When I first visited this singular place with Kory-Kory, he told me—or, at least, I so understood him—that the chief was paddling his way to the realms of bliss and bread-fruit—the Polynesian heaven—where every moment the bread-fruit trees dropped their ripened spheres to the ground, and where there was no end to the cocoa-nuts and bananas; there they reposed through the live-long eternity upon mats much finer than those of Typee; and every day bathed their glowing limbs in rivers of cocoa-nut oil. In that happy land there were plenty of plumes and feathers, and boars’-tusks and sperm-whale teeth, far preferable to all the shining trinkets and gay tappa of the white men; and, best of all, women, far lovelier than the daughters of earth, were there in abundance. “A very pleasant place,” Kory-Kory said it was; “but, after all, not much pleasanter, he thought, than Typee.” “Did he not, then,” I asked him, “wish to accompany the warrior?” “Oh, no; he was very happy where he was; but supposed that some time or other he would go in his own canoe.” Thus far, I think, I clearly comprehended Kory-Kory. But there was a singular expression he made use of at the time, enforced by as singular a gesture, the meaning of which I would have given much to penetrate. I am inclined to believe it must have been a proverb he uttered; for I afterwards heard him repeat the same words several times, and in what appeared to me to be a somewhat similar sense. Indeed, Kory-Kory had a great variety of short, smart-sounding sentences, with which he frequently enlivened his discourse; and he introduced them with an air which plainly intimated, that, in his opinion, they settled the matter in question, whatever it might be. Could it have been, then, that when I asked him whether he desired to go to this heaven of bread-fruit, cocoa-nuts, and young ladies, which he had been describing, he answered by saying something equivalent to our old adage—“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush!”—if he did, Kory-Kory was a discreet and sensible fellow, and I cannot sufficiently admire his shrewdness. Whenever, in the course of my rambles through the valley, I happened to be near the chief’s mausoleum, I always turned aside to visit it. The place had a peculiar charm for me; I hardly know why, but so it was. As I leaned over the railing and gazed upon the strange effigy, and watched the play of the feathery head-dress, stirred by the same breeze which in low tones breathed amidst the lofty palm trees, I loved to yield myself up to the fanciful superstition of the islanders, and could almost believe that the grim warrior was bound heavenward. In this mood, when I turned to depart, I bade him, “God speed, and a pleasant voyage.” Ay, paddle away, brave chieftain, to the land of spirits! To the material eye thou makest but little progress, but, with the eye of faith, I see thy canoe cleaving the bright waves, which die away on those dimly looming shores of Paradise.