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- 10936
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:18.539Z
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- structure-extraction-lambda
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- 10865
- text
- CHAPTER C.
The Pursuer Himself Is Pursued
Next morning, when much to the chagrin of Borabolla we were preparing
to quit his isle, came tidings to the palace, of a wonderful event,
occurring in one of the “Motoos,” or little islets of the great reef;
which “Motoo” was included in the dominions of the king.
The men who brought these tidings were highly excited; and no sooner
did they make known what they knew, than all Mondoldo was in a tumult
of marveling.
Their story was this.
Going at day break to the Motoo to fish, they perceived a strange proa
beached on its seaward shore; and presently were hailed by voices; and
saw among the palm trees, three specter-like men, who were not of
Mardi.
The first amazement of the fishermen over, in reply to their eager
questions, the strangers related, that they were the survivors of a
company of men, natives of some unknown island to the northeast; whence
they had embarked for another country, distant three days’ sail to the
southward of theirs. But falling in with a terrible adventure, in which
their sire had been slain, they altered their course to pursue the
fugitive who murdered him; one and all vowing, never more to see home,
until their father’s fate was avenged. The murderer’s proa outsailing
theirs, soon ran out of sight; yet after him they blindly steered by
day and by night: steering by the blood- red star in Bootes. Soon, a
violent gale overtook them; driving them to and fro; leaving them they
knew not where. But still struggling against strange currents, at times
counteracting their sailing, they drifted on their way; nigh to
famishing for water; and no shore in sight. In long calms, in vain they
held up their dry gourds to heaven, and cried “send us a breeze, sweet
gods!” The calm still brooded; and ere it was gone, all but three
gasped; and dead from thirst, were plunged into the sea. The breeze
which followed the calm, soon brought them in sight of a low,
uninhabited isle; where tarrying many days, they laid in good store of
cocoanuts and water, and again embarked.
The next land they saw was Mardi; and they landed on the Motoo, still
intent on revenge.
This recital filled Taji with horror.
Who could these avengers be, but the sons of him I had slain. I had
thought them far hence, and myself forgotten; and now, like adders,
they started up in my path, as I hunted for Yillah.
But I dissembled my thoughts.
Without waiting to hear more, Borabolla, all curiosity to behold the
strangers, instantly dispatched to the Motoo one of his fleetest
canoes, with orders to return with the voyagers.
Ere long they came in sight; and perceiving that strange pros in tow of
the king’s, Samoa cried out: “Lo! Taji, the canoe that was going to
Tedaidee!”
Too true; the same double-keeled craft, now sorely broken, the fatal
dais in wild disarray: the canoe, the canoe of Aleema! And with it came
the spearmen three, who, when the Chamois was fleeing from their bow,
had poised their javelins. But so wan their aspect now, their faces
looked like skulls.
Then came over me the wild dream of Yillah; and, for a space, like a
madman, I raved. It seemed as if the mysterious damsel must still be
there; the rescue yet to be achieved. In my delirium I rushed upon the
skeletons, as they landed—“Hide not the maiden!” But interposing, Media
led me aside; when my transports abated.
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