Before me crouched a beautiful girl. Her hands were drooping. And,like a saint from a shrine, she looked sadly out from her long, fairhair. A low wail issued from her lips, and she trembled like a sound.There were tears on her cheek, and a rose-colored pearl on her bosom.
Did I dream?--A snow-white skin: blue, firmament eyes: Golcondalocks. For an instant spell-bound I stood; while with a slow,apprehensive movement, and still gazing fixedly, the captive gatheredmore closely about her a gauze-like robe. Taking one step within, andpartially dropping the curtain of the tent, I so stood, as to haveboth sight and speech of Samoa, who tarried without; while themaiden, crouching in the farther corner of the retreat, was whollyscreened from all eyes but mine.
Crossing my hands before me, I now stood without speaking. For thesoul of me, I could not link this mysterious creature with the tawnystrangers. She seemed of another race. So powerful was thisimpression, that unconsciously, I addressed her in my owntongue. She started, and bending over, listened intently, as if tothe first faint echo of something dimly remembered. Again I spoke,when throwing back her hair, the maiden looked up with a piercing,bewildered gaze. But her eyes soon fell, and bending over once more,she resumed her former attitude. At length she slowly chanted toherself several musical words, unlike those of the Islanders; butthough I knew not what they meant, they vaguely seemed familiar.
Impatient to learn her story, I now questioned her in Polynesian. Butwith much earnestness, she signed me to address her as before. Soonperceiving, however, that without comprehending the meaning of thewords I employed, she seemed merely touched by something pleasing intheir sound, I once more addressed her in Polynesian; saying that Iwas all eagerness to hear her history.
After much hesitation she complied; starting with alarm at everysound from without; yet all the while deeply regarding me.
Broken as these disclosures were at the time, they are here presentedin the form in which they were afterward more fully narrated.
So unearthly was the story, that at first I little comprehended it;and was almost persuaded that the luckless maiden was some beautifulmaniac.
She declared herself more than mortal, a maiden from Oroolia, theIsland of Delights, somewhere in the paradisiacal archipelago of thePolynesians. To this isle, while yet an infant, by some mysticalpower, she had been spirited from Amma, the place of her nativity.Her name was Yillah. And hardly had the waters of Oroolia washedwhite her olive skin, and tinged her hair with gold, when one daystrolling in the woodlands, she was snared in the tendrils of a vine.Drawing her into its bowers, it gently transformed her into one ofits blossoms, leaving her conscious soul folded up in the transparentpetals.
Here hung Yillah in a trance, the world without all tinged with therosy hue of her prison. At length when her spirit was about to burstforth in the opening flower, the blossom was snapped from its stem;and borne by a soft wind to the sea; where it fell into the openingvalve of a shell; which in good time was cast upon the beach of theIsland of Amma.
In a dream, these events were revealed to Aleema the priest; who by aspell unlocking its pearly casket, took forth the bud, which nowshowed signs of opening in the reviving air, and bore faint shadowyrevealings, as of the dawn behind crimson clouds. Suddenly expanding,the blossom exhaled away in perfumes; floating a rosy mist in theair. Condensing at last, there emerged from this mist the sameradiant young Yillah as before; her locks all moist, and a rose-colored pearl on her bosom. Enshrined as a goddess, the wonderfulchild now tarried in the sacred temple of Apo, buried in a dell;never beheld of mortal eyes save Aleema's.
Moon after moon passed away, and at last, only four days gone by,Aleema came to her with a dream; that the spirits in Oroolia hadrecalled her home by the way of Tedaidee, on whose coast gurgled upin the sea an enchanted spring; which streaming over upon the brine,flowed on between blue watery banks; and, plunging into a vortex,went round and round, descending into depths unknown. Into thiswhirlpool Yillah was to descend in a canoe, at last to well up in aninland fountain of Oroolia.
CHAPTER XLIVAway
Though clothed in language of my own, the maiden's story is insubstance the same as she related. Yet were not these things narratedas past events; she merely recounted them as impressions of herchildhood, and of her destiny yet unaccomplished. And mystical as thetale most assuredly was, my knowledge of the strange arts of theisland priesthood, and the rapt fancies indulged in by many of theirvictims, deprived it in good part of the effect it otherwise wouldhave produced.
