i remembered that i belonged to france. all my fathers had fought for her, and some had died; the voice in my throat, the sight of my eyes, the tears that now sprang there, the whole man of me, was fashioned of french earth and born of a french mother; i had been tended and caressed by a succession of the daughters of france, the fairest, the most ill-starred; and i had fought and conquered shoulder to shoulder with her sons. a soldier, a noble, of the proudest and bravest race in europe, it had been left to the prattle of a hobbledehoy lackey in an english chaise to recall me to the consciousness of duty.
of the lost state of the dead, from the lurid mangaian legend, in which infernal deities hocus and destroy the souls of all, to the various submarine and aerial limbos where the dead feast, float idle, or resume the occupations of their life on earth, it would be wearisome to tell. one story i give, for it is singular in itself, is well-known in tahiti, and has this of interest, that it is post-christian, dating indeed from but a few years back. a princess of the reigning house died; was transported to the neighbouring isle of raiatea; fell there under the empire of a spirit who condemned her to climb coco-palms all day and bring him the nuts; was found after some time in this miserable servitude by a second spirit, one of her own house; and by him, upon her lamentations, reconveyed to tahiti, where she found her body still waked, but already swollen
with the approaches of corruption. it is a lively point in the tale that, on the sight of this dishonoured tabernacle, the princess prayed she might continue to be numbered with the dead. but it seems it was too late, her spirit was replaced by the least dignified of entrances, and her startled family beheld the body move. the seemingly purgatorial labours, the helpful kindred spirit, and the horror of the princess at the sight of her tainted body, are all points to be remarked.
the truth is, the tales are not necessarily consistent in themselves; and they are further darkened for the stranger by an ambiguity of language. ghosts, vampires, spirits, and gods are all confounded. and yet i seem to perceive that (with exceptions) those whom we would count gods were less maleficent. permanent spirits haunt and do murder in corners of samoa; but those legitimate gods of upolu and savaii, whose wars and cricketings of late convulsed society, i did not gather to be dreaded, or not with a like fear. the spirit of aana that ate souls is certainly a fearsome inmate; but the high gods, even of the archipelago, seem helpful. mahinui--from whom our convict-catechist had been named--the spirit of the sea, like a proteus endowed with endless avatars, came to the assistance of the shipwrecked and carried them ashore in the guise of a ray fish. the same divinity bore priests from isle to isle about the archipelago, and by his aid, within the century, persons have been seen to fly. the tutelar deity of each isle is likewise helpful, and by a particular form of wedge-shaped cloud on the horizon announces the coming of a ship.
to one who conceives of these atolls, so narrow, so barren, so beset with sea, here would seem a superfluity of ghostly denizens. and yet there are more. in the various brackish pools and ponds, beautiful women with long red hair are seen to rise and bathe; only (timid as mice) on the first sound of feet upon the coral they dive again for ever. they are known to be healthy and harmless living people, dwellers of an underworld; and the same fancy is current in tahiti, where also they have the hair red. tetea is the tahitian name; the paumotuan, mokurea.