She betrayed much surprise at my Vikings appearance. But most of allwas she struck by a characteristic device upon the arm of thewonderful mariner--our Saviour on the cross, in blue; with the crownof thorns, and three drops of blood in vermilion, falling one by onefrom each hand and foot.
Now, honest Jarl did vastly pride himself upon this ornament. It wasthe only piece of vanity about him. And like a lady keeping glovelessher hand to show off a fine Turquoise ring, he invariably wore thatsleeve of his frock rolled up, the better to display theembellishment.
And round and round would Yillah turn Jarl's arm, till Jarl was fainto stand firm, for fear of revolving all over. How such untutoredhomage would have thrilled the heart of the ingenious artist!
Eventually, through the Upoluan, she made overtures to the Skyeman,concerning the possession of his picture in her own proper right. Inher very simplicity, little heeding, that like a landscape in fresco,it could not be removed.
CHAPTER XLVIIISomething Under The Surface
Not to omit an occurrence of considerable interest, we must needshere present some account of a curious retinue of fish which overtookour Chamois, a day or two after parting with the canoe.
A violent creaming and frothing in our rear announced their approach.Soon we found ourselves the nucleus of an incredible multitude offinny creatures, mostly anonymous.
First, far in advance of our prow, swam the helmeted Silver-heads;side by side, in uniform ranks, like an army. Then came the Boneetas,with their flashing blue flanks. Then, like a third distinctregiment, wormed and twisted through the water like Archimedeanscrews, the quivering Wriggle-tails; followed in turn by the rank andfile of the Trigger-fish--so called from their quaint dorsal finsbeing set in their backs with a comical curve, as if at half-cock.Far astern the rear was brought up by endless battalions of Yellow-backs, right martially vested in buff.
And slow sailing overhead were flights of birds; a wing in the airfor every fin in the sea.
But let the sea-fowls fly on: turn we to the fish.
Their numbers were amazing; countless as the tears shed forperfidious lovers. Far abroad on both flanks, they swam in longlines, tier above tier; the water alive with their hosts. Locusts ofthe sea, peradventure, going to fall with a blight upon some green,mossy province of Neptune. And tame and fearless they were, as thefirst fish that swam in Euphrates; hardly evading the hand; insomuchthat Samoa caught many without lure or line.
They formed a decorous escort; paddling along by our barnacled sides,as if they had been with us from the very beginning; neither scaredby our craft's surging in the water; nor in the least sympathetic atlosing a comrade by the hand of Samoa. They closed in their ranks andswam on.
How innocent, yet heartless they looked! Had a plank dropped out ofour boat, we had sunk to the bottom; and belike, our cheerful retinuewould have paid the last rites to our remains.
But still we kept company; as sociably as you please; Samoa helpinghimself when he listed, and Yillah clapping her hands as the radiantcreatures, by a simultaneous turning round on their silvery bellies,caused the whole sea to glow like a burnished shield.
But what has befallen this poor little Boneeta astern, that he swimsso toilingly on, with gills showing purple? What has he there, towingbehind? It is tangled sea-kelp clinging to its fins. But the cloggedthing strains to keep up with its fellows. Yet little they heed. Awaythey go; every fish for itself, and any fish for Samoa.
At last the poor Boneeta is seen no more. The myriad fins swim on; alonely waste, where the lost one drops behind.
Strange fish! All the live-long day, they were there by our side; andat night still tarried and shone; more crystal and scaly in the palemoonbeams, than in the golden glare of the sun.
