reader's patience, as I am about to string together, without any attempt
at order, a few odds and ends of things not hitherto mentioned, but which
are either curious in themselves, or peculiar to the Typees.

There was one singular custom, observed in old Marheyo's domestic
establishment, which often excited my surprise. Every night, before
retiring, the inmates of the house gathered together on the mats, and
squatting upon their haunches, after the universal practice of these
islanders, would commence a low, dismal, and monotonous chant,
accompanying the voice with the instrumental melody produced by two small
half-rotten sticks tapped slowly together, a pair of which were held in
the hands of each person present. Thus would they employ themselves for an
hour or two, sometimes longer. Lying in the gloom which wrapped the
farther end of the house, I could not avoid looking at them, although the
spectacle suggested nothing but unpleasant reflections. The flickering
rays of the "armor" nut just served to reveal their savage lineaments,
without dispelling the darkness that hovered about them.

Sometimes when, after falling into a kind of doze, and awaking suddenly in
the midst of these doleful chantings, my eye would fall upon the
wild-looking group engaged in their strange occupation, with their naked
tattooed limbs, and shaven heads disposed in a circle, I was almost
tempted to believe that I gazed upon a set of evil beings in the act of
working a frightful incantation.

What was the meaning or purpose of this custom, whether it was practised
merely as a diversion, or whether it was a religious exercise, a sort of
family prayers, I never could discover.

The sounds produced by the natives on these occasions were of a most
singular description; and had I not actually been present, I never would
have believed that such curious noises could have been produced by human
beings.

To savages, generally, is imputed a guttural articulation. This, however,
is not always the case, especially among the inhabitants of the Polynesian
Archipelago. The labial melody with which the Typee girls carry on an
ordinary conversation, giving a musical prolongation to the final syllable
of every sentence, and chirping out some of the words with a liquid,
bird-like accent, was singularly pleasing.

The men, however, are not quite so harmonious in their utterance; and when
excited upon any subject, would work themselves up into a sort of wo