nd 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.

Now, instantly, the strangers knew who I was; and, brandishing their
javelins, they rushed upon me, as I had on them, with a yell. But
deeming us all mad, the crowd held us apart; when, writhing in the
arms that restrained them, the pale specters foamed out their curses
again and again: "Oh murderer! white curses upon thee! Bleached be
thy soul with our hate! Living, our brethren cursed thee; and dying,
dry-lipped, they cursed thee again. They died not through famishing
for water, but for revenge upon thee! Thy blood, their