72. CHAPTER LXXII.
A BOOK FROM THE CHRONICLES OF MOHI.
Many ages ago, there reigned in Juam a king called
Teei. This Teei's succession to the sovereignty was long
disputed by his brother Marjora; who at last rallying round
him an army, after many vicissitudes, defeated the unfortunate
monarch in a stout fight of clubs on the beach.
In those days, Willamilla during a certain period of the
year was a place set apart for royal games and diversions;
and was furnished with suitable accommodations for king
and court. From its peculiar position, moreover, it was
regarded as the last stronghold of the Juam monarchy: in
remote times having twice withstood the most desperate
assaults from without. And when Roonoonoo, a famous
upstart, sought to subdue all the isles in this part of the
Archipelago, it was to Willamilla that the banded kings
had repaired to take counsel together; and while there
conferring, were surprised at the sudden onslaught of Roonoonoo
in person. But in the end, the rebel was captured,
he and all his army, and impaled on the tops of the hills.
Now, defeated and fleeing for his life, Teei with his surviving
followers was driven across the plain toward the
mountains. But to cut him off from all escape to inland
Willamilla, Marjora dispatched a fleet band of warriors to
occupy the entrance of the defile. Nevertheless, Teei the
pursued ran faster than his pursuers; first gained the spot;
and with his chiefs, fled swiftly down the gorge, closely
hunted by Marjora's men. But arriving at the further
end, they in vain sought to defend it. And after much
desperate fighting, the main body of the foe coming up,
with great slaughter the fugitives were driven into the glen.
They ran to the opposite wall of cliff; where turning,
they fought at bay, blood for blood, and life for life, till at
last, overwhelmed by numbers, they were all put to the
point of the spear.
With fratricidal hate, singled out by the ferocious Marjora,
Teei fell by that brother's hand. When stripping
from the body the regal girdle, the victor wound it round
his own loins; thus proclaiming himself king over Juam.
Long torn by this intestine war, the island acquiesced in
the new sovereignty. But at length a sacred oracle declared,
that since the conqueror had slain his brother in
deep Willamilla, so that Teei never more issued from that
refuge of death; therefore, the same fate should be Marjora's;
for never, thenceforth, from that glen, should he go
forth; neither Marjora; nor any son of his girdled loins;
nor his son's sons; nor the uttermost scion of his race.
But except this denunciation, naught was denounced
against the usurper; who, mindful of the tenure by which
he reigned, ruled over the island for many moons; at his
death bequeathing the girdle to his son.
In those days, the wildest superstitions concerning the
interference of the gods in things temporal, prevailed to a
much greater extent than at present. Hence Marjora himself,
called sometimes in the traditions of the island, The-Heart-of-Black-Coral,
even unscrupulous Marjora had quailed
before the oracle. “He bowed his head,” say the legends.
Nor was it then questioned, by his most devoted adherents,
that had he dared to act counter to that edict, he had dropped
dead, the very instant he went under the shadow of the
defile. This persuasion also guided the conduct of the son
of Marjora, and that of his grandson.
But there at last came to pass a change in the popular
fancies concerning this ancient anathema. The penalty
denounced against the posterity of the usurper should they
issue from the glen, came to be regarded as only applicable
to an invested monarch, not to his relatives, or heirs.
A most favorable construction of the ban; for all those
related to the king, freely passed in and out of Willamilla.
From the time of the usurpation, there had always been
observed a certain ceremony upon investing the heir to the
sovereignty with the girdle of Teei. Upon these occasions,
the chief priests of the island were present, acting an important
part. For the space of as many days, as there had
reigned kings of Marjora's dynasty, the inner mouth of the
defile remained sealed; the new monarch placing the last
stone in the gap. This symbolized his relinquishment forever
of all purpose of passing out of the glen. And without
this observance, was no king girdled in Juam.
It was likewise an invariable custom, for the heir to receive
the regal investiture immediately upon the decease of
his sire. No delay was permitted. And instantly upon
being girdled, he proceeded to take part in the ceremony of
closing the cave; his predecessor yet remaining uninterred
on the purple mat where he died.
