imes shaded, by the
splendid flowers of the _flamboyant_--its English name I do not know. At
the turn of the land, Atuona came in view: a long beach, a heavy and
loud breach of surf, a shore-side village scattered among trees, and the
guttered mountains drawing near on both sides above a narrow and rich
ravine. Its infamous repute perhaps affected me; but I thought it the
loveliest, and by far the most ominous and gloomy, spot on earth.
Beautiful it surely was; and even more salubrious. The healthfulness of
the whole group is amazing; that of Atuona almost in the nature of a
miracle. In Atuona, a village planted in a shore-side marsh, the houses
standing everywhere intermingled with the pools of a taro-garden, we
find every condition of tropical danger and discomfort; and yet there
are not even mosquitoes--not even the hateful day-fly of Nuka-hiva--and
fever, and its concomitant, the island fe'efe'e,[4] are unknown.

This is the chief station of the French on the man-eating isle of
Hiva-oa. The sergeant of gendarmerie enjoys the style of the
vice-resident, and hoists the French colours over a quite extensive
compound. A Chinaman, a waif from the plantation, keeps a restaurant in
the rear quarters of the village; and the mission is well represented by
the sisters' school and Brother Michel's church. Father Orens, a
wonderful octogenarian, his frame scarce bowed, the fire of his eye
undimmed, has lived, and trembled, and suffered in this place since
1843. Again and again, when Moipu had made coco-brandy, he has been
driven from his house into the woods. "A mouse that dwelt in a cat's
ear" had a more easy resting-place; and yet I have never seen a man that
bore less mark of years. He must show us the church, still decorated
with the bishop's artless ornaments of paper--the last work of
industrious old hands, and the last earthly amusement of a man that was
much of a hero. In the sacristy we must see his sacred vessels, and, in
particular, a vestment which was a "_vraie curiosite_," because it had
been given by a gendarme. To the Protestant there is always something
embarrassing in the eagerness with which grown and holy men regard these
trifles; but it was touching and pretty to see Orens, his aged eyes
shining in his head, display his sacred treasures.

_August 26._--The vale behind the village, narrowing swiftly to a mere
ravine, was choked with profitable trees. A river gushed in the midst.
Overhead, the tall coco-palm