登陆注册
37805400000063

第63章 A PAUMOTUAN FUNERAL(1)

NO,I had no guess of these men's terrors.Yet I had received ere that a hint,if I had understood;and the occasion was a funeral.

A little apart in the main avenue of Rotoava,in a low hut of leaves that opened on a small enclosure,like a pigsty on a pen,an old man dwelt solitary with his aged wife.Perhaps they were too old to migrate with the others;perhaps they were too poor,and had no possessions to dispute.At least they had remained behind;and it thus befell that they were invited to my feast.I dare say it was quite a piece of politics in the pigsty whether to come or not to come,and the husband long swithered between curiosity and age,till curiosity conquered,and they came,and in the midst of that last merry****** death tapped him on the shoulder.For some days,when the sky was bright and the wind cool,his mat would be spread in the main highway of the village,and he was to be seen lying there inert,a mere handful of a man,his wife inertly seated by his head.They seemed to have outgrown alike our needs and faculties;they neither spoke nor listened;they suffered us to pass without a glance;the wife did not fan,she seemed not to attend upon her husband,and the two poor antiques sat juxtaposed under the high canopy of palms,the human tragedy reduced to its bare elements,a sight beyond pathos,stirring a thrill of curiosity.And yet there was one touch of the pathetic haunted me:that so much youth and expectation should have run in these starved veins,and the man should have squandered all his lees of life on a pleasure party.

On the morning of 17th September the sufferer died,and,time pressing,he was buried the same day at four.The cemetery lies to seaward behind Government House;broken coral,like so much road-metal,forms the surface;a few wooden crosses,a few inconsiderable upright stones,designate graves;a mortared wall,high enough to lean on,rings it about;a clustering shrub surrounds it with pale leaves.Here was the grave dug that morning,doubtless by uneasy diggers,to the sound of the nigh sea and the cries of sea-birds;meanwhile the dead man waited in his house,and the widow and another aged woman leaned on the fence before the door,no speech upon their lips,no speculation in their eyes.

Sharp at the hour the procession was in march,the coffin wrapped in white and carried by four bearers;mourners behind -not many,for not many remained in Rotoava,and not many in black,for these were poor;the men in straw hats,white coats,and blue trousers or the gorgeous parti-coloured pariu,the Tahitian kilt;the women,with a few exceptions,brightly habited.Far in the rear came the widow,painfully carrying the dead man's mat;a creature aged beyond humanity,to the likeness of some missing link.

The dead man had been a Mormon;but the Mormon clergyman was gone with the rest to wrangle over boundaries in the adjacent isle,and a layman took his office.Standing at the head of the open grave,in a white coat and blue pariu,his Tahitian Bible in his hand and one eye bound with a red handkerchief,he read solemnly that chapter in Job which has been read and heard over the bones of so many of our fathers,and with a good voice offered up two prayers.

The wind and the surf bore a burthen.By the cemetery gate a mother in crimson suckled an infant rolled in blue.In the midst the widow sat upon the ground and polished one of the coffin-stretchers with a piece of coral;a little later she had turned her back to the grave and was playing with a leaf.Did she understand?

God knows.The officiant paused a moment,stooped,and gathered and threw reverently on the coffin a handful of rattling coral.

Dust to dust:but the grains of this dust were gross like cherries,and the true dust that was to follow sat near by,still cohering (as by a miracle)in the tragic semblance of a female ape.

So far,Mormon or not,it was a Christian funeral.The well-known passage had been read from Job,the prayers had been rehearsed,the grave was filled,the mourners straggled homeward.With a little coarser grain of covering earth,a little nearer outcry of the sea,a stronger glare of sunlight on the rude enclosure,and some incongruous colours of attire,the well-remembered form had been observed.

