"Why, old Braid-Beard," cried Media, placing his pipe in rest, "youare almost as erudite as our philosopher here."
"Much more so, my lord," said Babbalanja; "for Mohi has somehow pickedup all my worthless forgettings, which are more than my valuablerememberings."
"What say you, wise one?" cried Mohi, shaking his braids, like anenraged elephant with many trunks.
Said Yoomy: "My lord, I have heard that amber is nothing less than thecongealed tears of broken-hearted mermaids."
"Absurd, minstrel," cried Mohi. "Hark ye; I know what it is. All otherauthorities to the contrary, amber is nothing more than gold-fishes'brains, made waxy, then firm, by the action of the sea."
"Nonsense!" cried Yoomy.
"My lord," said Braid-Beard, waving his pipe, this thing is just as Isay. Imbedded in amber, do we not find little fishes' fins, porpoise-teeth, sea-gulls' beaks and claws; nay, butterflies' wings, andsometimes a topaz? And how could that be, unless the substance wasfirst soft? Amber is gold-fishes' brains, I say."
"For one," said Babbalanja, "I'll not believe that, till you prove tome, Braid-Beard, that ideas themselves are found imbedded therein."
"Another of your crazy conceits, philosopher," replied Mohi,disdainfully; "yet, sometimes plenty of strange black-lettercharacters have been discovered in amber." And throwing back his hoaryold head, he jetted forth his vapors like a whale.
"Indeed?" cried Babbalanja. "Then, my lord Media, it may be earnestlyinquired, whether the gentle laws of the tribes before the flood, werenot sought to be embalmed and perpetuated between transparent andsweet scented tablets of amber."
"That, now, is not so unlikely," said Mohi; "for old King Rondo theRound once set about getting him a coffin-lid of amber; much desiringa famous mass of it owned by the ancestors of Donjalolo of Juam. Butno navies could buy it. So Rondo had himself urned in a crystal."
"And that immortalized Rondo, no doubt," said Babbalanja. "Ha! ha!pity he fared not like the fat porpoise frozen and tombed in aniceberg; its icy shroud drifting south, soon melted away, and down,out of sight, sunk the dead."
"Well, so much for amber," cried Media. "Now, Mohi, go on aboutFarnoo."
"Know, then, my lord, that Farnoo is more like ambergris than amber."
"Is it? then, pray, tell us something on that head. You know all aboutambergris, too, I suppose."
"Every thing about all things, my lord. Ambergris is found both onland and at sea. But especially, are lumps of it picked up on thespicy coasts of Jovanna; indeed, all over the atolls and reefs in theeastern quarter of Mardi."
"But what is this ambergris? Braid-Beard," said Babbalanja.
"Aquovi, the chymist, pronounced it the fragments of mushrooms growingat the bottom of the sea; Voluto held, that like naptha, it springsfrom fountains down there. But it is neither."
"I have heard," said Yoomy, "that it is the honey-comb of bees, fallenfrom flowery cliffs into the brine."
"Nothing of the kind," said Mohi. "Do I not know all about it,minstrel? Ambergris is the petrified gall-stones of crocodiles."
"What!" cried Babbalanja, "comes sweet scented ambergris from thosemusky and chain-plated river cavalry? No wonder, then, their flesh isso fragrant; their upper jaws as the visors of vinaigrettes."
"Nay, you are all wrong," cried King Media.
Then, laughing to himself:--"It's pleasant to sit by, a demi-god, andhear the surmisings of mortals, upon things they know nothing about;theology, or amber, or ambergris, it's all the same. But then, did Ialways out with every thing I know, there would be no conversing withthese comical creatures.
"Listen, old Mohi; ambergris is a morbid secretion of the Spermacetiwhale; for like you mortals, the whale is at times a sort ofhypochondriac and dyspeptic. You must know, subjects, that inantediluvian times, the Spermaceti whale was much hunted by sportsmen,that being accounted better pastime, than pursuing the Behemoths onshore. Besides, it was a lucrative diversion. Now, sometimes uponstriking the monster, it would start off in a dastardly fright,leaving certain fragments in its wake. These fragments the hunterspicked up, giving over the chase for a while. For in those days, asnow, a quarter-quintal of ambergris was more valuable than a whole tonof spermaceti."
