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- 8541
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- 2026-01-30T20:48:15.153Z
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- dilapidated boots, hanging from a rafter like saddlebags, the doctor
succeeded in exchanging for them a case-knife, the last valuable
article in his possession. For myself, I made sandals from a bullock’s
hide, such as are worn by the Indians in California. They are made in a
minute; the sole, rudely fashioned to the foot, being confined across
the instep by three straps of leather.
Our headgear deserves a passing word. My comrade’s was a brave old
Panama hat, made of grass, almost as fine as threads of silk; and so
elastic that, upon rolling it up, it sprang into perfect shape again.
Set off by the jaunty slouch of this Spanish sombrero, Doctor Long
Ghost, in this and his Eoora, looked like a mendicant grandee.
Nor was my own appearance in an Eastern turban less distinguished. The
way I came to wear it was this. My hat having been knocked overboard a
few days before reaching Papeetee, I was obliged to mount an abominable
wad of parti-coloured worsted—what sailors call a Scotch cap. Everyone
knows the elasticity of knit wool; and this Caledonian head-dress
crowned my temples so effectually that the confined atmosphere
engendered was prejudicial to my curls. In vain I tried to ventilate
the cap: every gash made seemed to heal whole in no time. Then such a
continual chafing as it kept up in a hot sun.
Seeing my dislike to the thing, Kooloo, my worthy friend, prevailed
upon me to bestow it upon him. I did so; hinting that a good boiling
might restore the original brilliancy of the colours.
It was then that I mounted the turban. Taking a new Regatta frock of
the doctor’s, which was of a gay calico, and winding it round my head
in folds, I allowed the sleeves to droop behind—thus forming a good
defence against the sun, though in a shower it was best off. The
pendent sleeves adding much to the effect, the doctor called me the
Bashaw with Two Tails.
Thus arrayed, we were ready for Tamai; in whose green saloons we
counted upon creating no small sensation.
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- Chunk 2