How prettily they swim; all silver life; darting hither and thitherbetween their long ranks, and touching their noses, and scrapingacquaintance. No mourning they wear for the Boneeta left far astern;nor for those so cruelly killed by Samoa. No, no; all is glee, fishyglee, and frolicking fun; light hearts and light fins; gay backs andgay spirits.--Swim away, swim away! my merry fins all. Let us roamthe flood; let us follow this monster fish with the barnacled sides;this strange-looking fish, so high out of water; that goes withoutfins. What fish can it be? What rippling is that? Dost hearthe great monster breathe? Why, 'tis sharp at both ends; a taileither way; nor eyes has it any, nor mouth. What a curious fish! whata comical fish! But more comical far, those creatures above, on itshollow back, clinging thereto like the snaky eels, that cling andslide on the back of the Sword fish, our terrible foe. But whatcurious eels these are! Do they deem themselves pretty as we? No, no;for sure, they behold our limber fins, our speckled and beautifulscales. Poor, powerless things! How they must wish they were we, thatroam the flood, and scour the seas with a wish. Swim away; merryfins, swim away! Let him drop, that fellow that halts; make a lane;close in, and fill up. Let him drown, if he can not keep pace. Nolaggards for us:--
We fish, we fish, we merrily swim, We care not for friend nor for foe: Our fins are stout, Our tails are out, As through the seas we go.
Fish, Fish, we are fish with red gills; Naught disturbs us, our blood is at zero: We are buoyant because of our bags, Being many, each fish is a hero. We care not what is it, this life That we follow, this phantom unknown: To swim, it's exceedingly pleasant,-- So swim away, making a foam. This strange looking thing by our side, Not for safety, around it we flee:-- Its shadow's so shady, that's all,-- We only swim under its lee. And as for the eels there above, And as for the fowls in the air, We care not for them nor their ways, As we cheerily glide afar!
We fish, we fish, we merrily swim, We care not for friend nor for foe: Our fins are stout, Our tails are out, As through the seas we go.
But how now, my fine fish! what alarms your long ranks, and tossesthem all into a hubbub of scales and of foam? Never mind that longknave with the spear there, astern. Pipe away, merry fish, and giveus a stave or two more, keeping time with your doggerel tails. Butno, no! their singing was over. Grim death, in the shape of aChevalier, was after them.
How they changed their boastful tune! How they hugged the vilifiedboat! How they wished they were in it, the braggarts! And how theyall tingled with fear!
For, now here, now there, is heard a terrific rushing sound underwater, betokening the onslaught of the dread fish of prey, that withspear ever in rest, charges in upon the out-skirts of the shoal,transfixing the fish on his weapon. Re-treating and shaking them off,the Chevalier devours them; then returns to the charge.
Hugging the boat to desperation, the poor fish fairly crowdedthemselves up to the surface, and floundered upon each other, as menare lifted off their feet in a mob. They clung to us thus, out of afancied security in our presence. Knowing this, we felt no littlealarm for ourselves, dreading lest the Chevalier might despise ourboat, full as much as his prey; and in pursuing the fish, run throughthe poor Chamois with a lunge. A jacket, rolled up, was kept inreadiness to be thrust into the first opening made; while as thethousand fins audibly patted against our slender planks, we feltnervously enough; as if treading upon thin, crackling ice.
At length, to our no small delight, the enemy swam away; and again byour side merrily paddled our escort; ten times merrier than ever.
CHAPTER XLIXYillah
While for a few days, now this way, now that, as our craft glidesalong, surrounded by these locusts of the deep, let the story ofYillah flow on.
Of her beauty say I nothing. It was that of a crystal lake in afathomless wood: all light and shade; full of fleeting revealings;now shadowed in depths; now sunny in dimples; but all sparkling andshifting, and blending together.
But her wild beauty was a vail to things still more strange. As oftenshe gazed so earnestly into my eyes, like some pure spirit lookingfar down into my soul, and seeing therein some upturned faces, Istarted in amaze, and asked what spell was on me, that thus s
he gazed.
Often she entreated me to repeat over and over again certainsyllables of my language. These she would chant to herself, pausingnow and then, as if striving to discover wherein lay their charm.
In her accent, there was something very different from that of thepeople of the canoe. Wherein lay the difference. I knew not; but itenabled her to pronounce with readiness all the words which I taughther; even as if recalling sounds long forgotten.
If all this filled me with wonder, how much was that wonderincreased, and yet baffled again, by considering her complexion, andthe cast of her features.
After endeavoring in various ways to account for these things, I wasled to imagine, that the damsel must be an Albino (Tulla)occasionally to be met with among the people of the Pacific. Thesepersons are of an exceedingly delicate white skin, tinted with afaint rose hue, like the lips of a shell. Their hair is golden. But,unlike the Albinos of other climes, their eyes are invariably blue,and no way intolerant of light.
