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Updated: May 3, 2025
Said Media, "Well done, Taji, you have killed a queen." "Yet no Queen Hautia have these eyes beheld." Said Babbalanja, "The thrice waved oleanders, Yoomy; what meant they?" "Beware beware beware." "Then that, at least, seems kindly meant," said Babbalanja; "Taji, beware of Hautia."
Like the fish of the bright and twittering fin, Bright fish! diving deep as high soars the lark, So, far, far, far, doth the maiden swim, Wild song, wild light, in still ocean's dark. "What maiden, minstrel?" cried Media. "None of these," answered Yoomy, pointing out a shallop gliding near. "The damsels three: Taji, they pursue you yet." That still canoe drew nigh, the Iris in its prow.
From seaward now came a breeze so blithesome and fresh, that it made us impatient of Babbalanja's philosophy, and Mohi's incredible legends. One and all, we called upon the minstrel Yoomy to give us something in unison with the spirited waves wide-foaming around us. "If my lord will permit, we will give Taji the Paddle-Chant of the warriors of King Bello." "By all means," said Media.
And when Borabolla urged him to empty a gourd or two, by way of making room in him for the incidental repast about to be served, Taji civilly declined; not wishing to cumber the floor, before the cloth was laid. Jarl, however, yielding to importunity, and unmindful of the unities of time and place, went freely about, from gourd to gourd, concocting in him a punch.
But apart from these extravagant expressions of good feeling, Borabolla was the prince of good fellows. His great tun of a person was indispensable to the housing of his bullock-heart; under which, any lean wight would have sunk. But alas! unlike Media and Taji, Borabolla, though a crowned king, was accounted no demi-god; his obesity excluding him from that honor.
At early dawn, about embarking for a distant land, there came to us certain messengers of Donjalolo, saying that their lord the king, repenting of so soon parting company with Media and Taji, besought them to return with all haste; for that very morning, in Willamilla, a regal banquet was preparing; to which many neighboring kings had been invited, most of whom had already arrived.
He murmured deep concern for my loss, the sincerest sympathy; and pressing my hand more than once, said lowly, "Your pursuit is mine, noble Taji. Where'er you search, I follow." So, too, Yoomy addressed me; but with still more feeling. And something like this, also, Braid-Beard repeated.
Media cried, "For shame, oh Taji; thou, a god?" and placed a spear in my nerveless hand. And Jarl loud called upon me to awake. Samoa marveled. Still sped the days. And at length, my memory was restored. The thoughts of things broke over me like returning billows on a beach long bared. A rush, a foam of recollections! Sweet Yillah gone, and I bereaved. Another interval, and that mood was past.
Taji seemed oozing from my fingers' ends. But courage! and erecting my crest, I strove to look every inch the character I had determined to assume. For a time, it was almost impossible to tell with what emotions precisely the chiefs were regarding me. They said not a word.
Then, anxious, to learn the history of Yillah, all present commanded them to divulge it; and breathlessly I heard what follows. "Of Yillah, we know only this: that many moons ago, a mighty canoe, full of beings, white, like this murderer Taji, touched at our island of Amma. Received with wonder, they were worshiped as gods; were feasted all over the land.
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