"Nor, my lord," said Babbalanja, "would it have been wise to kill thefish that dropped such treasures: no more than to murder the noddythat laid the golden eggs."
"Beshrew me! a noddy it must have been," gurgled Mohi through hispipe-stem, "to lay golden eggs for others to hatch."
"Come, no more of that now," cried Media. "Mohi, how long think you,may one of these pipe-bowls last?"
"My lord, like one's cranium, it will endure till broken. I havesmoked this one of mine more than half a century."
"But unlike our craniums, stocked full of concretions," saidBabbalanja, our pipe-bowls never need clearing out."
"True," said Mohi, "they absorb the oil of the smoke, instead ofallowing it offensively to incrust."
"Ay, the older the better," said Media, "and the more delicious theflavor imparted to the fumes inhaled."
"Farnoos forever! my lord," cried Yoomy. "By much smoking, the bowlwaxes russet and mellow, like the berry-brown cheek of a sunburntbrunette."
"And as like smoked hams," cried Braid-Beard, "we veteran old smokersgrow browner and browner; hugely do we admire to see our jolly nosesand pipe-bowls mellowing together."
"Well said, old man," cried Babbalanja; "for, like a good wife, a pipeis a friend and companion for life. And whoso weds with a pipe, is nolonger a bachelor. After many vexations, he may go home to thatfaithful counselor, and ever find it full of kind consolations andsuggestions. But not thus with cigars or cigarrets: the acquaintancesof a moment, chatted with in by-places, whenever they come handy;their existence so fugitive, uncertain, unsatisfactory. Once ignited,nothing like longevity pertains to them. They never grow old. Why, mylord, the stump of a cigarret is an abomination; and two of themcrossed are more of a _memento-mori_, than a brace of thigh-bones atright angles."
"So they are, so they are," cried King Media. "Then, mortals, puff weaway at our pipes. Puff, puff, I say. Ah! how we puff! But thus wedemi-gods ever puff at our ease."
"Puff; puff, how we puff," cried Babbalanja. "but life itself is apuff and a wheeze. Our lungs are two pipes which we constantly smoke."
"Puff, puff! how we puff," cried old Mohi. "All thought is a puff."
"Ay," said Babbalanja, "not more smoke in that skull-bowl of yoursthan in the skull on your shoulders: both ends alike."
"Puff! puff! how we puff," cried Yoomy. "But in every puff, therehangs a wreath. In every puff, off flies a care."
"Ay, there they go," cried Mohi, "there goes another--and, there, andthere;--this is the way to get rid of them my worshipful lord; puffthem aside."
"Yoomy," said Media, "give us that pipe song of thine. Sing it, mysweet and pleasant poet. We'll keep time with the flageolets of ours."
"So with pipes and puffs for a chorus, thus Yoomy sang:--
Care is all stuff:-- Puff! Puff: To puff is enough:-- Puff! Puff! More musky than snuff, And warm is a puff:-- Puff! Puff! Here we sit mid our puffs, Like old lords in their ruffs, Snug as bears in their muffs:-- Puff! Puff! Then puff, puff, puff; For care is all stuff, Puffed off in a puff:-- Puff! Puff!
"Ay, puff away," cried Babbalanja, "puff; puff, so we are born, and sodie. Puff, puff, my volcanos: the great sun itself will yet go out ina snuff, and all Mardi smoke out its last wick."
"Puffs enough," said King Media, "Vee-Vee! haul down my flag. There,lie down before me, oh Gonfalon! and, subjects, hear,--when I die, laythis spear on my right, and this pipe on my left, its colors at halfmast; so shall I be ambidexter, and sleep between eloquent symbols."
CHAPTER XVIIIThey Visit An Extraordinary Old Antiquary
"About prows there, ye paddlers," cried Media. "In this fog we've beenraising, we have sailed by Padulla, our destination."
Now Padulla, was but
a little island, tributary to a neighboring king;its population embracing some hundreds of thousands of leaves, andflowers, and butterflies, yet only two solitary mortals; one, famousas a venerable antiquarian: a collector of objects of Mardian vertu; acognoscenti, and dilettante in things old and marvelous; and for thatreason, very choice of himself.
He went by the exclamatory cognomen of "Oh-Oh;" a name bestowed uponhim, by reason of the delighted interjections, with which he welcomedall accessions to his museum.
