The Rose of Dawn: A Tale of the South Sea

Somnolent, vast, inert, the darkness lay Waiting for dawn. Across the ocean stirred A luminous haze, not light, but whispering light, So softly yet, the islands had not heard. The mystery of sleep was in the trees And on the weary stars. A little cry That broke the silence seemed a sacrilege. Then thro' the palm trees glided like a ghost A dusky form; the curtain of the dark Was rent with life, the forest brought forth men.

Instinct with morning every eye was bright, Tho' sleep so lately lay across their lids. No sinister intent had called them forth Upon the shadows. May held out her hands, And all the men who dared the dangerous sport Were faring where the great bonita played,-- Strong shining fish below the mid sea waves. Upon the beach beneath the paling moon The boats were launched. Amid the busy stir One man stood idle; as a chief might order, He bade the youths prepare his long canoe. With folded arms he gravely watched the rest And gave them salutation haughtily. Uhila[1] was he called, and in his veins There ran a slender stream of northern blood. He bore upon his old and indolent heart, Scarred with the sins of war, a white device. Taka, daughter of chiefs and Fiji's pride, Lily of maidens, was betrothed to him; Desirous eyes kinged him with envy's crown.

[Footnote 1: The lightning.]

Scraping across the beach the boats were launched, And as they touched the waves, they seemed to take New shape and dignity with that caress Of little lapping ripples round the prow. Uhila led the fleet as one who knew His right by reason of his age and skill. The little isle seemed now a sleeping maid Kirtled in green, the beach her snowy breast Veined with the purple brooks that sought the sea. Uhila watched it fade below the blue, Crouched in the bow, his grizzled chin in hand, Taking his ease, while small Kuma, keen-eyed, Famed for his daring, paddled lustily. The dawn had not yet broken, and the soft Beautiful haze that veils the birth of day Hung on the water. Loath to break the peace, Men gave their orders in hushed tones, the clean Chill of the morning wrapt their naked bodies. Then, as a slow blush mounts the cheek, a light Breathed from the sea, and all the air seemed warm As at the touch of spring, a violet streak, A pale leaf green, a golden, and a rose Broke in the sky, and morning was revealed. With a shrill cry, young Kuma raised his hand And pointed where with dip and shriek and wheel A flock of sea birds hovered; all the rest Echoed the call and bending to the paddle Shot o'er the waves, for now the fish were gained. Uhila grasped his rod, and at the stern Tossed out the shining hook, with laugh and cheer A glint of silver flashed, then all the air Was gemmed with streaming stars. They came from deeps; From azure fairer than its mother sky Clouded with dazzling whitenesses of foam. Luck to their fishing:

Now, fair and remote A scattered emerald from a broken chain Lying below the bending breast of heaven, The village had awakened,--once again Serene Kambara, island of the south, Exhaled its light upon the light of heaven. The verdure seemed to shine with lucent green, The red hibiscus burned with inward flame, And in the village happy song and shout Proclaimed the day was fair. Blue upon blue The bright waves glittered like a shattered star Set in the silver crescent of the sand. The palm trees' plume uplifted dauntlessly To call the morning. At the forest's brim The day was made alive by human flowers, Sweet maidens who against the emerald Showed warm and brown in purest harmony. The fierce bright flame that is the tropic sea Burned on their eyes and called them to its heart. Like eager sea birds they forgot the land, And, happy as the amorous waves, they gave Their slim brown bodies to the sea's embrace. They found them driftwood and astride they leapt The feathered breakers, one with daring skill Curved her sweet length to lie within the palm Of a strong wave, and so was brought to shore. "Taka," they cried, "has beaten us;" and all, Shaking the bright drops from their shining hair, With laugh and song sprang to the beach again, Sunning themselves to languor ere they made Their pretty toilet. Some had gathered flowers In fragrant wreaths, and others brought the grave Work of the morning. Yet because the wine-- Sun of the South--gilds even toil, it seemed A poet's pastime. Scarlet beans they threaded Later to lie about some golden throat. Deftly they wove fine mats, and deftly twisted Bright witchery to adorn themselves, and snare Men's eyes. With little songs they pearled the air. Hush! it is Taka singing:--

"Far away In a fountain dwelt a maiden; When the silver moon was high She was glad, but heavy laden Was she when its light must die. Far away.

"Far away Came a stranger brave to love her, Loved her when the moon was high; When the moon was pale above her Love grew pale and like to die Far away.

"Far away From the fountain's mist he drew her Happy while the moon was high, Waning, fled she, her pursuer Held her back, and saw her die Far away."

"'Tis a sad song for morning," cried the maids-- "And for a bride. Come, Hopa, sing of laughter." Hopa sang:--

"Little brown streams, Slim as my fingers, Running and laughing While the light lingers, Have you no dreams, Little brown streams?

"Little brown maidens, Laughing and weeping, Singing and dancing, All the night sleeping, Have you no lovers, Little brown maidens?"

