Great Taboo

Grant Allen

Description

Canadian-born Grant Allen was a highly prolific and multi-talented writer who achieved literary acclaim in a number of genres, spanning nonfiction and fiction alike. The Great Taboo is a high seas adventure that will appeal to fans of H. Rider Haggard, Patrick O'Brian, and Jules Verne.

Sujets

• Adventure
• Adventure (Guyana)

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 juillet 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776581795
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE GREAT TABOO
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GRANT ALLEN
 
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The Great Taboo First published in 1890 Epub ISBN 978-1-77658-179-5 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77658-180-1 © 2013 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Preface Chapter I - In Mid Pacific Chapter II - The Temple of the Deity Chapter III - Land; but What Land? Chapter IV - The Guests of Heaven Chapter V - Enrolled in Olympus Chapter VI - First Days in Boupari Chapter VII - Interchange of Civilities Chapter VIII - The Customs of Boupari Chapter IX - Sowing the Wind Chapter X - Reaping the Whirlwind Chapter XI - After the Storm Chapter XII - A Point of Theology Chapter XIII - As Between Gods Chapter XIV - "Mr. Thurstan, I Presume" Chapter XV - The Secret of Korong Chapter XVI - A Very Faint Clue Chapter XVII - Facing the Worst Chapter XVIII - Tu-Kila-Kila Plays a Card Chapter XIX - Domestic Bliss Chapter XX - Council of War Chapter XXI - Methuselah Gives Sign Chapter XXII - Tantalizing, Very Chapter XXIII - A Message from the Dead Chapter XXIV - An Unfinished Tale Chapter XXV - Tu-Kila-Kila Strikes Chapter XXVI - A Rash Resolve Chapter XXVII - A Strange Ally Chapter XXVIII - Wager of Battle Chapter XXIX - Victory—And After? Chapter XXX - Suspense Chapter XXXI - At Sea: Off Boupari Chapter XXXII - The Downfall of a Pantheon
Preface
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I desire to express my profound indebtedness, for the centralmythological idea embodied in this tale, to Mr. J.G. Frazer's admirableand epoch-making work, "The Golden Bough," whose main contention I haveendeavored incidentally to popularize in my present story. I wish also toexpress my obligations in other ways to Mr. Andrew Lang's "Myth, Ritual,and Religion," Mr. H.O. Forbes's "Naturalist's Wanderings," and Mr.Julian Thomas's "Cannibals and Convicts." If I have omitted to mentionany other author to whom I may have owed incidental hints, it will besome consolation to me to reflect that I shall at least have afforded anopportunity for legitimate sport to the amateurs of the new and popularBritish pastime of badger-baiting or plagiary-hunting. It may also savecritics some moments' search if I say at once that, after carefulconsideration, I have been unable to discover any moral whatsoever inthis humble narrative. I venture to believe that in so enlightened an agethe majority of my readers will never miss it.
G.A.
THE NOOK, DORKING, October, 1890.
Chapter I - In Mid Pacific
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"Man overboard!"
It rang in Felix Thurstan's ears like the sound of a bell. He gazed abouthim in dismay, wondering what had happened.
The first intimation he received of the accident was that sudden sharpcry from the bo'sun's mate. Almost before he had fully taken it in, inall its meaning, another voice, farther aft, took up the cry once more inan altered form: "A lady! a lady! Somebody overboard! Great heavens, itis her ! It's Miss Ellis! Miss Ellis!"
Next instant Felix found himself, he knew not how, struggling in a wildgrapple with the dark, black water. A woman was clinging to him—clingingfor dear life. But he couldn't have told you himself that minute how itall took place. He was too stunned and dazzled.
He looked around him on the seething sea in a sudden awakening, as itwere, to life and consciousness. All about, the great water stretcheddark and tumultuous. White breakers surged over him. Far ahead thesteamer's lights gleamed red and green in long lines upon the ocean. Atfirst they ran fast; then they slackened somewhat. She was surely slowingnow; they must be reversing engines and trying to stop her. They wouldput out a boat. But what hope, what chance of rescue by night, in such awild waste of waves as that? And Muriel Ellis was clinging to him fordear life all the while, with the despairing clutch of a half-drownedwoman!
The people on the Australasian, for their part, knew better what hadoccurred. There was bustle and confusion enough on deck and on thecaptain's bridge, to be sure: "Man overboard!"—three sharp rings at theengine bell:—"Stop her short!—reverse engines!—lower the gig!—looksharp, there, all of you!" Passengers hurried up breathless at the firstalarm to know what was the matter. Sailors loosened and lowered the boatfrom the davits with extraordinary quickness. Officers stood by, givingorders in monosyllables with practised calm. All was hurry and turmoil,yet with a marvellous sense of order and prompt obedience as well. But,at any rate, the people on deck hadn't the swift swirl of the boisterouswater, the hampering wet clothes, the pervading consciousness of personaldanger, to make their brains reel, like Felix Thurstan's. They could askone another with comparative composure what had happened on board; theycould listen without terror to the story of the accident.