For ulterior purposes connected with their sacerdotal supremacy, thepriests of these climes oftentimes secrete mere infants in theirtemples; and jealously secluding them from all intercourse with theworld, craftily delude them, as they grow up, into the wildest conceits.
Thus wrought upon, their pupils almost lose their humanity in theconstant indulgence of seraphic imaginings. In many cases becominginspired as oracles; and as such, they are sometimes resorted to bydevotees; always screened from view, however, in the recesses of thetemples. But in every instance, their end is certain. Beguiled withsome fairy tale about revisiting the islands of Paradise, they areled to the secret sacrifice, and perish unknown to their kindred.
But, would that all this had been hidden from me at the time. ForYillah was lovely enough to be really divine; and so I might havebeen tranced into a belief of her mystical legends.
But with what passionate exultation did I find myself thedeliverer of this beautiful maiden; who, thinking no harm, and raptin a dream, was being borne to her fate on the coast of Tedaidee. Nornow, for a moment, did the death of Aleema her guardian seem to hangheavy upon my heart. I rejoiced that I had sent him to his gods; thatin place of the sea moss growing over sweet Yillah drowned in thesea, the vile priest himself had sunk to the bottom.
But though he had sunk in the deep, his ghost sunk not in the deepwaters of my soul. However in exultations its surface foamed up, atbottom guilt brooded. Sifted out, my motives to this enterprisejustified not the mad deed, which, in a moment of rage, I had done:though, those motives had been covered with a gracious pretense;concealing myself from myself. But I beat down the thought.
In relating her story, the maiden frequently interrupted it withquestions concerning myself:--Whence I came: being white, fromOroolia? Whither I was going: to Amma? And what had happened toAleema? For she had been dismayed at the fray, though knowing notwhat it could mean; and she had heard the priest's name called uponin lamentations. These questions for the time I endeavored to evade;only inducing her to fancy me some gentle demigod, that had come overthe sea from her own fabulous Oroolia. And all this she must verilyhave believed. For whom, like me, ere this could she have beheld?Still fixed she her eyes upon me strangely, and hung upon the accentsof my voice.
While this scene was passing, the strangers began to show signs ofimpatience, and a voice from the Chamois repeatedly hailed us toaccelerate our movements.
My course was quickly decided. The only obstacle to be encounteredwas the possibility of Yillah's alarm at being suddenly borne into myprow. For this event I now sought to prepare her. I informed thedamsel that Aleema had been dispatched on a long errand to Oroolia;leaving to my care, for the present, the guardianship of the lovelyYillah; and that therefore, it was necessary to carry her tentinto my own canoe, then waiting to receive it.
This intelligence she received with the utmost concern; and notknowing to what her perplexity might lead, I thought fit to transporther into the Chamois, while yet overwhelmed by the announcement of myintention.
Quitting her retreat, I apprised Jarl of my design; and then, no moredelay!
At bottom, the tent was attached to a light framework of bamboos; andfrom its upper corners, four cords, like those of a marquee, confinedit to the dais. These, Samoa's knife soon parted; when lifting thelight tent, we speedily transferred it to the Chamois; a wild yellgoing up from the Islanders, which drowned the faint cries of themaiden. But we heeded not the din. Toss in the fruit, hanging fromthe altar-prow!
It was done; and then running up our sail, we glidedaway;--Chamois, tent, hostages, and all. Rushing to the now vacantstern of their canoe, the Islanders once more lifted up their handsand their voices in curses.
A suitable distance gained, we paused to fling overboard the arms wehad taken; and Jarl proceeded to liberate the hostages.
Meanwhile, I entered the tent, and by many tokens, sought to allaythe maiden's alarm. Thus engaged, violent plunges were heard: ourprisoners taking to the sea to regain their canoe. All dripping, theywere received by their brethren with wild caresses.
From something now said by the captives, the rest seemed suddenlyinspirited with hopes of revenge; again wildly shaking their spears,just before picked up from the sea. With great clamor and confusionthey soon set their mat-sail; and instead of sailing southward forTedaidee, or northward for Amma their home, they steered straightafter us, in our wake.
