ne.

The souls of the Tahitians were not much changed by all their outward
transformation. Superficial, indeed, are the accomplishments of
missionaries, merchants, and masters among these Maoris. The old
guard dies, but never surrenders; the boast of Napoleon's soldiers
might be paraphrased by the voice of the Maori spirit. Our philosophy,
our catechisms, and our rules have not uprooted the convictions and
thought methods of centuries. Bewildered by our ambitions, fashions,
and inventions, they emulate us feebly, but in their heart of hearts
think us mad. Old chiefs and chiefesses I have had confess to me that
they were stunned by the novelties, commands, and demands of the papaa
(foreigner), but that their confusion was not liking or belief. In his
youth, in the midst of these bustling whites, the Tahitian imitates
them and feels sometimes humiliated that he is not one of them. But
in sober middle age all these new desires begin to leave him, and he
becomes a Maori again. The older he grows, the less attractive seem
the white man's ways and ambitions, though pride, habit, and perhaps
an acquired fear of the hell painted by priests and preachers from the
distant lands keep him church-going. Gods may differ, but devils never.

Choti and T'yonni and I spent an hour at my house before they walked
home to bed, and Choti read as a soporific, with a few bottles of
Munich beer, the "Sermon to the Fishes" of St. Antonius. As he read,
we heard the joyous stridence of an accordion in a hula harmony. The
upaupahura was beginning in the grove where Uritaata lived. The austere
St. Antonius had lectured long to the eels on the folly of wiggling,
to the pikes on the immorality of stealing, and to the crabs and
turtles on the danger of sloth. But:

"The sermon now ended,
Each turned and descended;
The pikes went on stealing,
The eels went on eeling;
Much edified were they,
But preferred the old way.

"The crabs are back-sliders,
The stock-fish thick-siders,
The carps are sharp-set,
All the sermon forget;
Much delighted were they,
But preferred the old way."

Chapter XXV

I meet a sorcerer--Power over fire--The mystery of the fiery
furnace--The scene in the forest--Walking over the white hot
stones--Origin of the rite.

Walking to the neighboring district of Pueu with Raiere to see the
beauties of the shore, we met a cart coming toward Tautira,