A Book From The Chronicles Of Mohi
Many ages ago, there reigned in Juam a king called Teei. This Teei’s
succession to the sovereignty was long disputed by his brother Marjora;
who at last rallying round him an army, after many vicissitudes,
defeated the unfortunate monarch in a stout fight of clubs on the
beach.
In those days, Willamilla during a certain period of the year was a
place set apart for royal games and diversions; and was furnished with
suitable accommodations for king and court. From its peculiar position,
moreover, it was regarded as the last stronghold of the Juam monarchy:
in remote times having twice withstood the most desperate assaults from
without. And when Roonoonoo, a famous upstart, sought to subdue all the
isles in this part of the Archipelago, it was to Willamilla that the
banded kings had repaired to take counsel together; and while there
conferring, were surprised at the sudden onslaught of Roonoonoo in
person. But in the end, the rebel was captured, he and all his army,
and impaled on the tops of the hills.
Now, defeated and fleeing for his life, Teei with his surviving
followers was driven across the plain toward the mountains. But to cut
him off from all escape to inland Willamilla, Marjora dispatched a
fleet band of warriors to occupy the entrance of the defile.
Nevertheless, Teei the pursued ran faster than his pursuers; first
gained the spot; and with his chiefs, fled swiftly down the gorge,
closely hunted by Marjora’s men. But arriving at the further end, they
in vain sought to defend it. And after much desperate fighting, the
main body of the foe corning up with great slaughter the fugitives were
driven into the glen.
They ran to the opposite wall of cliff; where turning, they fought at
bay, blood for blood, and life for life, till at last, overwhelmed by
numbers, they were all put to the point of the spear.
With fratricidal hate, singled out by the ferocious Marjora, Teei fell
by that brother’s hand. When stripping from the body the regal girdle,
the victor wound it round his own loins; thus proclaiming himself king
over Juam.
Long torn by this intestine war, the island acquiesced in the new
sovereignty. But at length a sacred oracle declared, that since the
conqueror had slain his brother in deep Willamilla, so that Teei never
more issued from that refuge of death; therefore, the same fate should
be Marjora’s; for never, thenceforth, from that glen, should he go
forth; neither Marjora; nor any son of his girdled loins; nor his son’s
sons; nor the uttermost scion of his race.
But except this denunciation, naught was denounced against the usurper;
who, mindful of the tenure by which he reigned, ruled over the island
for many moons; at his death bequeathing the girdle to his son.
In those days, the wildest superstitions concerning the interference of
the gods in things temporal, prevailed to a much greater extent than at
present. Hence Marjora himself, called sometimes in the traditions of
the island, The-Heart-of-Black-Coral, even unscrupulous Marjora had
quailed before the oracle. “He bowed his head,” say the legends. Nor
was it then questioned, by his most devoted adherents, that had he
dared to act counter to that edict, he had dropped dead, the very
instant he went under the shadow of the defile. This persuasion also
guided the conduct of the son of Marjora, and that of his grandson.
But there at last came to pass a change in the popular fancies
concerning this ancient anathema. The penalty denounced against the
posterity of the usurper should they issue from the glen, came to be
regarded as only applicable to an invested monarch, not to his
relatives, or heirs.
A most favorable construction of the ban; for all those related to the
king, freely passed in and out of Willamilla.
From the time of the usurpation, there had always been observed a
certain ceremony upon investing the heir to the sovereignty with the
girdle of Teei. Upon these occasions, the chief priests of the island
were present, acting an important part. For the space of as many days,
as there had reigned kings of Marjora’s dynasty, the inner mouth of the
defile remained sealed; the new monarch placing the last stone in the
gap. This symbolized his relinquishment forever of all purpose of
passing out of the glen. And without this observance, was no king
girdled in Juam.
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, that I might determine
aright. Yet why do I pause? did not Rani, and Atama, and Mardonna, my
ancestors, each see for himself, free Mardi; and did they not fly the
proffered girdle; choosing rather to be free to come and go, than bury
themselves forever in this fatal glen? Oh Mardi! Mardi! art thou then
so fair to see? Is liberty a thing so glorious? Yet can I be no king,
and behold thee! Too late, too late, to view thy charms and then
return. My sire! my sire! thou hast wrung my heart with this agony of
doubt. Tell me, comrades,—for ye have seen it,—is Mardi sweeter to
behold, than it is royal to reign over Juam? Silent, are ye? Knowing
what ye do, were ye me, would ye be kings? Tell me, Talara.—No king: no
king:—that were to obey, and not command. And none hath Donjalolo ere
obeyed but the king his father. A king, and my voice may be heard in
farthest Mardi, though I abide in narrow Willamilla. My sire! my sire!
Ye flying clouds, what look ye down upon? Tell me, what ye see abroad?
Methinks sweet spices breathe from out the cave.”
“Hail, Donjalolo, King of Juam,” now sounded with acclamations from the
groves.
Starting, the young prince beheld a multitude approaching: warriors
with spears, and maidens with flowers; and Kubla, a priest, lifting on
high the tasseled girdle of Teei, and waving it toward him.
The young chiefs fell back. Kubla, advancing, came close to the prince,
and unclasping the badge of royalty, exclaimed, “Donjalolo, this
instant it is king or subject with thee: wilt thou be girdled monarch?”
Gazing one moment up the dark defile, then staring vacantly, Donjalolo
turned and met the eager gaze of Darfi. Stripping off his mantle, the
next instant he was a king.
Loud shouted the multitude, and exulted; but after mutely assisting at
the closing of the cavern, the new-girdled monarch retired sadly to his
dwelling, and was not seen again for many days.