er,
and close under the shadow of the Happar mountain, where a path was seen,
winding out of sight through a gorge.

No sign of a boat, however, was beheld; nothing but a tumultuous crowd of
men and women, and some one in their midst, earnestly talking to them. As
my comrade advanced, this person came forward, and proved to be no
stranger. He was an old grizzled sailor, whom Toby and myself had
frequently seen in Nukuheva, where he lived an easy, devil-may-care life,
in the household of Mowanna the king, going by the name of "Jimmy." In
fact, he was the royal favourite, and had a good deal to say in his
master's councils. He wore a Manilla hat, and a sort of tappa morning
gown, sufficiently loose and negligent to show the verse of a song
tattooed upon his chest, and a variety of spirited cuts by native artists
in other parts of his body. He sported a fishing-rod in his hand, and
carried a sooty old pipe slung about his neck.

This old rover having retired from active life, had resided in Nukuheva
some time--he could speak the language, and for that reason was frequently
employed by the French as an interpreter. He was an arrant old gossip,
too; for ever coming off in his canoe to the ships in the bay, and
regaling their crews with choice little morsels of court scandal--such, for
instance, as a shameful intrigue of his majesty with a Happar damsel, a
public dancer at the feasts--and otherwise relating some incredible tales
about the Marquesas generally. I remember, in particular, his telling the
_Dolly's_ crew what proved to be literally a cock-and-bull story, about
two natural prodigies, which he said were then on the island. One was an
old monster of a hermit, having a marvellous reputation for sanctity, and
reputed a famous sorcerer, who lived away off in a den among the
mountains, where he hid from the world a great pair of horns that grew out
of his temples. Notwithstanding his reputation for piety, his horrid old
fellow was the terror of all the island round, being reported to come out
from his retreat, and go a man-hunting every dark night. Some anonymous
Paul Pry, too, coming down the mountain, once got a peep at his den, and
found it full of bones. In short, he was a most unheard-of monster.

The other prodigy Jimmy told us about, was the younger son of a chief,
who, although but just turned of ten, had entered upon holy orders,
because his superstitious countrymen thought him especially intended for
the prie