Afar there sounded in the mellow breeze The rhythmic movement of the maidens' toil; Before them on the sand a snowy sheet Lay spread,--the tapa cloth; tutunga trees Yield them their inner bark, and lightly then The maidens tap the fibres till they join, Made firm with scented gums and bright with dyes, To form a fabric that a bride might choose, And this was for a bride. Among the rest One maiden shone; a moon beside her stars, Taka, the fair. Her father was the chief Of this small village. His the splendid store Of kava bowls for which the isle is famed, The shining fish-hooks, fairest of mother of pearl, Great mats from ancient days with border rare Of crimson feathers, cruel tragic spears, Sweet unguents, necklaces of pearly shells Envied by maidens, and above them all Bales of the snowy tapa, made by hands Subtle, wise hands of women, over whom The earth had long laid flowers.

In the land Where history is but a charming tale Droned by old men at twilight, future days Pleasantly certain as the next repast, Where gods and goddesses appear as birds, Trees, plants or moonlight, gently rising tide, And shining girdle of leaves,--all homely things, Which hold the people's hearts.--In this fair land Taka was born. Thro' sixteen years of moon And tropic sun she blossomed in the air. Chilled by no frost, the world unconsciously Mirrored her sweetness back to her. The sun Had kissed her skin to a warm topaz; rare As dusky wealth of Autumn, her sweet breast, Gleaming and bare, was hung with ropes of flowers Yellow and white, and in her curling hair Glimmered the pure gardenia. All the braves Wished her for wife, but old Akau the chief, Knowing Uhila's prowess and the blood Left by an English forbear in his veins, Knowing that Taka too could boast, or mourn, A foreign ancestry, had lately pledged His daughter to this brave, and now the village Made preparations for the marriage. There By the warm sea the maidens paid their court To Taka, who so soon would leave their gay Indifferent frolic lives to wed the grave Stern chief. She did not falter at the choice. Love which the maidens sang was but a word; She wished no better fate than to be mated To a strong warrior whom her heart held dear As friend to kind Akau. So she waited. In her slim hands she held a polished cup, The shell of cocoanut, which caught the light Like a brown pool. The toil of many days Had turned the tawny shade to warmest black In gradual depths as shaded Taka's cheek; With perfumed oil her fingers gave caress And waked the hidden pictures in the grain, The yellow sand, the dusky amber girl, The brown perfected in the shining globe. Earth's monotones are justified in this. Close to her lolled small Hopa, blithe and gay As a young cricket, teasing all the rest With her sharp wit; often she dropped her work-- The threading of bright flowers into wreaths-- To look across the waves, and suddenly She called, "A sail, a little sail," and all Followed her pointing fingers. Far away, Tossed like a feather, black against the sky, Hovered a tiny craft, its unknown lines Marked it as stranger, and the maidens all Curiously watched its coming to the shore.

All night the little shell with ceaseless dip And pause, and rise and dip again, had borne The trackless trade winds. Tui Tua Kau, "King of the Reefs," had ventured over far From Tonga's shore. Caught by a wanton gale, His idle racing, lengthened in a whim To cheat his laughing mates, grew a wild flight. The frail canoe seemed, on the angry sea, A sweet rose petal blown across the night. Yet wisely now the winds had mind to crown Their joyous undertaking, and upon The shores of Fiji's isles they drew their prize. The maidens on the shore had seen afar The stranger's coming, and the songs were stilled To hush of expectation. Even so A prince might come to claim his kingdom, lone, In a frail craft, with weary eyes, and hair Crowned with a fading wreath, more beautiful Than all their lovers, slender, strong and young. With one lithe spring he gained the yellow sand And caught the boat and drew it with a swing High on the beach,--its movement seemed alive. His sinewy fingers loosed the flapping sail, Gay shells clinked musical against the mast, And all the maidens, timorous as birds, Laughed at the sound with shy averted face. Then straight and slender as the cocoa palm, Straight as its shaft and crowned with shining hair, The stranger lifted up his head. The wreath, Faded yet still alive thro' ocean's breath, Drooped o'er his brows. His flashing sun-bright eyes Struck thro' the group of girls as shoots a dart, And caught and quivered in sweet Taka's breast. More noble than the rest, she scorned to fear, And graceful in her modesty she faltered, Then came to meet and greet the stranger guest. Erect she faced him, o'er her brow the frail Curves of the crest she wore, antennae-wise, Trembled a little. As a maid beseems, Her eyes drooped from his gaze, yet not too soon To miss the gleam with which he caught the first Flash of her beauty. With that glance he gained-- Half conscious of a gladness--that this maid Was still for winning. As the custom is Her hair fell in twin braids, and were she wed They had been sacrificed to that estate. Maiden she was, his eyes caressed the sign Black o'er the topaz beauty of her breast. The stranger spoke. "Malua am I called; I hold for title Tui Tua Kau. Over the violent seas, beneath the frown, Cold and untoward, of a starless sky, The waves of chance have borne me; thro' the night Around me and above the pitiless trades Were blind with darkness, blown like maiden's hair Across my face. As palm trees beaten by wind, The tortured breakers tossed their streaming crests, And all the light of all my life seemed dead-- Then--morning broke, and I behold the sun!"-- He held her with his gaze and found her eyes-- "On Tonga's shore I reigned a chief, and now I am a beggar at your mercy." Then The young pride mounting to his cheek, he cried, "Nay, but I jested, for I come so far To green Kambara for a lordly bowl Fit for the kava of a chief."