that he should feel an invincible desire to roam at liberty among the green groves and deep glens visible from the deck? and that he should ultimately determine to desert?

To a mind predisposed to such a step, it is not to be supposed that a legitimate causa belli would long be wanting. We are not disposed to scrutinize too severely the merits of the defence made by Mr. Melville for his apparent breach of faith in leaving his vessel. Suffice it, that the temptation was strong, the opportunity favourable, and that his scheme was carried into effect. He appears originally to have intended to have started on his adventures in solitude, but circumstances altered his original determination. A shipmate of the self-given nickname of Toby, for his real name he would never divulge, was easily persuaded to link his fortunes with those of the spirited young adventurer. Toby was a young man "who evidently, like the author, had moved in a different sphere of life." "He was singularly small and slightly made, with great flexibility of limb." "He was a strange wayward being, moody, fitful, and melancholy at times, almost morose. He had a quick and fiery temper, too, which, when thoroughly roused, transported him into a state bordering on delirium.' The intention of our wanderers was to leave the vessel, and to remain as long as might be agreeable among the friendly natives of Makaheva, leaving the island at the first favourable opportunity that offered, when they should be satiated.

The plan once arranged, an opportunity for putting it into execution was not long wanting. The watch to which Mr. Melville and his companion belonged, were sent ashore for liberty. The rainy season was commencing; a heavy tropical shower came on as the party landed. They took shelter under a canoehouse, where, after chatting awhile, the majority of them fell asleep. Taking advantage of a moment so favourable, our adventurers left the house, and made the best of their way towards the mountains by which the bay was encircled. The ascent was difficult and perilous, but was at length accomplished. The day cleared up as they reached the summit, and a magnificent view of the natural amphitheatre before them somewhat rewarded the travellers for their exertions.

"The lovely bay of Makaheva," says Mr. Melville, "dotted here and there with the black hulls of the vessels composing the French squadron, lay reposing at the base of a circular range of elevations, whose verdant sides, perforated with deep glens or diversified with smiling valleys, formed altogether the loveliest view I ever beheld; and were I to live a hundred years, I should never forget the feeling of admiration which I then experienced."

At this early period of their peregrinations an unforeseen ob

stacle arose, which seemed for the time fatal to the further carrying out of their project. Relying for their subsistence entirely on the fruit-trees with which the lower part of the island is covered, they had neglected to provide themselves with any large quantity of provisions; and now, for the first time, it became apparent that, though the mountains were most picturesquely wooded, the palm and bread-fruit trees were entirely confined to the lower regions. Their position was indeed one of considerable embarrassment: their united stock of provender amounted but to a few handfuls of biscuit. They had also provided themselves with a considerable quantity of calico print, and several pounds of tobacco, as presents to the natives. The rain which had descended in the morning had amalgamated these incongruous materials into "such a villainous compound," as to render the most important of its ingredients almost unserviceable.

There appeared to be no alternative but starving or returning to the ship; the latter would not sail for ten days, and a descent during that period towards the harbour must have been followed by speedy recapture. But our heroes were not to be easily daunted. They resolved to husband their supplies, and to trust to Providence; and determining to fast for the remainder of the day, set about searching for a night's lodging. Two days were passed among the hills. The bivouacs to which they were driven were sufficiently uncomfortable: the showers to which they were exposed were drenching, and a tea-spoonful of biscuit, stained with paint and tobacco-juice, was the daily allowance of each. The captain of the whaler had surely been satisfied, had he been aware of their condition.

It chanced that, in the course of their wanderings, they came unexpectedly on the verge of a precipice, which formed one of the boundaries of a rich and fertile valley, of about nine miles in length and one in breadth, the gorge of which opened on the sea. Rich with every kind of fruit-tree, intersected in all directions by "silent cascades," and evidently inhabited, such a prospect was indeed a tantalizing one to almost starving men. Their first impulse was to endeavour to make their way at once to the valley; but subsequent considerations induced them to defer their project. There was no accessible path visible, by which they could descend, and they were ignorant of the tribe of the natives before them. Should they prove to be Happars, they knew all would be well; they might then look forward to a cordial welcome, and an agreeable realization of their prospect of a prolonged stay among the natives. Should the valley, on the other hand, which was equally probable, turn out to be the country of the savage Typeés, the probability seemed so strong of their fur

nishing instead of procuring a meal, that, in spite of the state of their supplies, in spite of the inclemency of the weather, in spite even of the fever and ague with which Mr. Melville now began to be afflicted, our travellers determined to endeavour to hold out a little longer. But necessity has no law. A few days more, and their provisions were almost entirely gone. No fruittrees had as yet appeared on the mountains. Mr. Melville began to be troubled by lameness, and it was ultimately resolved that, come what would, they would endeavour to reach the valley. But how was the descent to be accomplished? The valley was hemmed in by precipices "steep as the sides of a man-of-war, and about a hundred times as high." After some consideration, our adventurers determined to follow the windings of a stream, which flowed apparently in the direction of the valley. They did so; but the difficulties to which they were exposed in their expedition were unforeseen and almost insuperable. There were precipices to be descended; there were deep streams to be forded. Their exertions were, however, ultimately rewarded with success, and after nearly a week of starvation, of toil, and of hardship, our travellers at length stood at the head of the valley, which had excited their hopes and fears from the surrounding precipices.

