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- CHAPTER LXIX.
The Company Discourse, And Braid-Beard Rehearses A Legend
Finding in Valapee no trace of her whom we sought, and but little
pleased with the cringing demeanor of the people, and the wayward
follies of Peepi their lord, we early withdrew from the isle.
As we glided away, King Media issued a sociable decree. He declared it
his royal pleasure, that throughout the voyage, all stiffness and state
etiquette should be suspended: nothing must occur to mar the freedom of
the party. To further this charming plan, he doffed his symbols of
royalty, put off his crown, laid aside his scepter, and assured us that
he would not wear them again, except when we landed; and not
invariably, then.
“Are we not all now friends and companions?” he said. “So companions
and friends let us be. I unbend my bow; do ye likewise.”
“But are we not to be dignified?” asked Babbalanja.
“If dignity be free and natural, be as dignified as you please; but
away with rigidities.”
“Away they go,” said Babbalanja; “and, my lord, now that you mind me of
it, I have often thought, that it is all folly and vanity for any man
to attempt a dignified carriage. Why, my lord,”—frankly crossing his
legs where he lay—“the king, who receives his ambassadors with a
majestic toss of the head, may have just recovered from the tooth-
ache. That thought should cant over the spine he bears so bravely.”
“Have a care, sir! there is a king within hearing.”
“Pardon, my lord; I was merely availing myself of the immunity bestowed
upon the company. Hereafter, permit a subject to rebel against your
sociable decrees. I will not be so frank any more.”
“Well put, Babbalanja; come nearer; here, cross your legs by mine; you
have risen a cubit in my regard. Vee-Vee, bring us that gourd of wine;
so, pass it round with the cups. Now, Yoomy, a song!”
And a song was sung.
And thus did we sail; pleasantly reclining on the mats stretched out
beneath the canopied howdah.
At length, we drew nigh to a rock, called Pella, or The Theft. A high,
green crag, toppling over its base, and flinging a cavernous shadow
upon the lagoon beneath, bubbling with the moisture that dropped.
Passing under this cliff was like finding yourself, as some sea-
hunters unexpectedly have, beneath the open, upper jaw of a whale;
which, descending, infallibly entombs you. But familiar with the rock,
our paddlers only threw back their heads, to catch the cool, pleasant
tricklings from the mosses above.
Wiping away several glittering beads from his beard, old Mohi turning
round where he sat, just outside the canopy, solemnly affirmed, that
the drinking of that water had cured many a man of ambition.
“How so, old man?” demanded Media.
“Because of its passing through the ashes of ten kings, of yore buried
in a sepulcher, hewn in the heart of the rock.”
“Mighty kings, and famous, doubtless,” said Babbalanja, “whose bones
were thought worthy of so noble and enduring as urn. Pray, Mohi, their
names and terrible deeds.”
“Alas! their sepulcher only remains.”
“And, no doubt, like many others, they made that sepul for themselves.
They sleep sound, my word for it, old man. But I very much question,
if, were the rock rent, any ashes would be found. Mohi, I deny that
those kings ever had any bones to bury.”
“Why, Babbalanja,” said Media, “since you intimate that they never had
ghosts to give up, you ignore them in toto; denying the very fact of
their being even defunct.”
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