Now, it was to obtain a glimpse of this very museum, that Media wasanxious to touch at Padulla.
Landing, and passing through a grove, we were accosted by Oh-Ohhimself; who, having heard the shouts of our paddlers, had salliedforth, staff in hand.
The old man was a sight to see; especially his nose; a remarkable one.And all Mardi over, a remarkable nose is a prominent feature: an everobvious passport to distinction. For, after all, this gaining a name,is but the individualizing of a man; as well achieved by anextraordinary nose, as by an extraordinary epic. Far better, indeed;for you may pass poets without knowing them. Even a hero, is no herowithout his sword; nor Beelzebub himself a lion, minus that lasso-tailof his, wherewith he catches his prey. Whereas, he who is famousthrough his nose, it is impossible to overlook. He is a celebritywithout toiling for a name. Snugly ensconced behind his proboscis, herevels in its shadow, receiving tributes of attention wherever he goes.
Not to enter at large upon the topography of Oh-Oh's nasal organ, allmust be content with this; that it was of a singular magnitude, andboldly aspiring at the end; an exclamation point in the face of thewearer, forever wondering at the visible universe. The eyes of Oh-Ohwere like the creature's that the Jew abhors: placed slanting in hishead, and converging their rays toward the mouth; which was no Mouth,but a gash.
I mean not to be harsh, or unpleasant upon thee, Oh-Oh; but I mustpaint thee as thou wert.
The rest of his person was crooked, and dwarfed, and surmounted by ahump, that sat on his back like a burden. And a weary load is a hump,Heaven knows, only to be cast off in the grave.
Thus old, and antiquated, and gable-ended, was the tabernacle of Oh-Oh's soul. But his person was housed in as curious a structure. Builtof old boughs of trees blown down in the groves, and covered over withunruly thatching, it seemed, without, some ostrich nest. But within,so intricate, and grotesque, its brown alleys and cells, that theinterior of no walnut was more labyrinthine.
And here, strewn about, all dusty and disordered, were the preciousantiques, and curios, and obsoletes, which to Oh-Oh were dear as theapple of his eye, or the memory of departed days.
The old man was exceedingly importunate, in directing attention to hisrelics; concerning each of which, he had an endless story to tell.Time would fail; nay, patience, to repeat his legends. So, in order,here follow the most prominent of his rarities:--
The identical Canoe, in which, ages back, the god Unja came from the bottom of the sea. (Very ponderous; of lignum-vitae wood).
A stone Flower-pot, containing in the original soil, Unja's last footprints, when he embarked from Mardi for parts unknown. (One foot-print unaccountably reversed).
The Jaw-bones of Tooroorooloo, a great orator in the days of Unja. (Somewhat twisted).
A quaint little Fish-hook. (Made from the finger-bones of Kravi the Cunning).
The mystic Gourd; carved all over with cabalistic triangles, and hypogrifs; by study of which a reputed prophet, was said to have obtained his inspiration. (Slightly redolent of vineyards).
The complete Skeleton of an immense Tiger-shark; the bones of a Pearl-shell-diver's leg inside. (Picked off the reef at low tide).
An inscrutable, shapeless block of a mottled-hued, smoke-dried wood. (Three unaccountable holes drilled through the middle).
A sort of ecclesiastical Fasces, being the bony blades of nine sword- fish, basket-hilted with shark's jaws, braided round and tasseled with cords of human hair. (Now obsolete).
The mystic Fan with which Unja fanned himself when in trouble. (Woven from the leaves of the Water-Lily).
A Tripod of a Stork's Leg, supporting a nautilus shell, containing the fragments of a bird's egg; into which, was said to have been magically decanted the soul of a deceased chief. (Unfortunately crushed in by atmospheric pressure).
Two clasped Right Hands, embalmed; being those of twin warriors, who thus died on a battle-field. (Impossible to sunder).
A curious Pouch, or Purse, formed from the skin of an Albatross' foot, and decorated with three sharp claws, naturally pertaining to it. (Originally the property of a notorious old Tooth-per-Tooth).
A long tangled lock of Mermaid's Hair, much resembling the curling silky fibres of the finer sea-weed. (Preserved between fins of the dolphin).
A Mermaid's Comb for the toilet. The stiff serrated crest of a Cook Storm-petrel (Oh-Oh was particularly curious concerning Mermaids).
