Hawaii - James Michener [75]
On the long voyage south, while his men starved and grew parched in the doldrums, Teroro put together the rough chant that would be remembered in the islands for generations after his death and which served to guide subsequent canoes from Tahiti to the new Havaiki:
Wait for the west wind, wait for the west wind!
Then sail to Nuku Hiva of the dark bays
To find the constant star.
Hold to it, hold to it,
Though the eyes grow dim with heat.
Hold to it, hold to it,
Till wild Ta'aroa sends the winds.
Then speed to the clouds where Pere waits.
Watch for her flames, the flames of Pere,
Till great Tane brings the land,
Brings Havaiki-of-the-North,
Sleeping beneath the Little Eyes.
But when the chant was finished, Teroro realized with some dismay that finding the home islands was not going to be easy, and he missed them altogether at first, reaching all the way down to Tahiti before he discovered where he was. Then, beating his way back north, he found Havaiki-of-Red-Oro, and there at sea, in the gently rolling swells, the seven men held a council of war. Teroro posed the problem simply: "If we sail into Bora Bora without a plan, the High Priest, who must know about our attack on Oro, will command his men to kill us."
"We've got to risk it," Pa growled.
"We are very weak," Teroro pointed out.
"We can still fight," Pa insisted.
"There is a better way," Teroro argued, and with a newly developing sense of guile he reasoned: "Since we're not strong enough to fight the High Priest, we must outsmart him." And he suggested a way, but his men thought of other things when in the dawn they saw once more the pinnacles of Bora Bora and the wild cliffs dropping away to the lagoon.
Pa muttered, "We must have been insane to leave this place for Havaiki-of-the-North." And each man in the canoe acknowledged the fact that he had surrendered earth's paradise in exchange for a harsh new land.
As soon as Wait-for-the-West-Wind was spotted standing off the western entrance into the lagoon, the residents of its home port began to line the shores and shout with joy at the return of their people. It was this joy that Teroro counted upon to give him ten minutes' respite to develop his plan, because he believed that the islanders' spontaneous acceptance of the canoe would prevent the High Priest from ordering the crew's immediate death, and in that interval Teroro would have time to accomplish his mission.
As the canoe neared land he warned his men again: "I'll talk, but you must look pious."
And promptly the bow of the canoe struck land, he leaped ashore and cried, "We seek the High Priest!" and when that dignitary, older and more solemn, with flecks of white in his beard, approached, Teroro made deep obeisance and cried for all to hear, We come as servants of Oro, seeking another god for our distant land. Bless us, august one, and send us another god."
The plea took the High Priest so by surprise, coming as it did even before any narration of the journey, that he was unable to mask his pleasure, and the staff with which he could have directed the sacrifice of the crew remained rooted in the ground, and he listened as Teroro spoke rapidly: "Under Oro we have prospered, august one, and our community grows. But life is difficult and we live scattered. That is why your servant old Tupuna requires additional gods. When we have borrowed them from you, we will depart."
The High Priest listened, and then stood aside as the new king of Bora Bora appeared, and Teroro saw with intense pleasure that the man was not from "Havaiki, as planned, but from Bora Bora. "King," he cried, "forgive us for our midnight assault on Havaiki before our departure. We did this thing not to dishonor great Oro, but to prevent a Havaiki man from becoming king of Bora Bora. Forgive us." And Teroro was so weak, and so urgently in need of food and help, that he kneeled in the dust, and prostrated himself before the king, and then before the High Priest, and to his deep satisfaction