同类推荐
  • Behind a Mask

    Behind a Mask

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。
  • 淞故述

    淞故述

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。
  • 大圣妙吉祥菩萨说除灾教令法轮

    大圣妙吉祥菩萨说除灾教令法轮

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。
  • 释闷

    释闷

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。
  • 大吉义神咒经

    大吉义神咒经

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。
热门推荐
  • 听,鬼说

    听,鬼说

    嘘!你听,鬼说。每个经过奈何桥的鬼魂,大约都有那么一段不为人知的故事。奈何桥前,听,鬼说。
  • 共度浮生

    共度浮生

    能穿越在不同世界的女孩子,穿越时间帮助不同的人实现不同成就,消除业障,积累功德,顺便谈个恋爱的故事。
  • 花园公主的狗

    花园公主的狗

    一边是对自己温柔的公主大人,一边是鬼灵精怪的好基友。在这样的情况下,米文陷入了纠结。
  • 我们都爱发神经

    我们都爱发神经

    本书是心理学的最后一块隐秘,幽默另类、通俗易懂地讲述了各种“发神经”现象,如间歇性抓狂、玩失踪、间歇性话痨、“报复式”暴饮暴食等,配有大量生动真实的案例,并附作者独到分析,教你如何一眼看穿“发神经”的所有秘密和怪癖。
  • 你是我最肯定的决定

    你是我最肯定的决定

    你是我最肯定的决定是颜菲自己经历的事情,自己很努力配上她,但他不告而别,冤枉!背叛!故事让颜菲伤心,但是重新开始了
  • 梦回大唐之荣耀大唐

    梦回大唐之荣耀大唐

    一场梦,一场穿越,女大学生沈筱曦穿越回到了大唐天宝年间,又意外地成为了吴兴才女沈珍珠。含泪看完整本小说,她竟然来到了这个故事开始的时候……凭借着对未来的洞悉,她能否在这险恶的宫廷中生存下去,又能否凭一己之力阻止张皇后的阴谋,阻止檀木夫妇的悲剧,甚至是和挚爱的李俶相守?
  • 流逝时光随笔

    流逝时光随笔

    人说,看雾即如读诗,雾不仅给我的心情涂上了一层色彩,又让我品读着这首意境高远,含蓄深厚的小诗。
  • 有多少历史可以胡来:惊世内幕与丑闻

    有多少历史可以胡来:惊世内幕与丑闻

    在这颗蔚蓝的星球上,什么是传奇?是主宰命运的英雄,是使天地色变的霹雳,是令人神往的秘境,是无法磨灭的记忆,是人迹罕至的奇景,是社会变迁的光怪陆离……历史如同一张巨大的网,每一事件都与无数种可能交错,我们深陷其中,牵一发而动全身。真相是一种力量,它让我们有勇气穿越历史的迷雾,沐浴晴朗。总有一些人物影响着历史,总有一些事件成就了某人,他们的言行是对历史最真实的演绎。他们曾经光鲜夺目,秀韵多姿;他们曾经飞扬跋扈,显赫一时;他们曾经一言九鼎,位高权重;他们曾经愤世嫉俗,玩世不恭;如今他们中的一些虽早已离开世间,却走不出光阴的痕迹。新闻、绯闻、真相、谜团,将成为历史永存。
  • 天行

    天行

    号称“北辰骑神”的天才玩家以自创的“牧马冲锋流”战术击败了国服第一弓手北冥雪,被誉为天纵战榜第一骑士的他,却受到小人排挤,最终离开了效力已久的银狐俱乐部。是沉沦,还是再次崛起?恰逢其时,月恒集团第四款游戏“天行”正式上线,虚拟世界再起风云!
  • 算命先生的预言

    算命先生的预言

    在那场事故中,她的脸上添了一道又长又扭曲的伤疤,她只得将脸终日的包起来那日,她带着面纱出门,遇到一个算命先生,“姑娘,算一卦吧。”她认出这就是当年说她幸福难求的那个算命先生,她摘下面纱,“不用算了,我的命运已经注定了。”算命先生惊呆了片刻,摇头道,“命,都是命啊。”