Whereto, the chronicler made answer, that the Pontiff affected darkness because he liked it: that he was a ruler of few words, but many deeds; and that, had Yoomy been permitted to tarry longer with him in the pagoda, he would have been privy to many strange attestations of the divinity imputed to him. Voices would have been heard in the air, gossiping with Hivohitee; noises inexplicable proceeding from him; in brief, light would have flashed out of his darkness. “But who has seen these things, Mohi?” said Babbalanja, “have you?” “Nay.” “Who then?—Media?—Any one you know?” “Nay: but the whole Archipelago has.” “Thus,” exclaimed Babbalanja, “does Mardi, blind though it be in many things, collectively behold the marvels, which one pair of eyes sees not.” CHAPTER XIV. Taji Receives Tidings And Omens Slowly sailing on, we were overtaken by a shallop; whose inmates grappling to the side of Media’s, said they came from Borabolla. Dismal tidings!—My faithful follower’s death. Absent over night, that morning early, he had been discovered lifeless in the woods, three arrows in his heart. And the three pale strangers were nowhere to be found. But a fleet canoe was missing from the beach. Slain for me! my soul sobbed out. Nor yet appeased Aleema’s manes; nor yet seemed sated the avengers’ malice; who, doubtless, were on my track. But I turned; and instantly the three canoes had been reversed; and full soon, Jarl’s dead hand in mine, had not Media interposed. “To death, your presence will not bring life back.” “And we must on,” said Babbalanja. “We seek the living, not the dead.” Thus they overruled me; and Borabolla’s messengers departed. Soon evening came, and in its shades, three shadows,—Hautia’s heralds. Their shallop glided near. A leaf tri-foiled was first presented; then another, arrow-shaped. Said Yoomy, “Still I swiftly follow, behind revenge.” Then were showered faded, pallid daffodils. Said Yoomy, “Thy hopes are blighted all.” “Not dead, but living with the life of life. Sirens! I heed ye not.” They would have showered more flowers; but crowding sail we left them. Much converse followed. Then, beneath the canopy all sought repose. And ere long slouched sleep drew nigh, tending dreams innumerable; silent dotting all the downs a shepherd with his flock. CHAPTER XV. Dreams Dreams! dreams! golden dreams: endless, and golden, as the flowery prairies, that stretch away from the Rio Sacramento, in whose waters Danae’s shower was woven;—prairies like rounded eternities: jonquil leaves beaten out; and my dreams herd like buffaloes, browsing on to the horizon, and browsing on round the world; and among them, I dash with my lance, to spear one, ere they all flee.