Mardi: and A Voyage Thither, Vol. II

by Herman Melville

  The chronicles of Maramma were full of horrors.

  In the wild heart of the island, was said still to lurk the remnant ofa band of warriors, who, in the days of the sire of the presentpontiff, had risen in arms to dethrone him, headed by Foni, an upstartprophet, a personage distinguished for the uncommon beauty of hisperson. With terrible carnage, these warriors had been defeated; andthe survivors, fleeing into the interior, for thirty days were pursuedby the victors. But though many were overtaken and speared, a numbersurvived; who, at last, wandering forlorn and in despair, likedemoniacs, ran wild in the woods. And the islanders, who at timespenetrated into the wilderness, for the purpose of procuring rareherbs, often scared from their path some specter, glaring through thefoliage. Thrice had these demoniacs been discovered prowling about theinhabited portions of the isle; and at day-break, an attendant of theholy Morai once came upon a frightful figure, doubled with age,helping itself to the offerings in the image of Doleema. The demoniacwas slain; and from his ineffaceable tatooing, it was proved that thiswas no other than Foni, the false prophet; the splendid form he hadcarried into the rebel fight, now squalid with age and misery.

  CHAPTER VIIThey Visit The Lake Of Yammo

  From the Morai, we bent our steps toward an unoccupied arbor; andhere, refreshing ourselves with the viands presented by Borabolla, wepassed the night. And next morning proceeded to voyage round to theopposite quarter of the island; where, in the sacred lake of Yammo,stood the famous temple of Oro, also the great gallery of the inferiordeities.

  The lake was but a portion of the smooth lagoon, made separate by anarm of wooded reef, extending from the high western shore of theisland, and curving round toward a promontory, leaving a narrowchannel to the sea, almost invisible, however, from the land-lockedinterior.

  In this lake were many islets, all green with groves. Its main-shorewas a steep acclivity, with jutting points, each crowned with mossyold altars of stone, or ruinous temples, darkly reflected in thegreen, glassy water; while, from its long line of stately trees, thelow reef-side of the lake looked one verdant bluff.

  Gliding in upon Yammo, its many islets greeted us like a little Mardi;but ever and anon we started at long lines of phantoms in the water,reflections of the long line of images on the shore.

  Toward the islet of Dolzono we first directed our way; and there webeheld the great gallery of the gods; a mighty temple, resting on onehundred tall pillars of palm, each based, below the surface, on theburied body of a man; its nave one vista of idols; names carved ontheir foreheads: Ogre, Tripoo, Indrimarvoki, Parzillo, Vivivi,Jojijojorora, Jorkraki, and innumerable others.

  Crowds of attendants were new-grouping the images.

  "My lord, you behold one of their principal occupations," said Mohi.

  Said Media: "I have heard much of the famed image of Mujo, the NursingMother;--can you point it out, Braid-Beard?"

  "My lord, when last here, I saw Mujo at the head of this file; butthey must have removed it; I see it not now."

  "Do these attendants, then," said Babbalanja, "so continually new-marshal the idols, that visiting the gallery to-day, you are at a lossto-morrow?"

  "Even so," said Braid-Beard. "But behold, my lord, this image is Mujo."

  We stood before an obelisk-idol, so towering, that gazing at it, wewere fain to throw back our heads. According to Mohi, winding stairsled up through its legs; its abdomen a cellar, thick-stored withgourds of old wine; its head, a hollow dome; in rude alto-relievo, itsscores of hillock-breasts were carved over with legions of babydeities, frog-like sprawling; while, within, were secreted wholelitters of infant idols, there placed, to imbibe divinity from theknots of the wood.

  As we stood, a strange subterranean sound was heard, mingled with agurgling as of wine being poured. Looking up, we beheld, througharrow-slits and port-holes, three masks, cross-legged seated in theabdomen, and holding stout wassail. But instantly upon descrying us,they vanished deeper into the interior; and presently was heard asepulchral chant, and many groans and grievous tribulations.

  Passing on, we came to an image, with a long anaconda-like posteriordevelopment, wound round and round its own neck.

