Chapter Thirty - Page 2

streak, like the one which adorned
Kory-Kory, crossed the countenance of the victim.

In spite of all the efforts of the poor old man, sundry
twitchings and screwings of the muscles of the face denoted the
exquisite sensibility of these shutters to the windows of his
soul, which he was now having repainted. But the artist, with a
heart as callous as that of an army surgeon, continued his
performance, enlivening his labours with a wild chant, tapping
away the while as merrily as a woodpecker.

So deeply engaged was he in his work, that he had not observed
our approach, until, after having, enjoyed an unmolested view of
the operation, I chose to attract his attention. As soon as he
perceived me, supposing that I sought him in his professional
capacity, he seized hold of me in a paroxysm of delight, and was
an eagerness to begin the work. When, however, I gave him to
understand that he had altogether mistaken my views, nothing
could exceed his grief and disappointment. But recovering from
this, he seemed determined not to discredit my assertion, and
grasping his implements, he flourished them about in fearful
vicinity to my face, going through an imaginary performance of
his art, and every moment bursting into some admiring exclamation
at the beauty of his designs.

Horrified at the bare thought of being rendered hideous for life
if the wretch were to execute his purpose upon me, I struggled to
get away from him, while Kory-Kory, turning traitor, stood by,
and besought me to comply with the outrageous request. On my
reiterated refusals the excited artist got half beside himself,
and was overwhelmed with sorrow at losing so noble an opportunity
of distinguishing himself in his profession.

The idea of engrafting his tattooing upon my white skin filled
him with all a painter's enthusiasm; again and again he gazed
into my countenance, and every fresh glimpse seemed to add to the
vehemence of his ambition. Not knowing to what extremities he
might proceed, and shuddering at the ruin he might inflict upon
my figure-head, I now endeavoured to draw off his attention from
it, and holding out my arm in a fit of desperation, signed to him
to commence operations. But he rejected the compromise
indignantly, and still continued his attack on my face, as though
nothing short of that would satisfy him. When his forefinger
swept across my features, in laying out the borders of those
parallel bands which were to encircle my countenance, the flesh
fairly crawled upon my bones. At last, half wild with terror and
indignation, I succeeded in breaking away from the three savages,
and fled towards old Marheyo's house, pursued by the indomitable
artist, who ran after me, implements in hand. Kory-Kory,