The physical obstacles thus surmounted, the all-important question of Happar or Typee once more arose. The alternative was fearful: "A frightful death at the hands of the fiercest of cannibals, or a kindly reception from a gentler race of savages." Having abated their hunger by the fruits which were now plentiful, they proceeded on their way, boldly determining to risk whatever reception they might meet with. Nor was the crisis long deferred; a boy and girl were the first natives they encountered. Having with some difficulty established something like intercourse with the young savages, they proceeded under their guidance to the dwellings of the tribe.

The scene

The vital question was now about to be decided. that followed being extremely interesting, and forming an important epoch in the story, we give it in Mr. Melville's own words. It was in a large bamboo house that what follows took place.

"It was now evening, and by the dim light we could just discern the savage countenances around us, gleaming with wild curiosity and wonder; the naked forms and tatooed limbs of the brawny warriors, with here and there the slighter figures of young girls, all engaged in a perfect storm of conversation, of which we were of course the only theme; whilst our recent guides were fully occupied in answering the innumerable questions which every one put to them. Nothing can

exceed the fierce gesticulation of these people when animated in conversation, and on this occasion they gave loose to all their natural vivacity, shouting and dancing about in a manner that well nigh intimidated us.

"Close to where we lay, squatting upon their haunches, were some eight or ten noble-looking chiefs,-for such they subsequently proved to be,-who, more reserved than the rest, regarded us with a fixed and stern attention, which not a little discomposed our equanimity. One of them in particular, who appeared to be the highest in rank, placed himself directly facing me, looking at me with a rigidity of aspect under which I absolutely quailed. He never once opened his lips, but maintained his severe expression of countenance, without turning his face aside for a single moment. Never before had I been subjected to so strange and steady a glance; it revealed nothing of the mind of the savage, but it appeared to be reading my own.

"After undergoing this scrutiny till I became absolutely nervous, with a view of diverting, if possible, and conciliating the good opinion of the warrior, I took some tobacco from the bosom of my frock, and offered it to him. He quietly rejected the proffered gift, and without speaking, motioned me to return it to its place.

"In my previous intercourse with the natives of Makaheva and Tior, I had found that the present of a small piece of tobacco would have rendered any of them devoted to my service. Was this act of

the chief a token of his enmity? Typee or Happar, I asked within myself. I started, for at the same moment this identical question was asked by the strange being before me. I turned to Toby; the flickering light of a native taper showed me his countenance, pale with trepidation at this fatal question. I paused for a second, and I know not by what impulse it was that I answered Typee.' The piece of dusky statuary nodded in approval, and then murmured Morturkee, (good). Morturkee,' said I, without further hesitation, Typee morturkee.'

"What a transition! The dark figures around us leaped to their feet, clapped their hands in transport, and shouted again and again the talismanic syllables, the utterance of which appeared to have settled every thing."

Having thus established a friendly understanding with the much-dreaded Typees, the hospitality of the latter knew no bounds. Speedily were our wayfarers initiated into the mysteries of Polynesian domestic economy. An interchange of names took place in the first instance. Mr. Melville, having ascertained that the name of his royal entertainer (for such he in reality was) was Mehevi, christened himself "Tom," a designation, however, utterly unpronounceable to the natives, who substituted the more mellifluous cognomen of "Tommo," by which he was known during the remainder of his stay among them. Toby having also introduced himself, and with more success, the

pair were billeted on the family to whose house they had been originally conducted, and as the evening closed in, were gradually left to solitude, repose, and reflection.

On the following morning, arrangements were made by the sable hosts for the accommodation of their unexpected guests. The head of the house, Marhego by name, was a decrepid old native of "gigantic frame, and once possessed of prodigious personal powers. He was completely in his dotage, but was of a noble and benevolent nature. His son Kory Kory, an athletic young fellow, but as hideous as the operation of tatooing could make him, was attached as body servant to the author, who appears, indeed, to have come in for the lion's share of the kind offices of the savages. The dingy valet appears to have united the capacities of menial, buffoon, and beast of burden; now feeding his master with his own hands, now endeavouring to divert him with clumsy antics, now conveying him on his back to the various lions of the island. Mr. Melville also found great favour in the eyes of royalty, nor were the charms of love wanting to add to his felicity. It would be unfair to Mr. Melville not to allow him to speak for himself on the subject of charms which appear completely to have fascinated him. The following is his description of the "gentle savage of the wild," Fazawaz:

"Her free, pliant figure was the very perfection of female grace and beauty. Her complexion was a rich and mantling olive, and when watching the glow upon her cheeks, I could almost swear that beneath the transparent medium there lurked the bushes of a faint vermilion. The face of this girl was a rounded oval, and each feature as perfectly formed as the heart or imagination of man could desire. Her full lips, when parted with a smile, disclosed teeth of a dazzling whiteness; and when her rosy mouth opened with a burst of merriment, they looked like the milk-white seeds of the arli, a fruit of the valley, which, when cleft in twain, shows them reposing in rows on either side, embedded in the rich and juicy pulp."

Charms such as these, when accompanied, as they were in the present instance, by "hair of the deepest brown, strange blue eyes, and hands soft and delicate as those of any countess," were sufficient to compensate in some measure to our hero for his six months' voyage, his subsequent hardships, and his present doubtful position. Though in fact prisoners, there was no immediate restraint placed upon the motions of our adventurers. Their captivity was neither solitary nor accompanied by hard labour, and had it not been for their anxiety respecting the ultimate intentions of the natives, and for an extraordinary description of lameness which Tommo now begun to suffer, their time might have passed pleasantly enough. The natives of Polynesia are by