  "This must be Oloo, the god of Suicides," said Babbalanja.

  "Yes," said Mohi, "you perceive, my lord, how he lays violent tailupon himself."

  At length, the attendants having, in due order, new-deposed the longlines of sphinxes and griffins, and many limbed images, a band ofthem, in long flowing robes, began their morning chant.

  "Awake Rarni! awake Foloona! Awake unnumbered deities!"

  With many similar invocations, to which the images made not theslightest rejoinder. Not discouraged, however, the attendants nowseparately proceeded to offer up petitions on behalf of varioustribes, retaining them for that purpose.

  One prayed for abundance of rain, that the yams of Valapee might notwilt in the ground; another for dry sunshine, as most favorable forthe present state of the Bread-fruit crop in Mondoldo.

  Hearing all this, Babbalanja thus spoke:--"Doubtless, my lord Media,besides these petitions we hear, there are ten thousand contradictoryprayers ascending to these idols. But methinks the gods will not jarthe eternal progression of things, by any hints from below; even wereit possible to satisfy conflicting desires."

  Said Yoomy, "But I would pray, nevertheless, Babbalanja; for prayerdraws us near to our own souls, and purifies our thoughts. Nor will Igrant that our supplications are altogether in vain."

  Still wandering among the images, Mohi had much to say, concerningtheir respective claims to the reverence of the devout.

  For though, in one way or other, all Mardians bowed to the supremacyof Oro, they were not so unanimous concerning the inferior deities;those supposed to be intermediately concerned in sublunary things.Some nations sacrificed to one god; some to another; each maintaining,that their own god was the most potential.

  Observing that all the images were more or less defaced, Babbalanjasought the reason.

  To which, Braid-Beard made answer, that they had been thus defaced byhostile devotees; who quarreling in the great gallery of the gods, andgetting beside themselves with rage, often sought to pull down, anddemolish each other's favorite idols.

  "But behold," cried Babbalanja, "there seems not a single imageunmutilated. How is this, old man?"

  "It is thus. While one faction defaces the images of its adversaries,its own images are in like manner assailed; whence it comes that noidol escapes."

  "No more, no more, Braid-Beard," said Media. "Let us depart, and visitthe islet, where the god of all these gods is enshrined."

  CHAPTER VIIIThey Meet The Pilgrims At The Temple Of Oro

  Deep, deep, in deep groves, we found the great temple of Oro,Spreader-of-the-Sky, and deity supreme.

  While here we silently stood eyeing this Mardi-renowned image, thereentered the fane a great multitude of its attendants, holding pearl-shells on their heads, filled with a burning incense. And rangingthemselves in a crowd round Oro, they began a long-rolling chant, asea of sounds; and the thick smoke of their incense went up to theroof.

  And now approached Pani and the pilgrims; followed, at a distance, bythe willful boy.

  "Behold great Oro," said the guide.

  "We see naught but a cloud," said the chief Divino.

  "My ears are stunned by the chanting," said the blind pilgrim.

  "Receive more gifts, oh guide!" cried Fauna the matron. "Oh Oro!invisible Oro! I kneel," slow murmured the sad-eyed maid.

  But now, a current of air swept aside the eddying incense; and thewillful boy, all eagerness to behold the image, went hither andthither; but the gathering of attendants was great; and at last heexclaimed, "Oh Oro! I can not see thee, for the crowd that standsbetween thee and me."

  "Who is this babbler?" cried they with the censers, one and allturning upon the pilgrims; "let him speak no more; but bow down, andgrind the dust where he stands; and declare himself the vilestcreature that crawls. So Oro and Alma comm
and."

  "I feel nothing in me so utterly vile," said the boy, "and I cringe tonone. But I would as lief _adore_ your image, as that in my heart, forboth mean the same; but more, how can I? I love great Oro, though Icomprehend him not. I marvel at his works, and feel as nothing in hissight; but because he is thus omnipotent, and I a mortal, it followsnot that I am vile. Nor so doth he regard me. We do ourselves degradeourselves, not Oro us. Hath not Oro made me? And therefore am I notworthy to stand erect before him? Oro is almighty, but no despot. Iwonder; I hope; I love; I weep; I have in me a feeling nigh to fear,that is not fear; but wholly vile I am not; nor can we love andcringe. But Oro knows my heart, which I can not speak."

