The Total Solar Eclipse Of 1883

In one night we were fairly settled; in another the Hartford had sailed away, leaving us in our fairy paradise, where the corals and the fish were of all the brilliant hues of the rainbow, and where the whiteness of the sand, the emerald of the lagoon, and the turquoise of the ocean made a picture of color and form never to be forgotten.

But where are the Frenchmen? The next morning there is the Eclaireur lying a mile or so out, and there is a boat with the bo'sun—maître d'équipage—pulling towards the surf. I wade out to the brink. He halloes:

"Where is the landing, then?"

"Mais ici"—Right here,—I say.

"Yes, that's all very well for persons, but where do you land les bagages?"

"Mais ici" I say again, and he says, "Diable!"

But all the same he lands both persons and baggage in a neat, sailor-like way. In a couple of days our two parties of fifty persons had taken possession of this fairy isle. Observatories go up, telescopes, spectroscopes, photographic cameras are pointed and adjusted. The eventful day arrives. Everything is successful. Then comes the Hartford and takes us away, and a few days later comes the Eclaireur, and the Frenchmen are gone. The little island is left there, abandoned to the five natives who tend the sickly plantation of cocoa-palms, and live from year to year with no incident but the annual visit of "the blig" (Kanaka for brig), which brings their store of ship biscuit and molasses.

"OBSERVATORIES GO UP."

Think of their stupendous experience! For years and years they have lived like that in the marvellous, continuous charm of the silent island. The "blig" [pg 266] had come and gone away this year, and there will be no more disturbance and discord for a twelve-month longer.

Not so! for here comes a great warship out of the East under a press of canvas. What event is this? See! she clews up her light sails and fires an eleven-inch gun! One of those guns of Mobile Bay. Then swarms out the starboard watch, one hundred and sixty strong, and a fleet of boats brings ashore these pale astronomers with those useless tubes that they point at the sky every night. But there are useful things too; cooking-stoves, and lumber, and bricks.

What is all this? No sooner are these established than comes another ship and fires its gun! and another set of hardy sailormen pours out, and here is another party of madmen with tubes,—yes, and with cooking-stoves and lumber, too. Then comes the crowning, stupendous, and unspeakable event. The whole sun is hidden and the heavens are lighted up with pearly streamers! In the name of all the Polynesian gods, what is the meaning of all this?

And then in a few days all these are gone. All the madmen. They have taken away the useless tubes, but they have left their houses standing. Their splendid, priceless, precious cook-stoves are here. See! here is a frying-pan! here are empty tin cans! and a keg of nails! They must have forgotten all this, madmen as they are!

And the little island sinks back to its quiet and its calm. The lagoon lies placid like a mirror. The slow sea breaks eternally on the outer reef. The white clouds sail over day by day. The seabirds come back to their haunts,—the fierce man-of-war birds, the gentle, soft-eyed tern. But we, whose island home was thus invaded—are we the same? Was this a dream? Will it happen again next year? every year? What indeed was it that happened,—or in fact, did it happen at all? Is it not a dream, indeed?

If we left those peaceful Kanakas to their dream, we Americans have brought ours away with us. Who will forget it? Which of us does not wish to be in that peaceful fairyland once more? That is the personal longing. But we have all come back, each one with his note-books full; and in a few weeks the stimulus of accustomed habit has taken possession of us again. Right and wrong are again determined by "municipal sanctions." We have become useful citizens once more. Perhaps it is just as well. We should have been poor poets, and we do not forget. So ends the astronomer's voyage to fairyland.

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