{"id":"01KG8AKMFAJ63PPE0KMGCSH3HW","cid":"bafkreibcpxshgdvayy6ycjq7pqn4dqvzyuiaipglkdplxnryhbzrtytkmy","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":8230,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:09.931Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","start_line":8145,"text":"CHAPTER LVIII.\r\nThey Visit The Extreme South Of Vivenza\r\n\r\n\r\nWe penetrated further and further into the valleys around; but, though,\r\nas elsewhere, at times we heard whisperings that promised an end to our\r\nwanderings;—we still wandered on; and once again, even Yoomy abated his\r\nsanguine hopes.\r\n\r\nAnd now, we prepared to embark for the extreme south of the land.\r\n\r\nBut we were warned by the people, that in that portion of Vivenza,\r\nwhither we were going, much would be seen repulsive to strangers. Such\r\nthings, however, indulgent visitors overlooked. For themselves, they\r\nwere well aware of those evils. Northern Vivenza had done all it could\r\nto assuage them; but in vain; the inhabitants of those southern valleys\r\nwere a fiery, and intractable race; heeding neither expostulations, nor\r\nentreaties. They were wedded to their ways. Nay, they swore, that if\r\nthe northern tribes persisted in intermeddlings, they would dissolve\r\nthe common alliance, and establish a distinct confederacy among\r\nthemselves.\r\n\r\nOur coasting voyage at an end, our keels grated the beach among many\r\nprostrate palms, decaying, and washed by the billows. Though part and\r\nparcel of the shore we had left, this region seemed another land. Fewer\r\nthriving thingswere seen; fewer cheerful sounds were heard.\r\n\r\n“Here labor has lost his laugh!” cried Yoomy.\r\n\r\nIt was a great plain where we landed; and there, under a burning sun,\r\nhundreds of collared men were toiling in trenches, filled with the taro\r\nplant; a root most flourishing in that soil. Standing grimly over\r\nthese, were men unlike them; armed with long thongs, which descended\r\nupon the toilers, and made wounds. Blood and sweat mixed; and in great\r\ndrops, fell.\r\n\r\n“Who eat these plants thus nourished?” cried Yoomy. “Are these men?”\r\nasked Babbalanja.\r\n\r\n“Which mean you?” said Mohi.\r\n\r\nHeeding him not, Babbalanja advanced toward the fore-most of those with\r\nthe thongs,—one Nulli: a cadaverous, ghost-like man; with a low ridge\r\nof forehead; hair, steel-gray; and wondrous eyes;—bright, nimble, as\r\nthe twin Corposant balls, playing about the ends of ships’ royal-yards\r\nin gales.\r\n\r\nThe sun passed under a cloud; and Nulli, darting at Babbalanja those\r\nwondrous eyes, there fell upon him a baleful glare.\r\n\r\n“Have they souls?” he asked, pointing to the serfs.\r\n\r\n“No,” said Nulli, “their ancestors may have had; but their souls have\r\nbeen bred out of their descendants; as the instinct of scent is killed\r\nin pointers.”\r\n\r\nApproaching one of the serfs, Media took him by the hand, and felt of\r\nit long; and looked into his eyes; and placed his ear to his side; and\r\nexclaimed, “Surely this being has flesh that is warm; he has Oro in his\r\neye; and a heart in him that beats. I swear he is a man.”\r\n\r\n“Is this our lord the king?” cried Mohi, starting.\r\n\r\n“What art thou,” said Babbalanja to the serf. “Dost ever feel in thee a\r\nsense of right and wrong? Art ever glad or sad?—They tell us thou art\r\nnot a man:—speak, then, for thyself; say, whether thou beliest thy\r\nMaker.”\r\n\r\n“Speak not of my Maker to me. Under the lash, I believe my masters, and\r\naccount myself a brute; but in my dreams, bethink myself an angel. But\r\nI am bond; and my little ones;—their mother’s milk is gall.”\r\n\r\n“Just Oro!” cried Yoomy, “do no thunders roll,—no lightnings flash in\r\nthis accursed land!”\r\n\r\n“Asylum for all Mardi’s thralls!” cried Media.\r\n\r\n“Incendiaries!” cried he with the wondrous eyes, “come ye, firebrands,\r\nto light the flame of revolt? Know ye not, that here are many serfs,\r\nwho, incited to obtain their liberty, might wreak some dreadful\r\nvengeance? Avaunt, thou king! _thou_ horrified at this? Go back to Odo,\r\nand right her wrongs! These serfs are happier than thine; though thine,\r\nno collars wear; more happy as they are, than if free. Are they not\r\nfed, clothed, and cared for? Thy serfs pine for food: never yet did\r\nthese; who have no thoughts, no cares.”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJTP2P1B5NBRJY2DM0A6T","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKMFAPGYCTJ9ZRE7K6CKS","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:10.730Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:25.886Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}