As a race, the Tullas die early. And hence the belief, that theypertain to some distant sphere, and only through irregularities inthe providence of the gods, come to make their appearance upon earth:whence, the oversight discovered, they are hastily snatched. And itis chiefly on this account, that in those islands where humansacrifices are offered, the Tullas are deemed the most suitableoblations for the altar, to which from their birth many areprospectively devoted. It was these considerations, united to others,which at times induced me to fancy, that by the priest, Yillah wasregarded as one of these beings. So mystical, however, herrevelations concerning her past history, that often I knew not whatto divine. But plainly they showed that she had not the remotestconception of her real origin.
But these conceits of a state of being anterior to an earthlyexistence may have originated in one of those celestial visions seentransparently stealing over the face of a slumbering child. Andcraftily drawn forth and re-echoed by another, and at times repeatedover to her with many additions, these imaginings must at length haveassumed in her mind a hue of reality, heightened into conviction bythe dreamy seclusion of her life.
But now, let her subsequent and more credible history be related, asfrom time to time she rehearsed it.
CHAPTER LYillah In Ardair
In the verdant glen of Ardair, far in the silent interior of Amma,shut in by hoar old cliffs, Yillah the maiden abode.
So small and so deep was this glen, so surrounded on all sides bysteep acclivities, and so vividly green its verdure, and deceptivethe shadows that played there; that, from above, it seemed more likea lake of cool, balmy air, than a glen: its woodlands and grassesgleaming shadowy all, like sea groves and mosses beneath the calm sea.
Here, none came but Aleema the priest, who at times was absent fordays together. But at certain seasons, an unseen multitude with loudchants stood upon the verge of the neighboring precipices, andtraversing those shaded wilds, slowly retreated; their voiceslessening and lessening, as they wended their way through the moredistant groves.
At other times, Yillah being immured in the temple of Apo, a band ofmen entering the vale, surrounded her retreat, dancing there tillevening came. Meanwhile, heaps of fruit, garlands of flowers, andbaskets of fish, were laid upon an altar without, where stood Aleema,arrayed in white tappa, and muttering to himself, as the offeringswere laid at his feet.
When Aleema was gone, Yillah went forth into the glen, and wanderedamong the trees, and reposed by the banks of the stream. And ever asshe strolled, looked down upon her the grim old cliffs, bearded withtrailing moss.
Toward the lower end of the vale, its lofty walls advancingand overhanging their base, almost met in mid air. And a great rock,hurled from an adjacent height, and falling into the spaceintercepted, there remained fixed. Aerial trees shot up from itssurface; birds nested in its clefts; and strange vines roved abroad,overrunning the tops of the trees, lying thereon in coils andundulations, like anacondas basking in the light. Beneath this rock,was a lofty wall of ponderous stones. Between its crevices, peepswere had of a long and leafy arcade, quivering far away to where thesea rolled in the sun. Lower down, these crevices gave an outlet tothe waters of the brook, which, in a long cascade, poured oversloping green ledges near the foot of the wall, into a deep shadypool; whose rocky sides, by the perpetual eddying of the water, hadbeen worn into a grotesque resemblance to a group of giants, withheads submerged, indolently reclining about the basin.
In this pool, Yillah would bathe. And once, emerging, she heard theechoes of a voice, and called aloud. But the only reply, was therustling of branches, as some one, invisible, fled down the valleybeyond. Soon after, a stone rolled inward, and Aleema the prieststood before her; saying that the voice she had heard was his. But itwas not.
At last the weary days grew, longer and longer, and the maiden pinedfor companionship. When the breeze blew not, but slept in the cavesof the mountains, and all the leaves of the trees stood motionless astears in the eye, Yillah would sadden, and call upon the spirits inher soul to awaken. She sang low airs, she thought she had heard inOroolia; but started affrighted, as from dingles and dells, came backto her strains more wild than hers. And ever, when sad, Aleema wouldseek to cheer her soul, by calling to mind the bright scenes ofOroolia the Blest, to which place, he averred, she was shortly toreturn, never more to depart.
