In the little recess where the
water fell, it did not appear that a breath of wind had ever blown.
The thin edges of the great leaves of the banana, damp with spray,
were unbroken, instead of being, as is so generally the case, split
into a thousand shreds. From our position, almost suspended on the
mountain-side, there were glimpses into the depths of the
neighbouring valleys; and the lofty points of the central
mountains, towering up within sixty degrees of the zenith, hid half
the evening sky. Thus seated, it was a sublime spectacle to watch
the shades of night gradually obscuring the last and highest
pinnacles.
Before we laid ourselves down to sleep, the elder Tahitian fell on
his knees, and with closed eyes repeated a long prayer in his
native tongue. He prayed as a Christian should do, with fitting
reverence, and without the fear of ridicule or any ostentation of
piety. At our meals neither of the men would taste food, without
saying beforehand a short grace. Those travellers who think that a
Tahitian prays only when the eyes of the missionary are fixed on
him, should have slept with us that night on the mountain-side.
Before morning it rained very heavily; but the good thatch of
banana-leaves kept us dry.
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