Chapter 7

They Visit The Lake Of Yammo

From the Morai, we bent our steps toward an unoccupied arbor; and
here, refreshing ourselves with the viands presented by Borabolla, we
passed the night. And next morning proceeded to voyage round to the
opposite quarter of the island; where, in the sacred lake of Yammo,
stood the famous temple of Oro, also the great gallery of the inferior
deities.

The lake was but a portion of the smooth lagoon, made separate by an
arm of wooded reef, extending from the high western shore of the
island, and curving round toward a promontory, leaving a narrow
channel to the sea, almost invisible, however, from the land-locked
interior.

In this lake were many islets, all green with groves. Its main-shore
was a steep acclivity, with jutting points, each crowned with mossy
old altars of stone, or ruinous temples, darkly reflected in the
green, glassy water; while, from its long line of stately trees, the
low reef-side of the lake looked one verdant bluff.

Gliding in upon Yammo, its many islets greeted us like a little Mardi;
but ever and anon we started at long lines of phantoms in the water,
reflections of the long line of images on the shore.

Toward the islet of Dolzono we first directed our way; and there we
beheld the great gallery of the gods; a mighty temple, resting on one
hundred tall pillars of palm, each based, below the surface, on the
buried body of a man; its nave one vista of idols; names carved on
their foreheads: Ogre, Tripoo, Indrimarvoki, Parzillo, Vivivi,
Jojijojorora, Jorkraki, and innumerable others.

Crowds of attendants were new-grouping the images.

"My lord, you behold one of their principal occupations," said Mohi.

Said Media: "I have heard much of the famed image of Mujo, the Nursing
Mother;--can you point it out, Braid-Beard?"

"My lord, when last here, I saw Mujo at the head of this file; but
they must have removed it; I see it not now."

"Do these attendants, then," said Babbalanja, "so continually new-
marshal the idols, that visiting the gallery to-day, you are at a loss
to-morrow?"

"Even so," said Braid-Beard. "But behold, my lord, this image is Mujo."

We stood before an obelisk-idol, so towering, that gazing at it, we
were fain to throw back our heads. According to Mohi, winding stairs
led up through its legs; its abdomen a cellar, thick-stored with
gourds of old wine; its head, a hollow dome; in rude alto-relievo, its
scores of hillock-breasts were carved over with legions of baby
deities, frog-like sprawling; while, within, were secreted whole
litters of infant idols, there placed, to imbibe divinity from the
knots of the