"In much that is precious, Mohi, we poets are the true historians; weembalm; you corrode."
To this Mohi, with some ire, was about to make answer, when, flingingover his shoulder a new fold of his mantle, Babbalanja spoke thus:"Peace, rivals. As Bardianna has it, like all who dispute uponpretensions of their own, you are each nearest the right, when youspeak of the other; and furthest therefrom, when you speak ofyourselves."
Said Mohi and Yoomy in a breath, "Who sought your opinion,philosopher? you filcher from old Bardianna, and monger of maxims!"
"You, who have so long marked the vices of Mardi, that you flatteryourself you have none of your own," added Braid-Beard.
"You, who only seem wise, because of the contrasting follies ofothers, and not of any great wisdom in yourself," continued theminstrel, with unwonted asperity."
"Now here," said Babballanja, "am I charged upon by a bearded oldram, and a lamb. One butting with his carious and brittle oldfrontlet; the other pushing with its silly head before its horns aresprouted. But this comes of being impartial. Had I espoused the causeof Yoomy versus Mohi, or that of Mohi versus Yoomy, I had been sureto have had at least one voice in my favor. The impartialistinsulteth all sides, saith old Bardianna; but smite with but onehand, and the other shall be kissed.--Oh incomparable Bardianna!"
"Will no one lay that troubled old ghost," exclaimed Media, devoutly."Proceed with thy legend, Yoomy; and see to it, that it be brief; forI mistrust me, these legends do but test the patience of the hearers.But draw a long breath, and begin."
"A long bow," muttered Mohi.
And Yoomy began.
"It is now about ten hundred thousand moons--"
"Great Oro! How long since, say you?" cried Mohi, making Gothicarches of his brows.
Looking at him disdainfully, but vouchsafing no reply, Yoomy beganover again.
"It is now above ten hundred thousand moons, since there died the lastof a marvelous race, once inhabiting the very shores by which we aresailing. They were a very diminutive people, only a few inches high--"
"Stop, minstrel," cried Mohi; "how many pennyweights did they weigh?"
Continued Yoomy, unheedingly, "They were covered all over with asoft, silky down, like that on the rind of the Avee; and there grewupon their heads a green, lance-leaved vine, of a most delicatetexture. For convenience, the manikins reduced their tendrils,sporting, nothing but coronals. Whereas, priding themselves upon theredundancy of their tresses, the little maidens assiduously wateredthem with the early dew of the morning; so that all wreathed andfestooned with verdure, they moved about in arbors, trailing afterthem trains."
"I can hear no more," exclaimed Mohi, stopping his ears.
Continued Yoomy, "The damsels lured to their bowers, certain red-plumaged insect-birds, and taught them to nestle therein, and warble;which, with the pleasant vibrating of the leaves, when the littlemaidens moved, produced a strange blending of sweet, singing sounds.The little maidens embraced not with their arms, but with their vinylocks; whose tendrils instinctively twined about their lovers, tillboth were lost in the bower."
"And what then?" asked Mohi, who, notwithstanding the fingers in hisears, somehow contrived to listen; "What then?"
Vouchsafing no reply, Yoomy went on.
"At a certain age, but while yet the maidens were very young, theirvines bore blossoms. Ah! fatal symptoms. For soon as they burst, themaidens died in their arbors; and were buried in the valleys;and their vines spread forth; and the flowers bloomed; but themaidens themselves were no more. And now disdaining the earth, thevines shot upward: climbing to the topmost boughs of the trees; andflowering in the sunshine forever and aye."
Yoomy here paused for a space; but presently continued:
"The little eyes of the people of Tupia were very strange to behold:full of stars, that shone from within, like the Pleiades, deep-bosomed in blue. And like the stars, they were intolerant ofsunlight; and slumbering through the day, the people of Tupia onlywent abroad by night. But it was chiefly when the moon was at full,that they were mostly in spirits.
