Short story on A Day in the life of a Savage – II

As noon approached, all those who had wandered forth from our dwelling began to return. When midday had fairly come, scarcely a sound was to be heard in the valley, for a deep sleep fell upon all.

The midday sleep was hardly ever omitted, except by old Marheyo, who was such a queer old character that he seemed to have no fixed rules of life whatever; according to his mood of the moment, he spelt, ate, or tinkered away at his little hut, without regard to time. Frequently he might have been seen taking a nap in the sun at noonday or a bath in the stream at midnight. Once I be held him perched, eighty feet from the ground, in the tuft of a coconut tree, smoking; and often I saw him standing up to the waist in water, engaged in plucking out the stray hairs of his beard, using a piece of mussel-shell for tweezers.

The noontide slumber lasted generally an hour and a half; very often, it was longer. After the sleepers had risen from their mats, they again turned to their pipes, and then made preparations for the most important meal of the day. I, however, usually enjoyed the afternoon repast with the warrior chiefs of the Ti, who were always pleased to see me, and lavishly spread before me all the good thing which their larder afforded. Mehevi generally produced, among other dainties, a backed pig, an article of food, which was provided specially for me. The Ti was a jolly place, and it did my heart, as well as my body, good to visit it. No women were allowed to enter it, so that there was no end to the mirth of the warriors.

After spending a considerable part of the afternoon at the Ti, I usually found myself, as the cool of the evening came on the little lake with a companion, or bathing in the waters of the stream with a number of the savages who at this hour always thither.

As the shadows of night approached, Marheyo’s household once more assembled under his roof. Tapers were lit, long and curious chants were raised, and unending stories were told, of which I understood almost nothing.

The young girls very often danced by moonlight in front of their dwellings. There is a great variety of these dances, in which, however, I never saw the men take part. They all consist of active romping movements in which every limb is brought into use. Indeed, the Typee girls seem to dance all over,; not only do their feet dance, but their arms, hands, and fingers-yes, their very eyes seem to dance in their heads. They sway their flatting forms, arch their necks, toss aloft their arms and glide, and swim, and whirl in a way that was marvelous to behold. The girls wear flowers and flowing gala tunics; and when they plume themselves for the dance they look like a band of olive-colored nymphs on the point of taking wing.

Unless some particular feast was being held, the members of Marheyo’s household retired to their mats rather early in the evening; but they did not retire for the night, again, relit their tapers, and took their third and last meal of the day, at which breadfruit alone was eaten. Then, after a whiff from a pipe of tobacco, they gave themselves up to the great business of night sleep.

With the Typee people, indeed, sleep night be called the great business of life, for they pass a large portion of their time in its arms. The strength of their bodies is in no way shown more clearly than in the quantity of sleep they can endure. Too many of them, indeed, life is little else than an often-interrupted but delightful nap.

– By Herman Melville