strung along the beach of a
precipitous green bay in Nuka-hiva. It was midwinter when we came
thither, and the weather was sultry, boisterous, and inconstant. Now the
wind blew squally from the land down gaps of splintered precipice; now,
between the sentinel islets of the entry, it came in gusts from seaward.
Heavy and dark clouds impended on the summits; the rain roared and
ceased; the scuppers of the mountain gushed; and the next day we would
see the sides of the amphitheatre bearded with white falls. Along the
beach the town shows a thin file of houses, mostly white, and all
ensconced in the foliage of an avenue of green puraos; a pier gives
access from the sea across the belt of breakers; to the eastward there
stands, on a projecting bushy hill, the old fort which is now the
calaboose, or prison; eastward still, alone in a garden, the Residency
flies the colours of France. Just off Calaboose Hill, the tiny
Government schooner rides almost permanently at anchor, marks eight
bells in the morning (there or thereabout) with the unfurling of her
flag, and salutes the setting sun with the report of a musket.

Here dwell together, and share the comforts of a club (which may be
enumerated as a billiard-board, absinthe, a map of the world on
Mercator's projection, and one of the most agreeable verandahs in the
tropics), a handful of whites of varying nationality, mostly French
officials, German and Scottish merchant clerks, and the agents of the
opium monopoly. There are besides three tavern-keepers, the shrewd Scot
who runs the cotton gin-mill, two white ladies, and a sprinkling of
people "on the beach"--a South Sea expression for which there is no
exact equivalent. It is a pleasant society, and a hospitable. But one
man, who was often to be seen seated on the logs at the pier-head,
merits a word for the singularity of his history and appearance. Long
ago, it seems, he fell in love with a native lady, a High Chiefess in
Ua-pu. She, on being approached, declared she could never marry a man
who was untattooed; it looked so naked; whereupon, with some greatness
of soul, our hero put himself in the hands of the Tahukus, and, with
still greater, persevered until the process was complete. He had
certainly to bear a great expense, for the Tahuku will not work without
reward; and certainly exquisite pain. Kooamua, high chief as he was, and
one of the old school, was only part tattooed; he could not, he told us
with lively pantomi