"Then the little manikins would dive down into the sea, and roveabout in the coral groves, making love to the mermaids. Or, racinground, make a mad merry night of it with the sea-urchins:--pluckingthe reverend mullets by the beard; serenading the turtles in theircells; worrying the sea-nettles; or tormenting with their antics thetouchy torpedos. Sometimes they went prying about with the starfish,that have an eye at the end of each ray; and often with coral filesin their hands stole upon slumbering swordfish, slyly blunting theirweapons. In short, these stout little manikins were passionately fondof the sea, and swore by wave and billow, that sooner or later theywould embark thereon in nautilus shells, and spend the rest of theirroving days thousands of inches from Tupia. Too true, they wereshameless little rakes. Oft would they return to their sweethearts,sporting musky girdles of sea-kelp, tasseled with green littlepouches of grass, brimful of seed-pearls; and jingling their coin inthe ears of the damsels, throw out inuendoes about the beautiful andbountiful mermaids: how wealthy and amorous they were, and how theydelighted in the company of the brave gallants of Tupia. Ah! at suchheartless bravadoes, how mourned the poor little nymphs. Deep intotheir arbors they went; and their little hearts burst likerose-buds, and filled the whole air with an odorous grief. But whentheir lovers were gentle and true, no happier maidens haunted thelilies than they. By some mystical process they wrought minute ballsof light: touchy, mercurial globules, very hard to handle; and withthese, at pitch and toss, they played in the groves. Or mischievouslyinclined, they toiled all night long at braiding the moon-beamstogether, and entangling the plaited end to a bough; so that atnight, the poor planet had much ado to set."
Here Yoomy once more was mute.
"Pause you to invent as you go on?" said old Mohi, elevating hischin, till his beard was horizontal.
Yoomy resumed.
"Little or nothing more, my masters, is extant of the legend; only itmust be mentioned, that these little people were very tasteful intheir personal adornings; the manikins wearing girdles of fragrantleaves, and necklaces of aromatic seeds; and the little damsels, notcontent with their vines, and their verdure, sporting pearls in theirears; bracelets of wee little porpoise teeth; and oftentimes dancingwith their mates in the moonlit glades, coquettishly fannedthemselves with the transparent wings of the flying fish."
"Now, I appeal to you, royal Media; to you, noble Taji; to you,Babbalanja;" said the chronicler, with an impressive gesture,"whether this seems a credible history: Yoomy has invented."
"But perhaps he has entertained, old Mohi," said Babbalanja.
"He has not spoken the truth," persisted the chronicler.
"Mohi," said Babbalanja, "truth is in things, and not in words: truthis voiceless; so at least saith old Bardianna. And I, Babbalanja,assert, that what are vulgarly called fictions are as much realitiesas the gross mattock of Dididi, the digger of trenches; for thingsvisible are but conceits of the eye: things imaginative, conceits ofthe fancy. If duped by one, we are equally duped by the other."
"Clear as this water," said Yoomy.
"Opaque as this paddle," said Mohi, "But, come now, thou oracle, ifall things are deceptive, tell us what is truth?"
"The old interrogatory; did they not ask it when the world began? Butask it no more. As old Bardianna hath it, that question is more finalthan any answer."
CHAPTER XCIVOf That Jolly Old Lord, Borabolla; And That Jolly Island Of His,Mondoldo; And Of The Fish-Ponds, And The Hereafters Of Fish
Drawing near Mondoldo, our next place of destination, we were greetedby six fine canoes, gayly tricked out with streamers, and all alivewith the gestures of their occupants. King Borabolla and court werehastening to welcome our approach; Media, unbeknown to all, havingnotified him at the Banquet of the Five-and-Twenty Kings, of ourintention to visit his dominions.
Soon, side by side, these canoes floated with ours; each barge of Odocourteously flanked by those of Mondoldo.
/> Not long were we in identifying Borabolla: the portly, pleasant oldmonarch, seated cross-legged upon a dais, projecting over the bow ofthe largest canoe of the six, close-grappling to the side of the SeaElephant.
Was he not a goodly round sight to behold? Round all over; round ofeye and of head; and like the jolly round Earth, roundest and biggestabout the Equator. A girdle of red was his Equinoctial Line, giving acompactness to his plumpness.
This old Borabolla permitted naught to come between his head and thesun; not even gray hairs. Bald as a gourd, right down on his brazenskull, the rays of the luminary converged.