It was the thirteenth day out from Sydney, and the Australasian wasrapidly nearing the equator. Toward evening the wind had freshened, andthe sea was running high against her weather side. But it was a finestarlit night, though the moon had not yet risen; and as the brieftropical twilight faded away by quick degrees in the west, the fringe ofcocoanut palms on the reef that bounded the little island of Bouparishowed out for a minute or two in dark relief, some miles to leeward,against the pale pink horizon. In spite of the heavy sea, many passengerslingered late on deck that night to see the last of that coral-girtshore, which was to be their final glimpse of land till they reachedHonolulu, en route for San Francisco.
Bit by bit, however, the cocoanut palms, silhouetted with their gracefulwaving arms for a few brief minutes in black against the glowingbackground, merged slowly into the sky or sank below the horizon. Allgrew dark. One by one, as the trees disappeared, the passengers droppedoff for whist in the saloon, or retired to the uneasy solitude of theirown state-rooms. At last only two or three men were left smoking andchatting near the top of the companion ladder; while at the stern of theship Muriel Ellis looked over toward the retreating island, and talkedwith a certain timid maidenly frankness to Felix Thurstan.
There's nowhere on earth for getting really to know people in a veryshort time like the deck of a great Atlantic or Pacific liner. You'rethrown together so much, and all day long, that you see more of yourfellow-passengers' inner life and nature in a few brief weeks than youwould ever be likely to see in a long twelvemonth of ordinary town orcountry acquaintanceship. And Muriel Ellis had seen a great deal in thosethirteen days of Felix Thurstan; enough to make sure in her own heartthat she really liked him—well—so much that she looked up with a prettyblush of self-consciousness every time he approached and lifted his hatto her. Muriel was an English rector's daughter, from a country villagein Somersetshire; and she was now on her way back from a long year'svisit, to recruit her health, to an aunt in Paramatta. She was travellingunder the escort of an amiable old chaperon whom the aunt in question hadpicked up for her before leaving Sydney; but, as the amiable oldchaperon, being but an indifferent sailor, spent most of her time in herown berth, closely attended by the obliging stewardess, Muriel had foundher chaperonage interfere very little with opportunities of talk withthat nice Mr. Thurstan. And now, as the last glow of sunset died out inthe western sky, and the last palm-tree faded away against the coldergreen darkness of the tropical night, Muriel was leaning over thebulwarks in confidential mood, and watching the big waves advance orrecede, and talking the sort of talk that such an hour seems to favorwith the handsome young civil servant who stood on guard, as it were,beside her. For Felix Thurstan held a government appointment at Levuka,in Fiji, and was now on his way home, on leave of absence after sixyears' service in that new-made colony.
"How delightful it would be to live on an island like that!" Murielmurmured, half to herself, as she gazed out wistfully in the direction ofthe disappearing coral reef. "With those beautiful palms waving alwaysover one's head, and that delicious evening air blowing cool throughtheir branches! It looks such a Paradise!"
Felix smiled and glanced down at her, as he steadied himself with onehand against the bulwark, while the ship rolled over into the trough ofthe sea heavily. "Well, I don't know about that, Miss Ellis," he answeredwith a doubtful air, eying her close as he spoke with eyes of evidentadmiration. "One might be happy anywhere, of course—in suitable society;but if you'd lived as long among cocoanuts in Fiji as I have, I dare saythe poetry of these calm palm-grove islands would be a little less realto you. Remember, though they look so beautiful and dreamy against thesky like that, at sunset especially (that was a heavy one, that time;I'm really afraid we must go down to the cabin soon; she'll be shippingseas before long if we stop on deck much later—and yet, it's sodelightful stopping up here till the dusk comes on, isn't it?)—well,remember, I was saying, though they look so beautiful and dreamy andpoetical—'Summer isles of Eden lying in dark purple spheres of sea,' andall that sort of thing—these islands are inhabited by the fiercest andmost bloodthirsty cannibals known to travellers."
"Cannibals!" Muriel repeated, looking up at him in surprise. "You don'tmean to say that islands like these, standing right in the very track ofEuropean steamers,