  "Impious boy," cried they with the censers, "we will offer thee up,before the very image thou contemnest. In the name of Alma, seize him."

  And they bore him away unresisting.

  "Thus perish the ungodly," said Pani to the shuddering pilgrims.

  And they quitted the temple, to journey toward the Peak of Ofo.

  "My soul bursts!" cried Yoomy. "My lord, my lord, let us save the boy."

  "Speak not," said Media. "His fate is fixed. Let Mardi stand."

  "Then let us away from hence, my lord; and join the pilgrims; for, inthese inland vales, the lost one may be found, perhaps at the verybase of Ofo."

  "Not there; not there;" cried Babbalanja, "Yillah may have touchedthese shores; but long since she must have fled."

  CHAPTER IXThey Discourse Of Alma

  Sailing to and fro in the lake, to view its scenery, much discoursetook place concerning the things we had seen; and far removed from thecenser-bearers, the sad fate that awaited the boy was now the themeof all.

  A good deal was then said of Alma, to whom the guide, the pilgrims,and the censer-bearers had frequently alluded, as to some paramountauthority.

  Called upon to reveal what his chronicles said on this theme, Braid-Beard complied; at great length narrating, what now follows condensed.

  Alma, it seems, was an illustrious prophet, and teacher divine; who,ages ago, at long intervals, and in various islands, had appeared tothe Mardians under the different titles of Brami, Manko, and Alma.Many thousands of moons had elasped since his last and most memorableavatar, as Alma on the isle of Maramma. Each of his advents had takenplace in a comparatively dark and benighted age. Hence, it wasdevoutly believed, that he came to redeem the Mardians from theirheathenish thrall; to instruct them in the ways of truth, virtue, andhappiness; to allure them to good by promises of beatitude hereafter;and to restrain them from evil by denunciations of woe. Separated fromthe impurities and corruptions, which in a long series of centurieshad become attached to every thing originally uttered by the prophet,the maxims, which as Brami he had taught, seemed similar to thoseinculcated by Manko. But as Alma, adapting his lessons to the improvedcondition of humanity, the divine prophet had more completely unfoldedhis scheme; as Alma, he had made his last revelation.

  This narration concluded, Babbalanja mildly observed, "Mohi: withoutseeking to accuse you of uttering falsehoods; since what you relaterests not upon testimony of your own; permit me, to question thefidelity of your account of Alma. The prophet came to dissipateerrors, you say; but superadded to many that have survived the past,ten thousand others have originated in various constructions of theprinciples of Alma himself. The prophet came to do away all gods butone; but since the days of Alma, the idols of Maramma have more thanquadrupled. The prophet came to make us Mardians more virtuous andhappy; but along with all previous good, the same wars, crimes, andmiseries, which existed in Alma's day, under various modifications areyet extant. Nay: take from your chronicles, Mohi, the history of thosehorrors, one way or other, resulting from the doings of Alma's nominalfollowers, and your chronicles would not so frequently make mention ofblood. The prophet came to guarantee our eternal felicity; butaccording to what is held in Maramma, that felicity rests on so hard aproviso, that to a thinking mind, but very few of our sinful race maysecure it. For one, then, I wholly reject your Alma; not so much,because of all that is hard to be understood in his histories; asbecause of obvious and undeniable things all round us; which, to me,seem at war with an unreserved faith in his doctrines as promulgatedhere in Maramma. Besides; every thing in this isle strengthens myincredulity; I never was so thorough a disbeliever as now."

  "Let the winds be laid," cried Mohi, "while your rash confession isbeing made in this sacred lake."

  Said Media, "Philosopher; remember the boy, and they that seized him."

