But to return to my narrative. Placed in these circumstances, then,
with no prospect of matters mending if I remained aboard the _Dolly_, I
at once made up my mind to leave her: to be sure, it was rather an
inglorious thing to steal away privately from those at whose hands I
had received wrongs and outrages that I could not resent; but how was
such a course to be avoided when it was the only alternative left me?
Having made up my mind, I proceeded to acquire all the information I
could obtain relating to the island and its inhabitants, with a view of
shaping my plans of escape accordingly. The result of these inquiries I
will now state, in order that the ensuing narrative may be the better
understood.
The bay of Nukuheva, in which we were then lying, is an expanse of
water not unlike in figure the space included within the limits of a
horse-shoe. It is, perhaps, nine miles in circumference. You approach
it from the sea by a narrow entrance, flanked on either side by two
small twin islets which soar conically to the height of some five
hundred feet. From these the shore recedes on both hands, and describes
a deep semicircle.
From the verge of the water the land rises uniformly on all sides, with
green and sloping acclivities, until from gently rolling hillsides and
moderate elevations it insensibly swells into lofty and majestic
heights, whose blue outlines, ranged all around, close in the view. The
beautiful aspect of the shore is heightened by deep and romantic glens,
which come down to it at almost equal distances, all apparently
radiating from a common centre, and the upper extremities of which are
lost to the eye beneath the shadow of the mountains. Down each of these
little valleys flows a clear stream, here and there assuming the form
of a slender cascade, then stealing invisibly along until it bursts
upon the sight again in larger and more noisy waterfalls, and at last
demurely wanders along to the sea.
The houses of the natives, constructed of the yellow bamboo, tastefully
twisted together in a kind of wickerwork, and thatched with the long
tapering leaves of the palmetto, are scattered irregularly along these
valleys beneath the shady branches of the cocoa-nut trees.
Nothing can exceed the imposing scenery of this bay. Viewed from our
ship as she lay at anchor in the middle of the harbour, it presented
the appearance of a vast natural amphitheatre in decay, and overgrown
with vines, the deep glens that furrowed its sides appearing like
enormous fissures caused by the ravages of time. Very often when lost
in admiration at its beauty, I have experienced a pang of regret that a
scene so enchanting should be hidden from the world in these remote
seas, and seldom meet the eyes of devoted lovers of nature.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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