The next land they saw was Mardi; and they landed on the Motoo, still intent on revenge.

This recital filled Taji with horror.

Who could these avengers be, but the sons of him I had slain.  I had thought them far hence, and myself forgotten; and now, like adders, they started up in my path, as I hunted for Yillah.

But I dissembled my thoughts.

Without waiting to hear more, Borabolla, all curiosity to behold the strangers, instantly dispatched to the Motoo one of his fleetest canoes, with orders to return with the voyagers.

Ere long they came in sight; and perceiving that strange pros in tow of the king’s, Samoa cried out:  “Lo!  Taji, the canoe that was going to Tedaidee!”

Too true; the same double-keeled craft, now sorely broken, the fatal dais in wild disarray:  the canoe, the canoe of Aleema!  And with it came the spearmen three, who, when the Chamois was fleeing from their bow, had poised their javelins.  But so wan their aspect now, their faces looked like skulls.

Then came over me the wild dream of Yillah; and, for a space, like a madman, I raved.  It seemed as if the mysterious damsel must still be there; the rescue yet to be achieved.  In my delirium I rushed upon the skeletons, as they landed—­“Hide not the maiden!” But interposing, Media led me aside; when my transports abated.

Now, instantly, the strangers knew who I was; and, brandishing their javelins, they rushed upon me, as I had on them, with a yell.  But deeming us all mad, the crowd held us apart; when, writhing in the arms that restrained them, the pale specters foamed out their curses again and again:  “Oh murderer! white curses upon thee!  Bleached be thy soul with our hate!  Living, our brethren cursed thee; and dying, dry-lipped, they cursed thee again.  They died not through famishing for water, but for revenge upon thee!  Thy blood, their thirst would have slaked!”

I lay fainting against the hard-throbbing heart of Samoa, while they showered their yells through the air.  Once more, in my thoughts, the green corpse of the priest drifted by.

Among the people of Mondoldo, a violent commotion now raged.  They were amazed at Taji’s recognition by the strangers, and at the deadly ferocity they betrayed.

Rallying upon this, and perceiving that by divulging all they knew, these sons of Aleema might stir up the Islanders against me, I resolved to anticipate their story; and, turning to Borabolla, said—­ “In these strangers, oh, king! you behold the survivors of a band we encountered on our voyage.  From them I rescued a maiden, called Yillah, whom they were carrying captive.  Little more of their history do I know.”

“Their maledictions?” exclaimed Borabolla.

“Are they not delirious with suffering?” I cried.  “They know not what they say.”

So, moved by all this, he commanded them to be guarded, and conducted within his palisade; and having supplied them with cheer, entered into earnest discourse.  Yet all the while, the pale strangers on me fixed their eyes; deep, dry, crater-like hollows, lurid with flames, reflected from the fear-frozen glacier, my soul.