THE HEGIRA, OR FLIGHT
"I SAY, doctor," cried I, a few days after my adventure with the
goblin, as, in the absence of our host, we were one morning lounging
upon the matting in his dwelling, smoking our reed pipes, "Tamai's a
thriving place; why not settle down?"
"Faith!" said he, "not a bad idea, Paul. But do you fancy they'll let
us stay, though?"
"Why, certainly; they would be overjoyed to have a couple of
Karhowrees for townsmen."
"Gad! you're right, my pleasant fellow. Ha! ha! I'll put up a
banana-leaf as a physician from London - deliver lectures on
Polynesian antiquities - teach English in five lessons, of one hour
each - establish power-looms for the manufacture of tappa - lay out a
public park in the middle of the village, and found a festival in
honour of Captain Cook!"
"But, surely, not without stopping to take breath," observed I.
The doctor's projects, to be sure, were of a rather visionary cast;
but we seriously thought, nevertheless, of prolonging our stay in the
valley for an indefinite period; and, with this understanding, we
were turning over various plans for spending our time pleasantly,
when several women came running into the house, and hurriedly
besought us to heree! heree! (make our escape), crying out something
about the Mickonarees.
Thinking that we were about to be taken up under the act for the
suppression of vagrancy, we flew out of the house, sprang into a
canoe before the door, and paddled with might and main over to the
opposite side of the lake.
