In the Wrong Paradise, and Other Stories — John Shaqi
In the Wrong Paradise, and Other StoriesLang, Andrew
Science
In the Wrong Paradise, and Other Stories
Lang, Andrew
Paranormal fiction; Science fiction, English; Short stories; Slavery -- Fiction
The chief leading the way, I followed through the open entrance of the
courtyard. The yard was very spacious, and under the dark shade of the
trees I could see a light here and there in the windows of small huts
along the walls, where, as I found later, the slaves and the young men of
the family slept. In the middle of the space there was another altar, I
am sorry to say; indeed, there were altars everywhere. I never heard of
a people so religious, in their own darkened way, as these islanders. At
the further end of the court was a really large and even stately house,
with no windows but a clerestory, indicated by the line of light from
within, flickering between the top of the wall and the beginning of the
high-pitched roof. Light was also streaming through the wide doorway,
from which came the sound of many voices. The house was obviously full
of people, and, just before we reached the deep verandah, a roofed space
open to the air in front, they began to come out, some of them singing.
They had flowers in their hair, and torches in their hands. The chief,
giving me a sign to be silent, drew me apart within the shadow of a plane
tree, and we waited there till the crowd dispersed, and went, I presume,
to their own houses. There were no women among them, and the men carried
no spears nor other weapons. When the court was empty, we walked up the
broad stone steps and stood within the doorway. I was certainly much
surprised at what I saw. There was a rude magnificence about this house
such as I had never expected to find in the South Sea Islands. Nay,
though I am not unacquainted with the abodes of opulence at home, and
have been a favoured guest of some of our merchant princes (including
Messrs. Bunton, the eminent haberdashers, whose light is so generously
bestowed on our Connection), I admit that I had never looked on a more
spacious reception-room, furnished, of course, in a somewhat savage
manner, but, obviously, regardless of expense. The very threshold
between the court and the reception-room, to which you descended by
steps, was made of some dark metal, inlaid curiously with figures of
beasts and birds, also in metal (gold, as I afterwards learned), of
various shades of colour and brightness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account