"I have hopes of our Philosopher yet," said Mohi.
"Outrageous impostor! fool, dotard, oaf! Did he think to bejuggle me with his preposterous gibberish? And is this shallow phraseman the renowned Doxodox whom I have been taught so highly to reverence? Alas, alas-Odonphi there is none!"
"His fit again," sighed Yoomy.
CHAPTER LXVIII
King Media Dreams
That afternoon was melting down to eve; all but Media broad awake; yet all motionless, as the slumberer upon the purple mat. Sailing on, with open eyes, we slept the wakeful sleep of those, who to the body only give repose, while the spirit still toils on, threading her mountain passes.
King Media's slumbers were like the helmed sentry's in the saddle.
From them, he started like an antlered deer, bursting from out a copse. Some said he never slept; that deep within himself he but intensified the hour; or, leaving his crowned brow in marble quiet, unseen, departed to far-off councils of the gods. Howbeit, his lids never closed; in the noonday sun, those crystal eyes, like diamonds, sparkled with a fixed light.
As motionless we thus reclined, Media turned and muttered:-"Brother gods, and demi-gods, it is not well. These mortals should have less or more. Among my subjects is a man, whose genius scorns the common theories of things; but whose still mortal mind can not fathom the ocean at his feet. His soul's a hollow, wherein he raves."
"List, list," whispered Yoomy-"our lord is dreaming; and what a royal dream."
"A very royal and imperial dream," said Babbalanja-"he is arraigning me before high heaven;-ay, ay; in dreams, at least, he deems himself a demi-god."
"Hist," said Mohi-"he speaks again."
"Gods and demi-gods! With one gesture all abysses we may disclose; and before this Mardi's eyes, evoke the shrouded time to come. Were this well? Like lost children groping in the woods, they falter through their tangled paths; and at a thousand angles, baffled, start upon each other. And even when they make an onward move, 'tis but an endless vestibule, that leads to naught. In my own isle of Odo-Odo!
Odo! How rules my viceroy there? — Down, down, ye madding mobs! Ho, spearmen, charge! By the firmament, but my halberdiers fly!"
"His dream has changed," said Babbalanja. "He is in Odo, whither his anxieties impel him."
"Hist, hist," said Yoomy.
"I leap upon the soil! Render thy account, Almanni! Where's my throne?
Mohi, am I not a king? Do not thy chronicles record me? Yoomy, am I not the soul of some one glorious song? Babbalanja, speak.-Mohi! Yoomy!"
"What is it, my lord? thou dost but dream."
Staring wildly; then calmly gazing round, Media smiled. "Ha! how we royalties ramble in our dreams! I've told no secrets?"
"While he seemed to sleep, my lord spoke much," said Mohi.
"I knew it not, old man; nor would now; but that ye tell me."
"We dream not ourselves," said Babbalanja, "but the thing within us."
"Ay? — good-morrow Azzageddi! — But come; no more dreams: Vee-Vee! wine."
And straight through that livelong night, immortal Media plied the can.
CHAPTER LXIX
After A Long Interval, By Night They Are Becalmed
Now suns rose, and set; moons grew, and waned; till, at last, the star that erewhile heralded the dawn, presaged the eve; to us, sad token! — while deep within the deepest heart of Mardi's circle, we sailed from sea to sea; and isle to isle; and group to group;-vast empires explored, and inland valleys, to their utmost heads; and for every ray in heaven, beheld a king.
Needless to recount all that then befell; what tribes and caravans we saw; what vast horizons; boundless plains: and sierras, in their every intervale, a nation nestling.
Enough that still we roamed.
It was evening; and as the red sun, magnified, launched into the wave, once more, from a wild strand, we launched our three canoes.
Soon, from her clouds, hooded Night, like a nun from a convent, drew nigh. Rustled her train, yet no spangles were there. But high on her brow, still shone her pale crescent; haloed by bandelets-violet, red, and yellow. So looked the lone watcher through her rainbow-iris; so sad, the night without stars.
The winds were laid; the lagoon, still, as a prairie of an August noon.
"Let us dream out the calm," said Media. "One of ye paddlers, watch:
Ho companions! who's for Cathay?"
Sleep reigned throughout the canoes, sleeping upon the waters. But nearer and nearer, low-creeping along, came mists and vapors, a thousand; spotted with twinklings of Will-o-Wisps from neighboring shores. Dusky leopards, stealing on by crouches, those vapors seemed.
Hours silently passed. When startled by a cry, Taji sprang to his feet; against which something rattled; then, a quick splash! and a dark form bounded into the lagoon.
The dozing watcher had called aloud; and, about to stab, the assassin, dropping his stiletto, plunged.
Peering hard through those treacherous mists, two figures in a shallop, were espied; dragging another, dripping, from the brine.
"Foiled again, and foiled forever. No foe's corpse was I."
As we gazed, in the gloom quickly vanished the shallop; ere ours could be reversed to pursue.
Then, from the opposite mists, glided a second canoe; and beneath the Iris round the moon, shone now another:-Hautia's flowery flag!
Vain to wave the sirens off; so still they came.
One waved a plant of sickly silver-green.
"The Midnight Tremmella!" cried Yoomy; "the falling-star of flowers! — Still I come, when least foreseen; then flee."
The second waved a hemlock top, the spike just tapering its final point. The third, a convolvulus, half closed. "The end draws nigh, and all thy hopes are waning." Then they proffered grapes.
But once more waved off, silently they vanished.
Again the buried barb tore, at my soul; again Yillah was invoked, but Hautia made reply.
Slowly wore out the night. But when uprose the sun, fled clouds, and fled sadness.
CHAPTER LXX
They Land At Hooloomooloo
"Keep all three prows, for yonder rock." cried Media; "No sadness on this merry morn! And now for the Isle of Cripples, — even Hooloomooloo."
"The Isle of Cripples?"
"Ay; why not? Mohi, tell how they came to club." In substance, this was the narration.
Averse to the barbarous custom of destroying at birth all infants not symmetrically formed; but equally desirous of removing from their sight those unfortunate beings; the islanders of a neighboring group had long ago established an asylum for cripples; where they lived, subject to their own regulations; ruled by a king of their own election; in short, forming a distinct class of beings by themselves.
One only restriction was placed upon them: on no account must they quit the isle assigned them. And to the surrounding islanders, so unpleasant the sight of a distorted mortal, that a stranger landing at Hooloomooloo, was deemed a prodigy. Wherefore, respecting any knowledge of aught beyond them, the cripples were well nigh as isolated, as if Hooloomooloo was the only terra-firma extant.
Dwelling in a community of their own, these unfortunates, who otherwise had remained few in number, increased and multiplied greatly. Nor did successive generations improve in symmetry upon those preceding them.
Soon, we drew nigh to the isle.
Heaped up, and jagged with rocks; and, here and there, covered with dwarfed, twisted thickets, it seemed a fit place for its denizens.