He was all hilarity; full of allusions to the feast at Willamilla,where he had done royal execution. Rare old Borabolla! thou wert madefor dining out; thy ample mouth an inlet for good cheer, and asally-port for good humor.
Bustling about on his dais, he now gave orders for the occupants ofour canoes to be summarily emptied into his own; saying, that in thatmanner only did he allow guests to touch the beach of Mondoldo.
So, with no little trouble--for the waves were grown somewhatriotous--we proceeded to comply; bethinking ourselves all the while,how annoying is sometimes an over-strained act of hospitality.
We were now but little less than a mile from the shore. But what ofthat? There was plenty of time, thought Borabolla, for a hasty lunch,and the getting of a subsequent appetite ere we effected a landing.So viands were produced; to which the guests were invited to payheedful attention; or take the consequences, and famish till the longvoyage in prospect was ended.
Soon the water shoaled (approaching land is like nearing truth inmetaphysics), and ere we yet touched the beach, Borabolla declared,that we were already landed. Which paradoxical assertion implied,that the hospitality of Mondoldo was such, that in all directions itradiated far out upon the lagoon, embracing a great circle; so thatno canoe could sail by the island, without its occupants being solong its guests.
In most hospitable vicinity to the water, was a fine large structure,inclosed by a stockade; both rather dilapidated; as if the cost ofentertaining its guests, prevented outlays for repairing the place.But it was one of Borabolla's maxims, that generally your tumble-downold homesteads yield the most entertainment; their very dilapidationbetokening their having seen good service in hospitality; whereas,spruce-looking, finical portals, have a phiz full of meaning; forniggards are oftentimes neat.
Now, after what has been said, who so silly as to fancy, that becauseBorabolla's mansion was inclosed by a stockade, that the samewas intended as a defense against guests? By no means. In thepalisade was a mighty breach, not an entrance-way, wide enough toadmit six Daniel Lamberts abreast.
"Look," cried Borabolla, as landing we stepped toward the place."Look Media! look all. These gates, you here see, lashed back withosiers, have been so lashed during my life-time; and just where theystand, shall they rot; ay, they shall perish wide open."
"But why have them at all?" inquired Media.
"Ah! there you have old Borabolla," cried the other.
"No," said Babbalanja, "a fence whose gate is ever kept open, seemsunnecessary, I grant; nevertheless, it gives a notable hint,otherwise not so aptly conveyed; for is not the open gate the sign ofthe open heart?"
"Right, right," cried Borabolla; "so enter both, cousin Media;" andwith one hand smiting his chest, with the other he waved us on.
But if the stockade seemed all open gate, the structure within seemedonly a roof; for nothing but a slender pillar here and there,supported it.
"This is my mode of building," said Borabolla; "I will have nooutside to my palaces. Walls are superfluous. And to a high-mindedguest, the entering a narrow doorway is like passing under a yoke;every time he goes in, or comes out, it reminds him, that he is beingentertained at the cost of another. So storm in all round."
Within, was one wide field-bed; where reclining, we looked up toendless rows of brown calabashes, and trenchers suspended along therafters; promissory of ample cheer as regiments of old hams in abaronial refectory.
They were replenished with both meat and drink; the trenchers readilyaccessible by means of cords; but the gourds containing arrack,suspended neck downward, were within easy reach where they swung.
Seeing all these indications of hard roystering; like acautious young bridegroom at his own marriage merry-making, Tajistood on his guard. And when Borabolla urged him to empty a gourd ortwo, by way of making room in him for the incidental repast about tobe served, Taji civilly declined; not wishing to cumber the floor,before the cloth was laid.
Jarl, however, yielding to importunity, and unmindful of the unitiesof time and place, went freely about, from gourd to gourd, concoctingin him a punch. At which, Samoa expressed much surprise, that heshould be so unobservant as not to know, that in Mardi, guests mightbe pressed to demean themselves, without its being expected that sothey would do. A true toss-pot himself, he bode his time.
The second lunch over, Borabolla placed both hands to the ground, andgiving the sigh of the fat man, after three vigorous efforts,succeeded in gaining his pins; which pins of his, were but small forhis body; insomuch that they hugely staggered about, under the fineold load they carried.
