CHAPTER LIV. A GENTLEMAN FROM THE SUN.
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Never before had I seen the deep foliage of woodlands
navigated by canoes. But on they came sailing through
the leaves; two abreast; borne on men's shoulders; in
each a chief, carried along to the measured march of his
bearers; paddle-blades reversed under arms. As they
emerged, the multitude made gestures of homage. At the
distance of some eight or ten paces the procession halted;
when the kings alighted to the ground.
They were fine-looking men, arrayed in various garbs.
Rare the show of stained feathers, and jewels, and other
adornments. Brave the floating of dyed mantles.
The regal bearing of these personages, the deference paid
them, and their entire self-possession, not a little surprised
me. And it seemed preposterous, to assume a divine dignity
in the presence of these undoubted potentates of terra
firma. Taji seemed oozing from my fingers' ends. But
courage! and erecting my crest, I strove to look every inch
the character I had determined to assume.
For a time, it was almost impossible to tell with what
emotions precisely the chiefs were regarding me. They said
not a word.
But plucking up heart of grace, I crossed my cutlass on
my chest, and reposing my hand on the hilt, addressed their
High Mightinesses thus. “Men of Mardi, I come from
the sun. When this morning it rose and touched the
wave, I pushed my shallop from its golden beach, and
hither sailed before its level rays. I am Taji.”
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More would have been added, but I paused for the effect
of my exordium.
Stepping back a pace or two, the chiefs eagerly conversed.
Emboldened, I returned to the charge, and labored hard
to impress them with just such impressions of me and mine,
as I deemed desirable. The gentle Yillah was a seraph
from the sun; Samoa I had picked off a reef in my route
from that orb; and as for the Skyeman, why, as his name
imported, he came from above. In a word, we were all
strolling divinities.
Advancing toward the Chamois, one of the kings, a calm
old man, now addressed me as follows:—“Is this indeed
Taji? he, who according to a tradition, was to return to
us after five thousand moons? But that period is yet unexpired.
What bring'st thou hither then, Taji, before thy
time? Thou wast but a quarrelsome demi-god, say the
legends, when thou dwelt among our sires. But wherefore
comest thou, Taji? Truly, thou wilt interfere with the
worship of thy images, and we have plenty of gods besides
thee. But comest thou to fight?—We have plenty of
spears, and desire not thine. Comest thou to dwell?—
Small are the houses of Mardi. Or comest thou to fish in
the sea? Tell us, Taji.”
Now, all this was a series of posers hard to be answered;
furnishing a curious example, moreover, of the reception
given to strange demi-gods when they travel without their
portmanteaus; and also of the familiar manner in which
these kings address the immortals. Much I mourned that
I had not previously studied better my part, and learned
the precise nature of my previous existence in the land.
But nothing like carrying it bravely.
“Attend. Taji comes, old man, because it pleases him
to come. And Taji will depart when it suits him. Ask
the shades of your sires whether Taji thus scurvily greeted
them, when they came stalking into his presence in the land
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of spirits. No. Taji spread the banquet. He removed
their mantles. He kindled a fire to drive away the damp.
He said not, `Come you to fight, you fogs and vapors?
come you to dwell? or come you to fish in the sea?' Go
to, then, kings of Mardi!”
Upon this, the old king fell back; and his place was
supplied by a noble chief, of a free, frank bearing. Advancing
quickly toward the boat, he exclaimed—“I am
Media, the son of Media. Thrice welcome, Taji. On my
island of Odo hast thou an altar. I claim thee for my
guest.” He then reminded the rest, that the strangers had
voyaged far, and needed repose. And, furthermore, that he
proposed escorting them forthwith to his own dominions;
where, next day, he would be happy to welcome all visitants.
And good as his word, he commanded his followers to
range themselves under the Chamois. Springing out of our
prow, the Upoluan was followed by Jarl; leaving Yillah
and Taji to be borne therein toward the sea.
Soon, we were once more afloat; by our side, Media sociably
seated; six of his paddlers, perched upon the gunwale,
swiftly urging us over the lagoon.
The transition from the grove to the sea was instantaneous.
All seemed a dream.
The place to which we were hastening, being some
distance away, as we rounded isle after isle, the extent of
the Archipelago grew upon us greatly.
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Melville, Herman, 1819-1891 [1849], Mardi and a voyage thither, volume 1 (Harper & Brothers, New York) [word count] [eaf275v1].