Files, Rasps, and Pincers, all bone, the implements of an eminent Chiropedist, who flourished his tools before the flood. (Owing to the excessive unevenness of the surface in those times, the diluvians were peculiarly liable to pedal afflictions).
The back Tooth, that Zozo the Enthusiast, in token of grief, recklessly knocked out at the decease of a friend. (Worn to a stump and quite useless).
These wonders inspected, Oh-Oh conducted us to an arbor, to show usthe famous telescope, by help of which, he said he had discovered anant-hill in the moon. It rested in the crotch of a Bread-fruit tree;and was a prodigiously long and hollow trunk of a Palm; a scale from asea-kraken its lens.
Then returning to his cabinet, he pointed to a bamboo microscope,which had wonderfully assisted him in his entomological pursuits.
"By this instrument, my masters," said he, "I have satisfied myself,that in the eye of a dragon-fly there are precisely twelve thousandfive hundred and forty-one triangular lenses; and in the leg of aflea, scores on scores of distinct muscles. Now, my masters, how farthink you a flea may leap at one spring? Why, two hundred times itsown length; I have often measured their leaps, with a small measure Iuse for scientific purposes."
"Truly, Oh-Oh," said Babbalanja, "your discoveries must ere longresult in something grand; since you furnish such invaluable data fortheorists. Pray, attend, my lord Media. If, at one spring, a flealeaps two hundred times its own length, then, with the like proportionof muscles in his calves, a bandit might pounce upon the unwarytraveler from a quarter of a mile off. Is it not so, Oh-Oh?"
"Indeed, but it is, my masters. And one of the greatest consolations Idraw from these studies, is the ever-strengthening conviction of thebeneficent wisdom that framed our Mardi. For did men possess thighs inproportion to fleas, verily, the wicked would grievously leap about,and curvet in the isles."
"But Oh-Oh," said Babbalanja, "what other discoveries have you made?Hast yet put a usurer under your lens, to find his conscience? or alibertine, to find his heart? Hast yet brought your microscope to bearupon a downy peach, or a rosy cheek?"
"I have," said Oh-Oh, mournfully; "and from the moment I so did, Ihave had no heart to eat a peach, or salute a cheek."
"Then dash your lens!" cried Media.
"Well said, my lord. For all the eyes we get beyond our own, butminister to infelicity. The microscope disgusts us with our Mardi; andthe telescope sets us longing for some other world."
CHAPTER XIXThey Go Down Into The Catacombs
With a dull flambeau, we now descended some narrow stone steps, toview Oh-Oh's collection of ancient and curious manuscripts, preservedin a vault.
"This way, this way, my masters," cried Oh-Oh, aloft, swinging his dimtorch. "Keep your hands before you; it's a dark road to travel."
"So it seems," said Babbalanja, wi
de-groping, as he descended lowerand lower. "My lord this is like going down to posterity."
Upon gaining the vault, forth flew a score or two of bats,extinguishing the flambeau, and leaving us in darkness, like Belzonideserted by his Arabs in the heart of a pyramid. The torch at lastrelumed, we entered a tomb-like excavation, at every step raisingclouds of dust; and at last stood before long rows of musty, mummyishparcels, so dingy-red, and so rolled upon sticks, that they lookedlike stiff sausages of Bologna; but smelt like some fine old Stiltonor Cheshire.
Most ancient of all, was a hieroglyphical Elegy on the Dumps,consisting of one thousand and one lines; the characters,--herons,weeping-willows, and ravens, supposed to have been traced by a quillfrom the sea-noddy.
Then there were plenty of rare old ballads:-- "King Kroko, and the Fisher Girl." "The Fight at the Ford of Spears." "The Song of the Skulls."
And brave old chronicles, that made Mohi's mouth water:-- "The Rise and Setting of the Dynasty of Foofoo." "The Heroic History of the Noble Prince Dragoni; showing how he killed ten Pinioned Prisoners with his Own Hand." "The whole Pedigree of the King of Kandidee, with that of his famous horse, Znorto."
And Tarantula books:-- "Sour Milk for the Young, by a Dairyman." "The Devil adrift, by a Corsair." "Grunts and Groans, by a Mad Boar." "Stings, by a Scorpion."