Chapter XII: Part III: Barbarian Days (9)

Walking alone in those splendid nights I used to hear a dry, ominous coughing in the huts of the natives. I felt as though I were treading upon the brinks of half-dug graves, and I longed to bring a respite to the doomed race.

One windy afternoon we cut our stern hawser in a fair wind and sailed out of the harbor; I felt a sense of relief, and moralized for five minutes without stopping. Then I turned away from all listeners and saw those glorious green peaks growing dim in the distance; the clouds embraced them in their profound secrecy; like a lovely mirage Tahiti floated upon the bosom of the sea. Between sea and sky was swallowed up vale, garden, and waterfall; point after point crowded with palms; peak above peak in that eternal crown of beauty; and with them the nation of warriors and lovers falling like the leaf, but, unlike it, with no followers in the new season.

[Decoration]

Cambridge: Electrotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.

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Transcriber's note:

Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.

Simple typographical errors were corrected.

"[Decoration]" indicates that the original book contained a decorative headpiece (at the beginning of a chapter) or tailpiece (at the end of a chapter).

Page 43, first sentence after "HOW I CONVERTED MY CANNIBAL", before "chum": duplicate "my" removed; it does not occur in other editions.