CHAPTER XLIV. AWAY!
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Though clothed in language of my own, the maiden's
story is in substance the same as she related. Yet were
not these things narrated as past events; she merely recounted
them as impressions of her childhood, and of her
destiny yet unaccomplished. And mystical as the tale most
assuredly was, my knowledge of the strange arts of the
island priesthood, and the rapt fancies indulged in by many
of their victims, deprived it in good part of the effect it
otherwise would have produced.
For ulterior purposes connected with their sacerdotal
supremacy, the priests of these climes oftentimes secrete
mere infants in their temples; and jealously secluding them
from all intercourse with the world, craftily delude them, as
they grow up, into the wildest conceits.
Thus wrought upon, their pupils almost lose their humanity
in the constant indulgence of seraphic imaginings. In
many cases becoming inspired as oracles; and as such, they
are sometimes resorted to by devotees; always screened from
view, however, in the recesses of the temples. But in every
instance, their end is certain. Beguiled with some fairy
tale about revisiting the islands of Paradise, they are led to
the secret sacrifice, and perish unknown to their kindred.
But, would that all this had been hidden from me at
the time. For Yillah was lovely enough to be really
divine; and so I might have been tranced into a belief of
her mystical legends.
But with what passionate exultation did I find myself
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the deliverer of this beautiful maiden; who, thinking no
harm, and rapt in a dream, was being borne to her fate on
the coast of Tedaidee. Nor now, for a moment, did the
death of Aleema her guardian seem to hang heavy upon my
heart. I rejoiced that I had sent him to his gods; that in
place of the sea moss growing over sweet Yillah drowned
in the sea, the vile priest himself had sunk to the bottom.
But though he had sunk in the deep, his ghost sunk not
in the deep waters of my soul. However in exultations its
surface foamed up, at bottom guilt brooded. Sifted out, my
motives to this enterprise justified 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
with questions concerning myself:—Whence I came: being
white, from Oroolia? Whither I was going: to Amma?
And what had happened to Aleema? For she had been
dismayed at the fray, though knowing not what it could
mean; and she had heard the priest's name called upon in
lamentations. These questions for the time I endeavored
to evade; only inducing her to fancy me some gentle demi-god,
that had come over the sea from her own fabulous
Oroolia. And all this she must verily have believed. For
whom, like me, ere this could she have beheld? Still fixed
she her eyes upon me strangely, and hung upon the accents
of my voice.
While this scene was passing, the strangers began to
show signs of impatience, and a voice from the Chamois
repeatedly hailed us to accelerate our movements.
My course was quickly decided. The only obstacle to be
encountered was the possibility of Yillah's alarm at being
suddenly borne into my prow. For this event I now sought
to prepare her. I informed the damsel that Aleema had
been dispatched on a long errand to Oroolia; leaving to my
care, for the present, the guardianship of the lovely Yillah;
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and that therefore, it was necessary to carry her tent into
my own canoe, then waiting to receive it.
This intelligence she received with the utmost concern;
and not knowing to what her perplexity might lead, I
thought fit to transport her into the Chamois, while yet
overwhelmed by the announcement of my intention.
Quitting her retreat, I apprised Jarl of my design; and
then, no more delay!
At bottom, the tent was attached to a light framework
of bamboos; and from its upper corners, four cords, like
those of a marquee, confined it to the dais. These, Samoa's
knife soon parted; when lifting the light tent, we speedily
transferred it to the Chamois; a wild yell going up from
the Islanders, which drowned the faint cries of the maiden.
But we heeded not the din. Toss in the fruit, hanging
from the altar-prow! It was done; and then running up
our sail, we glided away;—Chamois, tent, hostages, and all.
Rushing to the now vacant stern of their canoe, the Islanders
once more lifted up their hands and their voices in curses.
A suitable distance gained, we paused to fling overboard
the arms we had taken; and Jarl proceeded to liberate the
hostages.
Meanwhile, I entered the tent, and by many tokens,
sought to allay the maiden's alarm. Thus engaged, violent
plunges were heard: our prisoners taking to the sea to
regain their canoe. All dripping, they were received by
their brethren with wild caresses.
From something now said by the captives, the rest seemed
suddenly inspirited with hopes of revenge; again wildly
shaking their spears, just before picked up from the sea.
With great clamor and confusion they soon set their matsail;
and instead of sailing southward for Tedaidee, or
northward for Amma their home, they steered straight
after us, in our wake.
Foremost in the prow stood three; javelins poised for a
dart; at intervals, raising a yell.
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Did they mean to pursue me? Full in my rear they
came on, baying like hounds on their game. Yillah trembled
at their cries. My own heart beat hard with undefinable
dread. The corpse of Aleema seemed floating before:
its avengers were raging behind.
But soon these phantoms departed. For very soon it appeared
that in vain the pagans pursued. Their craft, our
fleet Chamois outleaped. And farther and farther astern
dropped the evil-boding canoe, till at last 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, and
gone down. But however it was, my heart lightened
apace. I saw none but ourselves on the sea: I remembered
that our keel left no track as it sailed.
Let the Oregon Indian through brush, bramble, and
brier, hunt his enemy's trail, far over the mountains and
down in the vales; comes he to the water, he snuffs idly
in air.
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Melville, Herman, 1819-1891 [1849], Mardi and a voyage thither, volume 1 (Harper & Brothers, New York) [word count] [eaf275v1].