90. CHAPTER XC.
Approached from the northward, Ohonoo, midway cloven
down to the sea, one half a level plain; the other, three
mountain terraces—Ohonoo looks like the first steps of a
gigantic way to the sun. And such, if Braid-Beard spoke
truth, it had formerly been.
“Ere Mardi was made,” said that true old chronicler,
“Vivo, one of the genii, built a ladder of mountains whereby
to go up and go down. And of this ladder, the island of
Ohonoo was the base. But wandering here and there,
incognito in a vapor, so much wickedness did Vivo spy out,
that in high dudgeon he hurried up his ladder, knocking the
mountains from under him as he went. These here and
there fell into the lagoon, forming many isles, now green
and luxuriant; which, with those sprouting from seeds
dropped by a bird from the moon, comprise all the groups
in the reef.”
Surely, oh, surely, if I live till Mardi be forgotten by
Mardi, I shall not forget the sight that greeted us, as we
drew nigh the shores of this same island of Ohonoo; for was
not all Ohonoo bathing in the surf of the sea?
But let the picture be painted.
Where eastward the ocean rolls surging against the outer
reef of Mardi, there, facing a flood-gate in the barrier, stands
cloven Ohonoo; her plains sloping outward to the sea, her
mountains a bulwark behind. As at Juam, where the wild
billows from seaward roll in upon its cliffs; much more at
Ohonoo, in billowy battalions charge they hotly into the
lagoon, and fall on the isle like an army from the deep.
But charge they never so boldly, and charge they forever,
old Ohonoo gallantly throws them back till all before her is
one scud and rack. So charged the bright billows of cuirassiers
at Waterloo: so hurled them off the long line of living
walls, whose base was as the sea-beach, wreck-strown, in a
gale.
Without the break in the reef, wide banks of coral shelve
off, creating the bar, where the waves muster for the onset,
thundering in water-bolts, that shake the whole reef, till its
very spray trembles. And then is it, that the swimmers
of Ohonoo most delight to gambol in the surf.
For this sport, a surf-board is indispensable: some five
feet in length; the width of a man's body; convex on both
sides; highly polished; and rounded at the ends. It is
held in high estimation; invariably oiled after use; and
hung up conspicuously in the dwelling of the owner.
Ranged on the beach, the bathers, by hundreds dash in;
and diving under the swells, make straight for the outer sea,
pausing not till the comparatively smooth expanse beyond
has been gained. Here, throwing themselves upon their
boards; tranquilly they wait for a billow that suits. Snatching
them up, it hurries them landward, volume and speed
both increasing, till it races along a watery wall, like the
smooth, awful verge of Niagara. Hanging over this scroll,
looking down from it as from a precipice, the bathers halloo;
every limb in motion to preserve their place on the very
crest of the wave. Should they fall behind, the squadrons
that follow would whelm them; dismounted, and thrown
forward, as certainly would they be run over by the steed
they ride. 'Tis like charging at the head of cavalry: you
must on.
An expert swimmer shifts his position on his plank; now
half striding it; and anon, like a rider in the ring, poising
himself upright in the scud, coming on like a man in the
air.
At last all is lost in scud and vapor, as the overgrown
billow bursts like a bomb. Adroitly emerging, the swimmers
thread their way out; and like seals at the Orkneys,
stand dripping upon the shore.
Landing in smooth water, some distance from the scene,
we strolled forward; and meeting a group resting, inquired
for Uhia, their king. He was pointed out in the foam.
But presently drawing nigh, he embraced Media, bidding all
welcome.
The bathing over, and evening at hand, Uhia and his
subjects repaired to their canoes; and we to ours.
Landing at another quarter of the island, we journeyed
up a valley called Monlova, and were soon housed in a very
pleasant retreat of our host.
Soon supper was spread. But though the viands were
rare, and the red wine went round and round like a foaming
bay horse in the ring; yet we marked, that despite the
stimulus of his day's good sport, and the stimulus of his
brave good cheer, Uhia our host was moody and still.
Said Babbalanja “My lord, he fills wine cups for others
to quaff.”
“But whispered King Media, “Though Uhia be sad, be
we merry, merry men.”
And merry some were, and merrily went to their mats.