The specific object of his thus striving after an erect posture, wasto put himself in motion, and conduct us to his fish-ponds, famousthroughout the Archipelago as the hobby of the king of Mondoldo.Furthermore, as the great repast of the day, yet to take place, wasto be a grand piscatory one, our host was all anxiety, that we shouldhave a glimpse of our fish, while yet alive and hearty.
We were alarmed at perceiving, that certain servitors were preparingto accompany us with trenchers of edibles. It begat the notion, thatour trip to the fish-ponds was to prove a long journey. But they werenot three hundred yards distant; though Borabolla being a veterantraveler, never stirred from his abode without his battalion of butlers.
The ponds were four in number, close bordering the water, embracingabout an acre each, and situated in a low fen, draining severalvalleys. The excavated soil was thrown up in dykes, made tight bybeing beaten all over, while in a soft state, with the heavy, flatends of Palm stalks. Lving side by side, by three connectingtrenches, these ponds could be made to communicate at pleasure; whiletwo additional canals afforded means of letting in upon them the saltwaters of the lagoon on one hand, or those of an inland stream on theother. And by a third canal with four branches, together orseparately, they could be partially drained. Thus, the waters couldbe mixed to suit any gills; and the young fish taken from the sea,passed through a stated process of freshening; so that by the timethey graduated, the salt was well out of them, like the brains out ofsome diplomaed collegians.
Fresh-water fish are only to be obtained in Mondoldo by theartificial process above mentioned; as the streams and brooks aboundnot in trout or other Waltonian prey.
Taken all floundering from the sea, Borabolla's fish, passing throughtheir regular training for the table, and daily tended by theirkeepers, in course of time became quite tame and communicative. Toprove which, calling his Head Ranger, the king bade him administerthe customary supply of edibles.
Accordingly, mouthfuls were thrown into the ponds. Whereupon, thefish darted in a shoal toward the margin; some leaping out of thewater in their eagerness. Crouching on the bank, the Ranger nowcalled several by name, patted their scales, carrying on someheathenish nursery-talk, like St. Anthony, in ancient Coptic,instilling virtuous principles into his finny flock on the sea shore.
But alas, for the hair-shirted old dominie's backsliding disciples.For, of all nature's animated kingdoms, fish are the mostunchristian, inhospitable, heartless, and cold-blooded of creatures.At least, so seem they to strangers; though at bottom, somehow, theymust be all right. And truly it is not to be wondered at, that thevery reverend Anthony strove after the conversion of fish. For, whososhall Christianize, and by so doing, humanize the sharks, will do agreater good, by the saving of human life in all time to come,than though he made catechumens of the head-hunting
Dyaks of Borneo,or the blood-bibbing Battas of Sumatra. And are these Dyaks andBattas one whit better than tiger-sharks? Nay, are they so good? Werea Batta your intimate friend, you would often mistake an orang-outangfor him; and have orang-outangs immortal souls? True, the Battasbelieve in a hereafter; but of what sort? Full of Blue-Beards andbloody bones. So, also, the sharks; who hold that Paradise is onevast Pacific, ploughed by navies of mortals, whom an endless galeforever drops into their maws.
Not wholly a surmise. For, does it not appear a little unreasonableto imagine, that there is any creature, fish, flesh, or fowl, solittle in love with life, as not to cherish hopes of a future state?Why does man believe in it? One reason, reckoned cogent, is, that hedesires it. Who shall say, then, that the leviathan this dayharpooned on the coast of Japan, goes not straight to his ancestor,who rolled all Jonah, as a sweet morsel, under his tongue?
Though herein, some sailors are slow believers, or at best holdthemselves in a state of philosophical suspense. Say they--"Thatcatastrophe took place in the Mediterranean; and the only whalesfrequenting the Mediterranean, are of a sort having not a swallowlarge enough to pass a man entire; for those Mediterranean whalesfeed upon small things, as horses upon oats." But hence, the sailorsdraw a rash inference. Are not the Straits of Gibralter wide enoughto admit a sperm-whale, even though none have sailed through, sinceNineveh and the gourd in its suburbs dried up?
As for the possible hereafter of the whales; a creature eighty feetlong without stockings, and thirty feet round the waist beforedinner, is not inconsiderately to be consigned to annihilation.