- end_line
- 9767
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:18.539Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 9738
- text
- At last all is lost in scud and vapor, as the overgrown billow bursts
like a bomb. Adroitly emerging, the swimmers thread their way out; and
like seals at the Orkneys, stand dripping upon the shore.
Landing in smooth water, some distance from the scene, we strolled
forward; and meeting a group resting, inquired for Uhia, their king. He
was pointed out in the foam. But presently drawing nigh, he embraced
Media, bidding all welcome.
The bathing over, and evening at hand, Uhia and his subjects repaired
to their canoes; and we to ours.
Landing at another quarter of the island, we journeyed up a valley
called Monlova, and were soon housed in a very pleasant retreat of our
host.
Soon supper was spread. But though the viands were rare, and the red
wine went round and round like a foaming bay horse in the ring; yet we
marked, that despite the stimulus of his day’s good sport, and the
stimulus of his brave good cheer, Uhia our host was moody and still.
Said Babbalanja “My lord, he fills wine cups for others to quaff.”
But whispered King Media, “Though Uhia be sad, be we merry, merry men.”
And merry some were, and merrily went to their mats.
- title
- Chunk 2