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- # CHAPTER XXXVII. Taji Still Hunted, And Beckoned
## Overview - What this is (type, form, dates, scope)
Chapter XXXVII, titled "Taji Still Hunted, And Beckoned," is a chapter from the novel [Mardi: And a Voyage Thither](arke:01KG8AJ8ZNB03D0FWFP362WQEN) by Herman Melville. This chapter, extracted from the text file [mardi_vol2.txt](arke:01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9), comprises lines 5028 to 5067 of the novel. It was extracted on January 30, 2026, as part of the [Melville Complete Works](arke:01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW) collection.
## Context - Background and provenance from related entities
This chapter is part of Melville's novel *Mardi: And a Voyage Thither*, which is contained within the larger "Melville Complete Works" collection. The text was extracted from the file "mardi_vol2.txt". It follows [CHAPTER XXXVI. They Attend The Games](arke:01KG8AJRBWN0BRQCNFT0CX6SN6) and precedes [CHAPTER XXXVIII. They Embark From Diranda](arke:01KG8AJRBWV0SKNHZVG3CGPQC6).
## Contents - What it contains, key subjects and details
The chapter opens with Taji and his companions being hunted in the woods. They encounter the damsels and syrens, who offer them gifts and try to tempt Taji. Taji, however, rejects their advances, choosing to face his fate.
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- 2026-01-30T20:49:05.469Z
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- gemini-2.5-flash-lite
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- CHAPTER XXXVII. Taji Still Hunted, And Beckoned
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- 5067
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- 2026-01-30T20:47:38.723Z
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- start_line
- 5028
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- CHAPTER XXXVII.
Taji Still Hunted, And Beckoned
Previous to the kings’ flight, we had plunged into the neighboring
woods; and from thence emerging, entered brakes of cane, sprouting from
morasses. Soon we heard a whirring, as if three startled partridges had
taken wing; it proved three feathered arrows, from three unseen hands.
Gracing us, two buried in the ground, but from Taji’s arm, the third
drew blood.
On all sides round we turned; but none were seen. “Still the avengers
follow,” said Babbalanja.
“Lo! the damsels three!” cried Yoomy. “Look where they come!”
We joined them by the sumach-wood’s red skirts; and there, they waved
their cherry stalks, and heavy bloated cactus leaves, their crimson
blossoms armed with nettles; and before us flung shining, yellow,
tiger-flowers spotted red.
“Blood!” cried Yoomy, starting, “and leopards on your track!”
And now the syrens blew through long reeds, tasseled with their
panicles, and waving verdant scarfs of vines, came dancing toward us,
proffering clustering grapes.
“For all now yours, Taji; and all that yet may come,” cried Yoomy, “fly
to me! I will dance away your gloom, and drown it in inebriation.”
“Away! woe is its own wine. What may be mine, that will I endure, in
its own essence to the quick. Let me feel the poniard if it stabs.”
They vanished in the wood; and hurrying on, we soon gained sun-light,
and the open glade.
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- CHAPTER XXXVII. Taji Still Hunted, And Beckoned