Mardi. Herman Melville

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Mardi - Herman Melville

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70. They Land At Hooloomooloo

       Chapter 71. A Book From The “Ponderings Of Old Bardianna”

       Chapter 72. Babbalanja Starts To His Feet

       Chapter 73. At Last, The Last Mention Is Made Of Old Bardianna; And His Last Will And Testament Is Recited At Length

       Chapter 74. A Death–Cloud Sweeps By Them, As They Sail

       Chapter 75. They Visit The Palmy King Abrazza

       Chapter 76. Some Pleasant, Shady Talk In The Groves, Between My Lords Abrazza And Media, Babbalanja, Mohi, And Yoomy

       Chapter 77. They Sup

       Chapter 78. They Embark

       Chapter 79. Babbalanja At The Full Of The Moon

       Chapter 80. Morning

       Chapter 81. L’ultima Sera

       Chapter 82. They Sail From Night To Day

       Chapter 83. They Land

       Chapter 84. Babbalanja Relates To Them A Vision

       Chapter 85. They Depart From Serenia

       Chapter 86. They Meet The Phantoms

       Chapter 87. They Draw Nigh To Flozella

       Chapter 88. They Land

       Chapter 89. They Enter The Bower Of Hautia

       Chapter 90. Taji With Hautia

       Chapter 91. Mardi Behind: An Ocean Before

       Table of Contents

      Not long ago, having published two narratives of voyages in the Pacific, which, in many quarters, were received with incredulity, the thought occurred to me, of indeed writing a romance of Polynesian adventure, and publishing it as such; to see whether, the fiction might not, possibly, be received for a verity: in some degree the reverse of my previous experience.

      This thought was the germ of others, which have resulted in Mardi.

       New York, January, 1849.

       Table of Contents

      FOOT IN STIRRUP

       Table of Contents

      We are off! The courses and topsails are set: the coral-hung anchor swings from the bow: and together, the three royals are given to the breeze, that follows us out to sea like the baying of a hound. Out spreads the canvas — alow, aloft-boom-stretched, on both sides, with many a stun’ sail; till like a hawk, with pinions poised, we shadow the sea with our sails, and reelingly cleave the brine.

      But whence, and whither wend ye, mariners?

      We sail from Ravavai, an isle in the sea, not very far northward from the tropic of Capricorn, nor very far westward from Pitcairn’s island, where the mutineers of the Bounty settled. At Ravavai I had stepped ashore some few months previous; and now was embarked on a cruise for the whale, whose brain enlightens the world.

      And from Ravavai we sail for the Gallipagos, otherwise called the Enchanted Islands, by reason of the many wild currents and eddies there met.

      Now, round about those isles, which Dampier once trod, where the Spanish bucaniers once hived their gold moidores, the Cachalot, or sperm whale, at certain seasons abounds.

      But thither, from Ravavai, your craft may not fly, as flies the sea-gull, straight to her nest. For, owing to the prevalence of the trade winds, ships bound to the northeast from the vicinity of Ravavai are fain to take something of a circuit; a few thousand miles or so. First, in pursuit of the variable winds, they make all haste to the south; and there, at length picking up a stray breeze, they stand for the main: then, making their easting, up helm, and away down the coast, toward the Line.

      This round-about way did the Arcturion take; and in all conscience a weary one it was. Never before had the ocean appeared so monotonous; thank fate, never since.

      But bravo! in two weeks’ time, an event. Out of the gray of the morning, and right ahead, as we sailed along, a dark object rose out of the sea; standing dimly before us, mists wreathing and curling aloft, and creamy breakers frothing round its base. — We turned aside, and, at length, when day dawned, passed Massafuero. With a glass, we spied two or three hermit goats winding down to the sea, in a ravine; and presently, a signal: a tattered flag upon a summit beyond. Well knowing, however, that there was nobody on the island but two or three noose-fulls of runaway convicts from Chili, our captain had no mind to comply with their invitation to land. Though, haply, he may have erred in not sending a boat off with his card.

      A few days more and we “took the trades.” Like favors snappishly conferred, they came to us, as is often the case, in a very sharp squall; the shock of which carried away one of our spars; also our fat old cook off his legs; depositing him plump in the scuppers to leeward.

      In good time making the desired longitude upon the equator, a few leagues west of the Gallipagos, we spent several weeks chassezing across the Line, to and fro, in unavailing search for our prey. For some of

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