Of Those Scamps The Plujii
The beach gained, we embarked.
In good time our party recovered from the seriousness into which we had
been thrown; and a rather long passage being now before us, we whiled
away the hours as best we might.
Among many entertaining, narrations, old Braid-Beard, crossing his
calves, and peaking his beard, regaled us with some account of certain
invisible spirits, ycleped the Plujii, arrant little knaves as ever
gulped moonshine.
They were spoken of as inhabiting the island of Quelquo, in a remote
corner of the lagoon; the innocent people of which island were sadly
fretted and put out by their diabolical proceedings. Not to be wondered
at; since, dwelling as they did in the air, and completely
inaccessible, these spirits were peculiarly provocative of ire.
Detestable Plujii! With malice aforethought, they brought about high
winds that destroyed the banana plantations, and tumbled over the heads
of its occupants many a bamboo dwelling. They cracked the calabashes;
soured the “poee;” induced the colic; begat the spleen; and almost rent
people in twain with stitches in the side. In short, from whatever
evil, the cause of which the Islanders could not directly impute to
their gods, or in their own opinion was not referable to themselves,—of
that very thing must the invisible Plujii be guilty. With horrible
dreams, and blood-thirsty gnats, they invaded the most innocent
slumbers.
All things they bedeviled. A man with a wry neck ascribed it to the
Plujii; he with a bad memory railed against the Plujii; and the boy,
bruising his finger, also cursed those abominable spirits.
Nor, to some minds, at least, was there wanting strong presumptive
evidence, that at times, with invisible fingers, the above mentioned
Plujii did leave direct and tangible traces of their presence; pinching
and pounding the unfortunate Islanders; pulling their hair; plucking
their ears, and tweaking their beards and their noses. And thus
perpetually vexing, incensing, tormenting, and exasperating their
helpless victims, the atrocious Plujii reveled in their malicious
dominion over the souls and bodies of the people of Quelquo.
What it was, that induced them to enact such a part, Oro only knew; and
never but once, it seems, did old Mohi endeavor to find out.
Once upon a time, visiting Quelquo, he chanced to encounter an old
woman almost doubled together, both hands upon her abdomen; in that
manner running about distracted.
“My good woman,” said he, “what under the firmament is the matter?”
“The Plujii! the Plujii!” affectionately caressing the field of their
operations.
“But why do they torment you?” he soothingly inquired. “How should I
know? and what good would it do me if I did?”
And on she ran.
At this part of his narration, Mohi was interrupted by Media; who, much
to the surprise of all present, observed, that, unbeknown to him
(Braid-Beard), he happened to have been on that very island, at that
very time, and saw that identical old lady in the very midst of those
abdominal tribulations.
“That she was really in great distress,” he went on to say, “was
plainly to be seen; but that in that particular instance, your Plujii
had any hand in tormenting her, I had some boisterous doubts. For,
hearing that an hour or two previous she had been partaking of some
twenty unripe bananas, I rather fancied that that circumstance might
have had something to do with her sufferings. But however it was, all
the herb-leeches on the island would not have altered her own opinions
on the subject.”
“No,” said Braid-Beard; “a post-mortem examination would not have
satisfied her ghost.”
“Curious to relate,” he continued, “the people of that island never
abuse the Plujii, notwithstanding all they suffer at their hands,
unless under direct provocation; and a settled matter of faith is it,
that at such times all bitter words and hasty objurgations are entirely
overlooked, nay, pardoned on the spot, by the unseen genii against whom
they are directed.”
“Magnanimous Plujii!” cried Media. “But, Babbalanja, do you, who run a
tilt at all things, suffer this silly conceit to be uttered with
impunity in your presence? Why so silent?”
“I have been thinking, my lord,” said Babbalanja, “that though the
people of that island may at times err, in imputing their calamities to
the Plujii, that, nevertheless, upon the whole, they indulge in a
reasonable belief. For, Plujii or no Plujii, it is undeniable, that in
ten thousand ways, as if by a malicious agency, we mortals are woefully
put out and tormented; and that, too, by things in themselves so
exceedingly trivial, that it would seem almost impiety to ascribe them
to the august gods. No; there must exist some greatly inferior spirits;
so insignificant, comparatively, as to be overlooked by the supernal
powers; and through them it must be, that we are thus grievously
annoyed. At any rate; such a theory would supply a hiatus in my system
of meta-physics.”
“Well, peace to the Plujii,” said Media; “they trouble not me.”