Foremost in the prow stood three; javelins poised for a dart; atintervals, raising a yell.
Did they mean to pursue me? Full in my rear they came on, baying likehounds on their game. Yillah trembled at their cries. My own heartbeat hard with undefinable dread. The corpse of Aleema seemedfloating before: its avengers were raging behind.
But soon these phantoms departed. For very soon it appeared that invain the pagans pursued. Their craft, our fleet Chamois outleaped.And farther and farther astern dropped the evil-boding canoe, till atlast but a speck; when a great swell of the sea surged up before it,and it was seen no more. Samoa swore that it must have swamped, andgone down. But however it was, my heart lightened apace. I saw nonebut ourselves on the sea: I remembered that our keel left no track asit sailed.
Let the Oregon Indian through brush, bramble, and brier, hunt hisenemy's trail, far over the mountains and down in the vales; comes heto the water, he snuffs idly in air.
CHAPTER XLVReminiscences
In resecuing the gentle Yillah from the hands of the Islanders, adesign seemed accomplished. But what was now to be done? Here, in ouradventurous Chamois, was a damsel more lovely than the flushes ofmorning; and for companions, whom had she but me and my comrades?Besides, her bosom still throbbed with alarms, her fancies all rovingthrough mazes.
How subdue these dangerous imaginings? How gently dispel them?
But one way there was: to lead her thoughts toward me, as her friendand preserver; and a better and wiser than Aleema the priest. Yetcould not this be effected but by still maintaining my assumption ofa divine origin in the blessed isle of Oroolia; and thus fostering inher heart the mysterious interest, with which from the first she hadregarded me. But if punctilious reserve on the part of her deliverershould teach her to regard him as some frigid stranger from theArctic Zone, what sympathy could she have for him? and hence, whatpeace of mind, having no one else to cling to?
Now re-entering the tent, she again inquired where tarried Aleema.
"Think not of him, sweet Yillah," I cried. "Look on me. Am I notwhite like yourself? Behold, though since quitting Oroolia the sunhas dyed my cheek, am I not even as you? Am I brown like the duskyAleema? They snatched you away from your isle in the sea, too earlyfor you to remember me there. But you have not been forgottenby me, sweetest Yillah. Ha! ha! shook we not the palm-trees together,and chased we not the rolling nuts down the glen? Did we not diveinto the grotto on the sea-shore, and come up together in the coolcavern in the hill? In my home in Oroolia, dear Yillah, I have a lockof your hair, ere yet it was golden: a little dark tress like a ring.How your cheeks were then changing from olive to white. And whenshall I forget the hour, that I came upon you sleeping among theflowers, with roses and lilies for cheeks. Still forgetful? Know younot my voice? Those little spirits in your eyes have seen me before.They mimic me now as they sport in their lakes. All the past a dimblank? Think of the time when we ran up and down in our arbor, wherethe green vines grew over the great ribs of the stranded whale. OhYillah, little Yillah, has it all come to this? am I foreverforgotten? Yet over the wide watery world have I sought thee: fromisle to isle, from sea to sea. And now we part not. Aleema is gone.My prow shall keep kissing the waves, till it kisses the beach atOroolia. Yillah, look up."
Sunk the ghost of Aleema: Sweet Yillah was mine!
CHAPTER XLVIThe Chamois With A Roving Commission
Through the assiduity of my Viking, ere nightfall our Chamois wasagain in good order. And with many subtle and seamanlike splices thelight tent was lashed in its place; the sail taken up by a reef.
My comrades now questioned me, as to my purposes; whether they hadbeen modified by the events of the day. I replied that ourdestination was still the islands to the westward.
But from these we had steadily been drifting all the morning long; sothat now no loom of the land was visible. But our prow was keptpointing as before.
As evening came on, my comrades fell fast asleep, leaving me at thehelm.
How soft and how dreamy the light of the hour. The rays of the sun,setting behind golden-barred clouds, came to me like the gleaming ofa shaded light behind a lattice. And the low breeze, pervaded withthe peculiar balm of the mid-Pacific near land, was fragrant as thebreath of a bride.
