The Rose of Dawn | Page 3

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, antenn?-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."
She smiled,?And with the smile Malua felt the blood?Leap in his heart, his heart inviolate?Never before so stirred 'neath woman's eyes.?"Come, then, with me," said Taka, and the beach?Stretched from their feet, a ribbon that should bind?In its white length the heaven to the earth.?With delicate step she led him to the hut?Where old Akau gave him kindly greeting.?A little in the shadow, where the gourds?And strange sweet herbs--soft musty fragrances--?Hung swinging from the beams about her head,?Taka withdrew. Her wide eyes opened wide,?And, lightly folded on her golden breast,?Her two hands lay like flowers.
In the light?Bright as a sun god sat Malua listening?With greatest reverence to the aged man,?Who spoke to him of ancient, long dead things?While he displayed his wealth of burnished cups?Out of the splendid eld. "My son," he said,?"Yours is dim future, mine the deathless past;?Heroes have died for me and yet shall die,?And all the glory of the virgin earth?Yields up its sweets to me, for now I rest?And stretch my withered sinews in the sun?And wait for peaceful death; because your lips?Are innocent, and dawn is in your eyes,?I give you of my store the fairest treasure.?After my Taka, you have won my heart."?In his strong hand he laid a bowl; for this?The ages had paid toll, soft lightnings shone?From its brown glory, carved most royally.?He raised the kava bowl aloft, the sun?Struck on its shining rim, and straight as a spear?Shivered the dusk where Taka stood. The light?Lay on her swelling throat, and showed her eyes?Starred like a tropic night. The stranger's hand?Trembled a little, and his quick-drawn breath?Carried a message from his breast to hers.?They left the hut together. From the clear?Bright heat of noon they turned, and took their way?Into the greenly silent forest. Leaves?Flickered above wet blossoms, simple sounds?Of homely labor borne upon the breeze?Made them the more alone. They spoke of Love,?A mighty word to ease the strange new pain?Born in their hearts.
Sudden the path grew wide--?A little space deprived of flowers and life--?"The house of sandal wood," said Taka, pointing,?And there, the last home of a chief, it lay.?White shells and snowy pebbles girt him round?In his great mould of clay, and all his spears?And clubs of war kept vigil, showing still?His might in battle. Shrill the parrot's scream?Rang on the desolation, and the trees?Seemed to withdraw their shadows from the place?Sacred to death, the violent crime of war.?A little shadow darkened Taka's heart,?Could this sweet world contain both death and love??She sought Malua's eyes to be assured?That love lives always.
He had gone before?To hold the leaves for her to pass, and softly?She came, and like a golden butterfly?Her small hand fluttered down upon his arm.?He caught his breath as tho' the leaping blood?That fled before