her former haunts, when her cane-built villas are polluted by
foreign tread, and the weeping groves that sheltered her troops of
languishing revellers, the "cushions of whose palms" had clasped the
smooth trunks of all--where merriment, games, feast, and wassail went on
unceasingly, in all the native abandonment of island life and pleasure;
now to have those scenes so changed by red-breeched _Franees_--the
shelly shores tossed with stone and mortar into embankments for dreaded
cannon, and the grove resounding with stunning sound of hammer and
anvil. Alas! poor Pomaree! recall the bright days of your girlhood, and
curse the hour when you invited the stranger to your kingdom.

CHAPTER L.

Early one morning the Governor and myself left the ship at gunfire, for
a pic-nic among the mountains. We met with no more serious adventure in
our transit from the frigate to the beach, than the capsizing a barrel
of bread, by our stupid Italian valet, belonging to the baker's bumboat,
in which we had been kindly offered a passage to the shore. The loaves
went floating all about the harbor, and we were some minutes rescuing
the manna from Neptune's pocket. Without further mishap we went straight
to the domicile of an English gentleman, who had politely planned the
party. All was prepared, and we set off as the troops of the garrison
were filing into the parade ground for weekly review, and a very
creditable and soldierly appearance they presented.

We made quite a respectable battalion ourselves, so far as numerical
force went. In advance trotted a vigorous _taata_, with a couple of
large, native baskets slung by a pole over his shoulders, loaded with
bottles and provender; at his heels, our own unfortunate esquire,
Giacomo. The Governor, our English friend and myself, constituted the
main body, and the rear guard was composed of three laughter-loving
damsels--straight and tall--with an easy grace of motion, like willows.
One was housekeeper to our friend, and the most beautiful woman in face
and form we had seen in all the islands. Her figure was lithe and clear
as an antelope--hands and feet small, with arms that would have made
Canova start in his dreams. The face was full of sweetness and
expression--eyes soft, full and dark--the mouth and chin large and
rounded--with even, white teeth, and long, glossy-black tresses. Her
name was Teina, and it, had as pretty a sound as the euphonious _ita
ita_, the Tahitians pronounce so