by a net. The fishing parties met there, when they came in from the sea, for their offerings were laid before an image, upon a smooth black stone within. This spot Jimmy said was strictly ‘taboo’, and no one would molest or come near him while he stayed by its shadow. The old sailor then went off, and began speaking very earnestly to Mow-Mow and some other chiefs, while all the rest formed a circle round the taboo place, looking intently at Toby, and talking to each other without ceasing.
Now, notwithstanding what Jimmy had just told him, there presently came up to my comrade an old woman, who seated herself beside him on the canoe.
‘Typee motarkee?’ said she. ‘Motarkee nuee,’ said Toby.
She then asked him whether he was going to Nukuheva; he nodded yes; and with a plaintive wail and her eyes filling with tears she rose and left him.
This old woman, the sailor afterwards said, was the wife of an aged king of a small island valley, communicating by a deep pass with the country of the Typees. The inmates of the two valleys were related to each other by blood, and were known by the same name. The old woman had gone down into the Typee valley the day before, and was now with three chiefs, her sons, on a visit to her kinsmen.
As the old king’s wife left him, Jimmy again came up to Toby, and told him that he had just talked the whole matter over with the natives, and there was only one course for him to follow. They would not allow him to go back into the valley, and harm would certainly come to both him and me, if he remained much longer on the beach. ‘So,’ said he, ‘you and I had better go to Nukuheva now overland, and tomorrow I will bring Tommo, as they call him, by water; they have promised to carry him down to the sea for me early in the morning, so that there will be no delay.’
‘No, no,’ said Toby desperately, ‘I will not leave him that way; we must escape together.’
‘Then there is no hope for you,’ exclaimed the sailor, ‘for if I leave you here on the beach, as soon as I am gone you will be carried back into the valley, and then neither of you will ever look upon the sea again.’ And with many oaths he swore that if he would only go to Nukuheva with him that day, he would be sure to have me there the very next morning.
‘But how do you know they will bring him down to the beach tomorrow, when they will not do so today?’ said Toby. But the sailor had many reasons, all of which were so mixed up with the mysterious customs of the islanders, that he was none the wiser. Indeed, their conduct, especially in preventing him from returning into the valley, was absolutely unaccountable to him; and added to everything else, was the bitter reflection, that the old sailor, after all, might possibly be deceiving him. And then again he had to think of me, left alone with the natives, and by no means well. If he went with Jimmy, he might at least hope to procure some relief for me. But might not the savages who had acted so strangely, hurry me off somewhere before his return? Then, even if he remained, perhaps they would not let him go back into the valley where I was.
Thus perplexed was my poor comrade; he knew not what to do, and his courageous spirit was of no use to him now. There he was, all by himself, seated upon the broken canoe—the natives grouped around him at a distance, and eyeing him more and more fixedly. ‘It is getting late: said Jimmy, who was standing behind the rest. ‘Nukuheva is far off, and I cannot cross the Happar country by night. You see how it is;—if you come along with me, all will be well; if you do not, depend upon it, neither of you will ever escape.’
‘There is no help for it,’ said Toby, at last, with a heavy heart, ‘I will have to trust you,’ and he came out from the shadow of the little shrine, and cast a long look up the valley.
‘Now keep close to my side,’ said the sailor, ‘and let us be moving quickly.’ Tinor and Fayaway here appeared; the kindhearted old woman embracing Toby’s knees, and giving way to a flood of tears; while Fayaway, hardly less moved, spoke some few words of English she had learned, and held up three fingers before him—in so many days he would return.
At last Jimmy pulled Toby out of the crowd, and after calling to a young Typee who was standing by with a young pig in his arms, all three started for the mountains.
‘I have told them that you are coming back again,’ said the old fellow, laughing, as they began the ascent, ‘but they’ll have to wait a long time.’ Toby turned, and saw the natives all in motion—the girls waving their tappas in adieu, and the men their spears. As the last figure entered the grove with one arm raised, and the three fingers spread, his heart smote him.
As the natives had at last consented to his going, it might have been, that some of them, at least, really counted upon his speedy return; probably supposing, as indeed he had told them when they were coming down the valley, that his only object in leaving them was to procure the medicines I needed. This, Jimmy also must have told them. And as they had done before, when my comrade, to oblige me, started on his perilous journey to Nukuheva, they looked upon me, in his absence, as one of two inseparable friends who was a sure guaranty for the other’s return. This is only my own supposition, however, for as to all their strange conduct, it is still a mystery.
‘You see what sort of a taboo man I am,’ said the sailor, after for some time silently following the path which led up the mountain. ‘Mow-Mow made me a present of this pig here, and the man who carries it will go right through Happar, and down into Nukuheva with us. So long as he stays by me he is safe, and just so it will be with you, and tomorrow with Tommo. Cheer up, then, and rely upon me, you will see him in the morning.’
The ascent of the mountain was not very difficult, owing to its being near to the sea, where the island ridges are comparatively low; the path, too, was a fine one, so that in a short time all three were standing on the summit with the two valleys at their feet. The white cascade marking the green head of the Typee valley first caught Toby’s eye; Marheyo’s house could easily be traced by them.
As Jimmy led the way along the ridge, Toby observed that the valley of the Happars did not extend near so far inland as that of the Typees. This accounted for our mistake in entering the latter valley as we had.
A path leading down from the mountain was soon seen, and, following it, the party were in a short time fairly in the Happar valley.
‘Now,’ said Jimmy, as they hurried on, ‘we taboo men have wives in all the bays, and I am going to show you the two I have here.’
So, when they came to the house where he said they lived,—which was close by the base of the mountain in a shady nook among the groves—he went in, and was quite furious at finding it empty—the ladies, had gone out. However, they soon made their appearance, and to tell the truth, welcomed Jimmy quite cordially, as well as Toby, about whom they were very inquisitive. Nevertheless, as the report of their arrival spread, and the Happars began to assemble, it became evident that the appearance of a white stranger among them was not by any means deemed so wonderful an event as in the neighbouring valley.
The old sailor now bade his wives prepare something to eat, as he must be in Nukuheva before dark. A meal of fish, bread-fruit, and bananas, was accordingly served up, the party regaling themselves on the mats, in the midst of a numerous company.
The Happars put many questions to Jimmy about Toby; and Toby himself looked sharply at them, anxious to recognize the fellow who gave him the wound from which he was still suffering. But this fiery gentleman, so handy with his spear, had the delicacy, it seemed, to keep out of view. Certainly the sight of him would not have been any added inducement to making a stay in the valley,—some of the afternoon loungers in Happar having politely urged Toby to spend a few days with them,—there was a feast coming on. He, however, declined.
All this while the young Typee stuck to Jimmy like his shadow, and though
