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 Dwarf!  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,