embellishment of his countenance. What an impress! Far worse than
Cain's--his was perhaps a wrinkle, or a freckle, which some of our
modern cosmetics might have effaced; but the blue shark was a mark
indelible, which all the waters of Abana and Pharpar, rivers of
Damascus, could never wash out. He was an Englishman, Lem Hardy he
called himself, who had deserted from a trading brig touching at the
island for wood and water some ten years previous. He had gone ashore
as a sovereign power armed with a musket and a bag of ammunition, and
ready if need were, to prosecute war on his own account. The country
was divided by the hostile kings of several large valleys. With one
of them, from whom he first received overtures, he formed an
alliance, and became what he now was, the military leader of the
tribe, and war-god of the entire island.

His campaigns beat Napoleon's. In one night attack, his invincible
musket, backed by the light infantry of spears and javelins,
vanquished two clans, and the next morning brought all the others to
the feet of his royal ally.

Nor was the rise of his domestic fortunes at all behind the
Corsican's: three days after landing, the exquisitely tattooed hand
of a princess was his; receiving along with the damsel as her
portion, one thousand fathoms of fine tappa, fifty double-braided
mats of split grass, four hundred hogs, ten houses in different parts
of her native valley, and the sacred protection of an express edict
of the Taboo, declaring his person inviolable for ever.

Now, this man was settled for life, perfectly satisfied with his
circumstances, and feeling no desire to return to his friends.