Old Stone Idols

How Their Removal Nearly Caused Panic in Tahiti

From Our Own Correspondent PAPEETE, Aug.lo TN the grounds of the Museum at Papeete are two ancient stone idols of colossal proportions.

They were brought—four years ago— to the Museum from the beautiful little island of Raivavae—far to the south of Tahiti and just outside the Tropic of Capricorn—where they had stood, since time out of mind, in the thick forest of the interior.

The removal of these idols from their ancient resting places stirred up the awe and terror of the old gods—always lat ent in the native mind—to an extraor dinary degree. The idols themselves were so old that no one on Raivavae, or anywhere else, had any memory as to what supernatural powers they had been dedicated.

But the natives of both Tahiti and

Raivavae remembered that Raivavae was the particular bailiwick of the fierce old sea god, Ruahatu. And to offend Ruahatu by violating the sacred precincts of his favourite island was to call down on the offenders, and all connected with them, a terrifying and fatal vengeance.

Everyone knew the legend of how two unsuspecting fishermen, casting in the depths of the ocean where Ruahatu lay sleeping, had entangled their hooks in his hair. Whereupon the awakened god had rushed to the surface and in the tempest of his anger, caused the sea to rise above the mountain tops of the neighbouring island.

When the idols were landed at Papeete, the whole native population were in a state of apprehension. Many predicted a devastating tidal wave and had their moveables packed in readiness to flee to the mountains. Their fears took sub stance when, a few days later, flashes of fire were seen issuing from the waters of the harbour. Ruahatu had come to wreak vengeance. Perhaps it would take the form of a fiery instead of watery up heaval.

Then, to cap all, the man responsible for the removal of the idols was stricken with a mysterious sickness. Alarm spread. There was serious talk of peti tioning the authorities to command the return of the idols to Raivavai.

As time passed, and no tidal wave or volcanic outburst materialised, public attention became centred on the sick man. The warlocks and wizards became convinced that if Ruahatu had not come himself, he had sent his TVi (or fetchers) to destroy the violator of his images.

Crowds of natives filed by on the public roadway, staring at the house where the sick man was.

No doubt they hoped to see the demons of Ruahatu dancing on the roof or prow ling about the garden paths. And, per haps, they brought their wizards along to mutter incantations to keep the TVi from wandering out of bounds.

However, after a time, the sick man recovered, and the prophets of doom were not a little disappointed because their prediction had failed to eventuate.

Then it transpired that the flames on the water had been caused by a pot of phosphorus and flour (a mixture used on schooners to poison insect vermin) which had been tossed overboard from some passing vessel. The phosphorus, coming in contact with sea water, had generated a gas which ignited as the bubbles burst on the surface.

That revelation put an end to the panic.

And now the idols stand on their new sites, gazing calmly over the gardens of the Museum —as they had stared for centuries through the gloomy shadows of their Raivavae forest.

During the recent visit to Apia of the Katoomha with a large party of Australian tourists on board, movietone pictures were taken for the first time in Western Samoa at the Faleula Mis

sion grounds.