In Her Saucy
Looks To Follow Her. Still, She Was A Year Older Than
Juliet, Who Was Nearly Fourteen; So, Who Could Say What Those
Looks Might Veil? Besides:
Das Naturell Der Frauen
Ist So Nah Mit Kunst Verwandt,
That One Might Easily Be Mistaken. Anyhow, Flight Provoked
Pursuit; I Jumped On To My Horse, And Raced Along The Plain
Like Mad. She Saw Me Coming, And Flogged The More, But Being
The Better Mounted Of The Two, By Degrees I Overhauled Her.
As I Ranged Alongside, Neither Slackened Speed; And Reaching
Out To Catch Her Bridle, My Knee Hooked Under The Hollow Of
Hers, Twisted Her Clean Off Her Pad, And In A Moment She Lay
Senseless On The Ground. I Flung Myself From My Horse, And
Laid Her Head Upon My Lap. Good God! Had I Broken Her Neck!
She Did Not Stir; Her Eyes Were Closed, But She Breathed, And
Her Heart Beat Quickly. I Was Wild With Terror And Remorse.
I Looked Back For Aid, But The Others Had Not Started; We
Were Still A Mile Or More From Honolulu. I Knew Not What To
Do. I Kissed Her Forehead, I Called Her By Her Name. But
She Lay Like A Child Asleep. Presently Her Dazed Eyes Opened
And Stared With Wonderment, And Then She Smiled. The Tears,
Chapter 31
Comments (0)