TYPEE
A monologue from the
novel by Herman Melville
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NOTE: This monologue is reprinted
from Typee: A Peep at Polynesian Life During a Four Month's
Residence In a Valley of the Marquesas with Notices of the French
Occupation of Tahiti and the Provisional Cession of the Sandwich
Islands to Lord Paulet. Herman Melville. New York: Wiley
& Putnam, 1846. |
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TOBY: After leaving the house with Marheyo, we struck
across the valley, and ascended the opposite heights. Just beyond
them, my guide informed me, lay the valley of Happar, while along
their summits, and skirting the head of the vale, was my route
to Nukuheva. After mounting a little way up the elevation my
guide paused, and gave me to understand that he could not accompany
me any farther, and by various signs intimated that he was afraid
to approach any nearer the territories of the enemies of his
tribe. He however pointed out my path, which now lay clearly
before me, and bidding me farewell, hastily descended the mountain.
Quite elated at being so near the Happars, I pushed up the acclivity,
and soon gained its summit. It tapered to a sharp ridge, from
whence I beheld both the hostile valleys. Here I sat down and
rested for a moment, refreshing myself with my coconuts. I was
soon again pursuing my way along the height, when suddenly I
saw three of the islanders, who must have just come out of Happar
valley, standing in the path ahead of me. They were each armed
with a heavy spear, and one from his appearance I took to be
a chief. They sung out something, I could not understand what,
and beckoned me to come on. Without the least hesitation I advanced
towards them, and had approached within about a yard of the foremost,
when, pointing angrily into the Typee valley, and uttering some
savage exclamation, he wheeled round his weapon like lightning,
and struck me in a moment to the ground. The blow inflicted
this wound, and took away my senses. As soon as I came to myself,
I perceived the three islanders standing a little distance off,
and apparently engaged in some violent altercation respecting
me. My first impulse was to run for it; but, in endeavouring
to rise, I fell back, and rolled down a little grassy precipice.
The shock seemed to rally my faculties; so, starting to my feet,
I fled down the path I had just ascended. I had no need to look
behind me, for, from the yells I heard, I knew that my enemies
were in full pursuit. Urged on by their fearful outcries, and
heedless of the injury I had received--though the blood flowing
from the wound trickled over into my eyes and almost blinded
me--I rushed down the mountain side with the speed of the wind.
In a short time I had descended nearly a third of the distance,
and the savages had ceased their cries, when suddenly a terrific
howl burst upon my ear, and at the same moment a heavy javelin
darted past me as I fled, and stuck quivering in a tree close
to me. Another yell followed, and a second spear and a third
shot through the air within a few feet of my body, both of them
piercing the ground obliquely in advance of me. The fellows
gave a roar of rage and disappointment; but they were afraid,
I suppose, of coming down further into the Typee valley, and
so abandoned the chase. I saw them recover their weapons and
turn back; and I continued my descent as fast as I could. What
could have caused this ferocious attack on the part of these
Happars I could not imagine, unless it were that they had seen
me ascending the mountain with Marheyo, and that the mere fact
of coming from the Typee valley was sufficient to provoke them.
As long as I was in danger I scarcely felt the wound I had received;
but when the chase was over I began to suffer from it. I had
lost my hat in the flight, and the run scorched my bare head.
I felt faint and giddy; but, fearful of falling to the ground
beyond the reach of assistance, I staggered on as well as I could,
and at last gained the level of the valley, and then down I sank;
and I knew nothing more until I found myself lying upon these
mats, and you stooping over me with the calabash of water.
MORE
MONOLOGUES BY HERMAN MELVILLE |