In the history of the island, three instances were recorded;
wherein, upon the vacation of the sovereignty, the immediate
heir had voluntarily renounced all claim to the
succession, rather than surrender the privilege of roving, to
which he had been entitled, as a prince of the blood.
Said Rani, one of these young princes, in reply to the remonstrances
of his friends, “What! shall I be a king, only
to be a slave? Teei's girdle would clasp my waist less
tightly, than my soul would be banded by the mountains of
Willamilla. A subject, I am free. No slave in Juam but
its king; for all the tassels round his loins.”
To guard against a similar resolution in the mind of his
only son, the wise sire of Donjalolo, ardently desirous of
perpetuating his dignities in a child so well beloved, had
from his earliest infancy, restrained the boy from passing out
of the glen, to contract in the free air of the Archipelago,
tastes and predilections fatal to the inheritance of the
girdle.
But as he grew in years, so impatient became young
Donjalolo of the king his father's watchfulness over him,
though hitherto a most dutiful son, that at last he was
prevailed upon by his youthful companions to appoint a day,
on which to go abroad, and visit Mardi. Hearing this determination,
the old king sought to vanquish it. But in
vain. And early on the morning of the day, that Donjalolo
was to set out, he swallowed poison, and died; in order to
force his son into the instant assumption of the honors thus
suddenly inherited.
The event, but not its dreadful circumstances, was communicated
to the prince; as with a gay party of young
chiefs, he was about to enter the mouth of the defile.
“My sire dead!” cried Donjalolo. “So sudden, it seems
a bolt from Heaven.” And bursting into exclamations of
grief, he wept upon the bosom of Talara his friend.
But starting from his side:—“My fate converges to a
point. If I but cross that shadow, my kingdom is lost.
One lifting of my foot, and the girdle goes to my proud
uncle Darfi, who would so joy to be my master. Haughty
Darfi! Oh Oro! would that I had ere this passed thee,
fatal cavern; and seen for myself, what outer Mardi is,
Say ye true, comrades, that Willamilla is less lovely than
the valleys without? that there is bright light in the eyes
of the maidens of Mina? and wisdom in the hearts of the
old priests of Maramma; that it is pleasant to tread the
green earth where you will; and breathe the free ocean
air? Would, oh would, that I were but the least of yonder
sun-clouds, that look down alike on Willamilla and all places
besides, that I might determine aright. Yet why do I pause?
did not Rani, and Atama, and Mardonna, my ancestors,
each see for himself, free Mardi; and did they not fly the
proffered girdle; choosing rather to be free to come and go,
than bury themselves forever in this fatal glen? Oh Mardi!
Mardi! art thou then so fair to see? Is liberty a
thing so glorious? Yet can I be no king, and behold thee!
Too late, too late, to view thy charms and then return. My
sire! my sire! thou hast wrung my heart with this agony
of doubt. Tell me, comrades,—for ye have seen it,—is
Mardi sweeter to behold, than it is royal to reign over Juam?
Silent, are ye? Knowing what ye do, were ye me, would
ye be kings? Tell me, Talara.—No king: no king:—
that were to obey, and not command. And none hath
Donjalolo ere obeyed but the king his father. A king,
and my voice may be heard in farthest Mardi, though I
abide in narrow Willamilla. My sire! my sire! Ye flying
clouds, what look ye down upon? Tell me, what ye
see abroad? Methinks sweet spices breathe from out the
cave.”
“Hail, Donjalolo, King of Juam,” now sounded with
acclamations from the groves.
Starting, the young prince beheld a multitude approaching:
warriors with spears, and maidens with flowers; and
Kubla, a priest, lifting on high the tasseled girdle of Teei,
and waving it toward him.
The young chiefs fell back. Kubla, advancing, came close
to the prince, and unclasping the badge of royalty, exclaimed,
“Donjalolo, this instant it is king or subject with
thee: wilt thou be girdled monarch?”
Gazing one moment up the dark defile, then staring vacantly,
Donjalolo turned and met the eager gaze of Darfi.
Stripping off his mantle, the next instant he was a king.
Loud shouted the multitude, and exulted; but after mutely
assisting at the closing of the cavern, the new-girdled
monarch retired sadly to his dwelling, and was not seen
again for many days.
