noyance
their presence was to their enemy, Wilson, swore to abide near him and
never to leave him. Others, less obstinate or more impatient of a
change, resolved to decamp from the Calabooza. The first to depart were
Typee and Long Ghost. They had received intelligence of a new plantation
in Imeco, recently formed by foreigners, who wanted white labourers, and
were expected at Papeetee to seek them. With these men they took service
under the names of Peter and Paul, at wages of fifteen silver dollars a
month; and, after an affecting separation from their shipmates--whose
respectable character may be judged of by the fact, that one of them
picked Long Ghost's pocket in the very act of embracing him,--they
sailed away for Imeco, and arrived without accident in the valley of
Martair, where the plantation was situate. The chapters recording their
stay here are amongst the very best in the book, full of rich, quiet
fun. Typee gives a capital description of his employers. They were two
in number, both "whole-souled fellows; one was a tall robust Yankee,
born in the backwoods of Maine, sallow, and with a long face; the other,
a short little Cockney who had first clapped his eyes on the Monument."
Zeke the Yankee, had christened his comrade "Shorty;" and Shorty looked
up to him with respect, and yielded to him in most things. Both showed
themselves well disposed towards their new labourers, whom they at once
discovered to be superior to their station. And they soon found their
society so agreeable, that they were willing to keep them to do little
more than nominal work. As to making them efficient farm servants, they
quickly gave up that idea. As a sailor, Typee had little fancy for
husbandry; and the doctor found his long back terribly in his way when
requested to dig potatoes and root up stumps, under a sun which, as
Shorty said, "was hot enough to melt the nose hoff a brass monkey." Long
Ghost very soon gave in; the extraction of a single tree-root settled
him; he pleaded illness, and retired to his hammock, but was
considerably vexed when he heard the Yankee propose a bullock hunting
expedition, in which, as a sick man, he could not decently take part.
This was only the prologue to his annoyances. Musquitoes, unknown in
Tahiti, abound in Imeeo. They were brought there, according to a native
tradition, by one Nathan Coleman, of Nantucket, who, in revenge for some
fancied grievance, towed a rotten water-cask ashore, and left it