Such was the scene; so still and witching that the hand of Yillah inmine seemed no hand, but a touch. Visions flitted before me and inme; something hummed in my ear; all the air was a lay.
And now entered a thought into my heart. I reflected how serenely wemight thus glide along, far removed from all care and anxiety. Andthen, what different scenes might await us upon any of the shoresroundabout. But there seemed no danger in the balmy sea; the assuredvicinity of land imparting a sense of security. We had amplesupplies for several days more, and thanks to the Pagan canoe, anabundance of fruit.
Besides, what cared I now for the green groves and bright shore? Wasnot Yillah my shore and my grove? my meadow, my mead, my soft shadyvine, and my arbor? Of all things desirable and delightful, the full-plumed sheaf, and my own right arm the band? Enough: no shore for meyet. One sweep of the helm, and our light prow headed round towardthe vague land of song, sun, and vine: the fabled South.
As we glided along, strange Yillah gazed down in the sea, and wouldfain have had me plunge into it with her, to rove through its depths.But I started dismayed; in fancy, I saw the stark body of the priestdrifting by. Again that phantom obtruded; again guilt laid his redhand on my soul. But I laughed. Was not Yillah my own? by my armrescued from ill? To do her a good, I had periled myself. So down,down, Aleema.
When next morning, starting from slumber, my comrades beheld the sunon our beam, instead of astern as before at that hour, they eagerlyinquired, "Whither now?" But very briefly I gave them to know, thatafter devoting the night to the due consideration of a matter soimportant, I had determined upon voyaging for the island Tedaidee, inplace of the land to the westward.
At this, they were not displeased. But to tell the plain truth, Iharbored some shadowy purpose of merely hovering about for a while,till I felt more landwardly inclined.
But had I not declared to Yillah, that our destination was the fairyisle she spoke of, even Oroolia? Yet that shore was so exceedinglyremote, and the folly of endeavoring to reach it in a craft builtwith hands, so very apparent, that what wonder I really nourished nothought of it?
So away floated the Chamois, like a vagrant cloud in the heavens:bound, no one knew whither.
CHAPTER XLVIIYillah, Jarl, And Samoa
But time to tell, how Samoa and Jarl regarded this mystical Yillah;and how Yillah regarded them.
As Beauty from the Beast, so at first shrank the damsel from my one-armed companion. But seeing my confidence in the savage, a reactionsoon followed. And in accordance with that curious law, by which,under certain conditions, the ugliest mortals become only amiablyhideous, Yillah at length came to look upon Samoa as a sort ofharmless and good-natured goblin. Whence came he, she cared not; orwhat was his history; or in what manner his fortunes were united tomine.
May be, she held him a being of spontaneous origin.<
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Now, as every where women are the tamers of the menageries of men; soYillah in good time tamed down Samoa to the relinquishment of thathorrible thing in his ear, and persuaded him to substitute a vacancyfor the bauble in his nose. On his part, however, all this wasconditional. He stipulated for the privilege of restoring bothtrinkets upon suitable occasions.
But if thus gayly the damsel sported with Samoa; how different hisemotions toward her? The fate to which she had been destined, andevery nameless thing about her, appealed to all his nativesuperstitions, which ascribed to beings of her complexion a more thanterrestrial origin. When permitted to approach her, he looked timidand awkwardly strange; suggesting the likeness of some clumsy satyr,drawing in his horns; slowly wagging his tail; crouching abashedbefore some radiant spirit.
And this reverence of his was most pleasing to me, Bravo! thought I;be a pagan forever. No more than myself; for, after a differentfashion, Yillah was an idol to both.
But what of my Viking? Why, of good Jarl I grieve to say, that theold-fashioned interest he took in my affairs led him to look uponYillah as a sort of intruder, an Ammonite syren, who might lead meastray. This would now and then provoke a phillipic; but he wouldonly turn toward my resentment his devotion; and then I was silent.
Unsophisticated as a wild flower in the germ, Yillah seemed incapableof perceiving the contrasted lights in which she was regarded by ourcompanions. And like a true beauty seemed to cherish the presumption,that it was quite impossible for such a person as hers to proveotherwise than irresistible to all.