  "Ah! I do indeed remember him. Poor youth! in his agony, how my heartyearned toward his. But that very prudence which you deny me, my lord,prevented me from saying aught in his behalf. Have you not observed,that until now, when we are completely by ourselves, I have refrainedfrom freely discoursing of what we have seen in this island? Trust me,my lord, there is no man, that bears more in mind the necessity ofbeing either a believer or a hypocrite in Maramma, and the imminentperil of being honest here, than I, Babbalanja. And have I not reasonto be wary, when in my boyhood, my own sire was burnt for histemerity; and in this very isle? Just Oro! it was done in the name ofAlma,--what wonder then, that, at times, I almost hate that sound. Andfrom those flames, they devoutly swore he went to others,--horriblefable!"

  Said Mohi: "Do you deny, then, the everlasting torments?"

  "'Tis not worth a denial. Nor by formally denying it, will I run therisk of shaking the faith of, thousands, who in that pious belief findinfinite consolation for all they suffer in Mardi."

  "How?" said Media; "are there those who soothe themselves with thethought of everlasting flames?"

  "One would think so, my lord, since they defend that dogma moreresolutely than any other. Sooner will they yield you the isles ofParadise, than it. And in truth, as liege followers of Alma, theywould seem but right in clinging to it as they do; for, according toall one hears in Maramma, the great end of the prophet's mission seemsto have been the revealing to us Mardians the existence of horrors,most hard to escape. But better we were all annihilated, than that oneman should be damned."

  Rejoined Media: "But think you not, that possibly, Alma may have beenmisconceived? Are you certain that doctrine is his?"

  "I know nothing more than that such is the belief in this land. And inthese matters, I know not where else to go for information. But, mylord, had I been living in those days when certain men are said tohave been actually possessed by spirits from hell, I had not let slipthe opportunity--as our forefathers did--to cross-question themconcerning the place they came from."

  "Well, well," said Media, "your Alma's faith concerns not me: I am aking, and a demi-god; and leave vulgar torments to the commonality."

  "But it concerns me," muttered Mohi; "yet I know not what to think."

  "For me," said Yoomy, "I reject it. Could I, I would not believe it.It is at variance with the dictates of my heart instinctively my heartturns from it, as a thirsty man from gall."

  "Hush; say no more," said Mohi; "again we approach the shore."

  CHAPTER XMohi Tells Of One Ravoo, And They Land To Visit Revaneva, AFlourishing Artisan

  Having seen all worth viewing in Yammo, we departed, to complete thecircumnavigation of the island, by returning to Uma without reversingour prows. As we glided along, we passed many objects of interest,concerning which, Mohi, as usual, was very diffuse.

  Among other things pointed out, were certain little altars, like mile-stones, planted here and there upon bright bluffs, running out intothe lagoon. Dedicated respectively to the guardian spirits of Maramma,these altars formed a chain of spiritual defenses; and here werepresumed to stand post the most vigilant of warders; dread Hivohitee,all by himself, garrisoning the impregnable interior.

  But these sentries were only subalterns, subject to the beck of thePontiff; who frequently sent word to them, concerning the duties oftheir watch. His mandates were intrusted to one Ravoo, the hereditarypontifical messenger; a long-limbed varlet, so swift of foot, that hewas said to travel like
a javelin. "Art thou Ravoo, that thou sopliest thy legs?" say these islanders, to one encountered in a hurry.

  Hivohitee's postman held no oral communication with the sentries.Dispatched round the island with divers bits of tappa,hieroglyphically stamped, he merely deposited one upon each altar;superadding a stone, to keep the missive in its place; and so went hisrounds.

  Now, his route lay over hill and over dale, and over many a coralrock; and to preserve his feet from bruises, he was fain to wear asort of buskin, or boot, fabricated of a durable tappa, made from thethickest and toughest of fibers. As he never wore his buskins exceptwhen he carried the mail, Ravoo sorely fretted with his Hessians;though it would have been highly imprudent to travel without them. Tomake the thing more endurable, therefore, and, at intervals, to coolhis heated pedals, he established a series of stopping-places, orstages; at each of which a fresh pair of buskins, hanging from a tree,were taken down and vaulted into by the ingenious traveler. Thoserelays of boots were exceedingly convenient; next, indeed, to beinglifted upon a fresh pair of legs.