Now, at the head of the vale of Ardair, rose a tall, dark peak,presenting at the top the grim profile of a human face; whoseshadow, every afternoon, crept down the verdant side of the mountain:a silent phantom, stealing all over the bosom of the glen.
At times, when the phantom drew near, Aleema would take Yillah forth,and waiting its approach, lay her down by the shadow, disposing herarms in a caress; saying, "Oh, Apo! dost accept thy bride?" And atlast, when it crept beyond the place where he stood, and buried thewhole valley in gloom; Aleema would say, "Arise Yillah; Apo hathstretched himself to sleep in Ardair. Go, slumber where thou wilt;for thou wilt slumber in his arms."
And so, every night, slept the maiden in the arms of grim Apo.
One day when Yillah had come to love the wild shadow, as somethingthat every day moved before her eyes, where all was so deathfullystill; she went forth alone to watch it, as softly it slid down fromthe peak. Of a sudden, when its face was just edging a chasm, thatmade it to look as if parting its lips, she heard a loud voice, andthought it was Apo calling "Yillah! Yillah!" But now it seemed likethe voice she had heard while bathing in the pool. Glancing upward,she beheld a beautiful open-armed youth, gazing down upon her from aninaccessible crag. But presently, there was a rustling in the grovesbehind, and swift as thought, something darted through the air. Theyouth bounded forward. Yillah opened her arms to receive him; but hefell upon the cliff, and was seen no more. As alarmed, and in tears,she fled from the scene, some one out of sight ran before her throughthe wood.
Upon recounting this adventure to Aleema, he said, that the being shehad seen, must have been a bad spirit come to molest her; and thatApo had slain him.
The sight of this youth, filled Yillah with wild yearnings to escapefrom her lonely retreat; for a glimpse of some one beside the priestand the phantom, suggested vague thoughts of worlds of fair beings,in regions beyond Ardair. But Aleema sought to put away theseconceits; saying, that ere long she would be journeying to Oroolia,there to rejoin the spirits she dimly remembered.
Soon after, he came to her with a shell--one of those ever moaning ofocean--and placing it to her ear, bade her list to the being within,which in that little shell had voyaged from Oroolia to bear hercompany in Amma.
Now, the maiden oft held it to her ear, and closing her eyes,listened and listened to its soft inner breathings, till visions wereborn of the sound, and her soul lay for hours in a trance of delight.
And again the priest came, and brought her a milk-white bird, with abill jet-black, and eyes like stars. "In this, lurks the soul of amaiden; it hath flown from Oroolia to greet you." The soft strangerwillingly nestled in her bosom; turning its br
ight eyes upon hers,and softly warbling.
Many days passed; and Yillah, the bird, and the shell wereinseparable. The bird grew familiar; pecked seeds from her mouth;perched upon her shoulder, and sang in her ear; and at night, foldedits wings in her bosom, and, like a sea-fowl, went softly to sleep:rising and falling upon the maiden's heart. And every morning it flewfrom its nest, and fluttered and chirped; and sailed to and fro; andblithely sang; and brushed Yillah's cheek till she woke. Then came toher hand: and Yillah, looking earnestly in its eyes, saw strangefaces there; and said to herself as she gazed--"These are two souls,not one."
But at last, going forth into the groves with the bird, it suddenlyflew from her side, and perched in a bough; and throwing back itswhite downy throat, there gushed from its bill a clear warbling jet,like a little fountain in air. Now the song ceased; when up and awaytoward the head of the vale, flew the bird. "Lil! Lil! come back,leave me not, blest souls of the maidens." But on flew the bird, farup a defile, winging its way till a speck.
It was shortly after this, and upon the evening of a day which hadbeen tumultuous with sounds of warfare beyond the lower wall of theglen; that Aleema came to Yillah in alarm; saying--"Yillah, the timehas come to follow thy bird; come, return to thy home in Oroolia."And he told her the way she would voyage there: by the vortex on thecoast of Tedaidee. That night, being veiled and placed in the tent,the maiden was borne to the sea-side, where the canoe was in waiting.And setting sail quickly, by next morning the island of Amma was nolonger in sight.