Volume II Part 47 (1/2)
”Left he nothing whatever to his kindred?”
”Not a stule”
”Yes: Bardianna never sought to improve upon nature; a bachelor he was born, and a bachelor he died”
”According to the best accounts, how did he depart, Babbalanja?” asked Mohi
”With a firm lip, and his hand on his heart, old man”
”His last words?”
”Calmer, and better!”
”Where think you, he is now?”
”In his Ponderings And those, reat chief of Roreat authors have all Mardi for an heir”
CHAPTER LXXIV A Death-Cloud Sweeps By Theht!
As in Sooloo's seas, one vast water-spout will, sudden, for Malay keels; so, before a singed cloud, a thousand prows sped by, leaving braided, foa wakes; their crowded inled forest-boughs
”See, see,” cried Yoomy, ”how the Death-cloud flies! Let us dive down in the sea”
”Nay,” said Babbalanja ”All things come of Oro; if we must drown, let Oro drown us”
”Down sails: drop paddles,” said Media: ”here we float”
Like a rushi+ng bison, sweeping by, the Death-cloud grazed us with its foa in upon the thousand prows beyond, sudden burst in deluges; and scooping out awe rocked upon the circling billohich expanding from that center, dashed every isle, till, moons after-ward, faint, they laved all Mardi's reef
”Thanks unto Oro,” murmured Mohi, ”this heart still beats”
That sun-flushed eve, we sailed by many tranquil harbors, whence fled those thousand prows Serene, the waves ran up their strands; and chimed around the unhar had been fastened
”Flying death, they ran to meet it,” said Babbalanja ”But 'tie not that they fled, they died; for ht have er live Could we gain one glireat calendar of eternity, all our naainst their dates of death We die by land, and die by sea; we die by earthquakes, faues; woe, or mirth excessive
This mortal air is one wide pestilence, that kills us all at last
Who, dies in silent watches of the night He whorape-stone, beneath the vine-clad bower he built, to shade declining years We die, because we live But none the less does Babbalanja quake And if he flies not, 'tis because he stands the center of a circle; its every point a leveled dart; and every bow, bent back:--a twang, and Babbalanja dies”
CHAPTER LXXV They Visit The Palht and h to an island, overcast with shadows; a shoas falling; and pining, plaintive notes forth issued fros of leaves The shore sloped to the water; thither our proere pointed
”Sheer off! no landing here,” cried Media, ”let us gain the sunny side; and like the care-free bachelor Abrazza, who here is king, turn our back on the isle's shadowy side, and revel in its -meads”