{"id":"01KG8AKRMJFC3V5Q3ZG179MZQR","cid":"bafkreia4shtox55rjcbiv6x25b3ygtjus3gan6vo4hij5ahd56qqqsp4pq","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":6019,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:09.927Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","start_line":5937,"text":"CHAPTER XLIII.\r\nThey Land At Dominora\r\n\r\n\r\nAs erewhile recounted, not being on the best terms in Mardi with the\r\nKing of Dominora, Media saw fit to draw nigh unto his dominions in\r\nhaughty state; he (Media) being upon excellent terms with himself. Our\r\nsails were set, our paddles paddling, streamers streaming, and Vee-Vee\r\nin the shark’s mouth, clamorous with his conch. The din was soon heard;\r\nand sweeping into a fine broad bay we beheld its margin seemingly\r\npebbled in the distance with heads; so populous the land.\r\n\r\nWinding through a noble valley, we presently came to Bello’s palace,\r\ncouchant and bristling in a grove. The upright canes composing its\r\nfront projected above the eaves in a long row of spear-heads fluttering\r\nwith scarlet pennons; while below, from the intervals of the canes,\r\nwere slantingly thrust three tiers of decorated lances. A warlike\r\naspect! The entire structure looking like the broadside of the\r\nMacedonian phalanx, advancing to the charge, helmeted with a roof.\r\n\r\n“Ah, Bello,” said Media, “thou dwellest among thy quills like the\r\nporcupine.”\r\n\r\n“I feel a prickly heat coming over me,” cried Mohi, “my lord Media, let\r\nus enter.”\r\n\r\n“Ay,” said Babbalanja, “safer the center of peril, than the\r\ncircumference.”\r\n\r\nPassing under an arch, formed by two pikes crossed, we found ourselves\r\ntargets in prospective, for certain flingers of javelins, with poised\r\nweapons, occupying the angles of the palace.\r\n\r\nFronting us, stood a portly old warrior, spear in hand, hump on back,\r\nand fire in eye.\r\n\r\n“Is it war?” he cried, pointing his pike, “or peace?” reversing it.\r\n\r\n“Peace,” said Media.\r\n\r\nWhereupon advancing, King Bello courteously welcomed us.\r\n\r\nHe was an arsenal to behold: Upon his head the hereditary crown of\r\nDominora,—a helmet of the sea-porcupine’s hide, bristling all over with\r\nspikes, in front displaying a river-horse’s horn, leveled to the\r\ncharge; thrust through his ears were barbed arrows; and from his dyed\r\nshark-skin girdle, depended a kilt of strung javelins.\r\n\r\nThe broad chest of Bello was the chart of Mardi. Tattooed in sea-blue\r\nwere all the groups and clusters of the Archipelago; and every time he\r\nbreathed, rose and fell the isles, as by a tide: Dominora full upon his\r\nheart.\r\n\r\nHis sturdy thighs were his triumphal arch; whereon in numerous\r\nmedallions, crests, and shields, were blazoned all his victories by sea\r\nand land.\r\n\r\nHis strong right arm was Dominora’s scroll of Fame, where all her\r\nheroes saw their names recorded.—An endless roll!\r\n\r\nOur chronicler avouched, that on the sole of Bello’s dexter foot was\r\nstamped the crest of Franko’s king, his hereditary foe. “Thus, thus,”\r\ncried Bello, stamping, “thus I hourly crush him.”\r\n\r\nIn stature, Bello was a mountaineer; but, as over some tall tower\r\nimpends the hill-side cliff, so Bello’s Athos hump hung over him. Could\r\nit be, as many of his nobles held, that the old monarch’s hump was his\r\nsensorium and source of strength; full of nerves, muscles, ganglions\r\nand tendons? Yet, year by year it grew, ringed like the bole of his\r\npalms. The toils of war increased it. But another skirmish with the\r\nisles, said the wiseacres of Porpheero, and Bello’s mount will crush\r\nhim.\r\n\r\nAgainst which calamity to guard, his medicos and Sangredos sought the\r\nhump’s reduction. But down it would not come. Then by divers mystic\r\nrites, his magi tried. Making a deep pit, many teeth they dropped\r\ntherein. But they could not fill it. Hence, they called it the Sinking\r\nPit, for bottom it had none. Nevertheless, the magi said, when this pit\r\nis filled, Bello’s hump you’ll see no more. “Then, hurrah for the\r\nhump!” cried the nobles, “for he will never hurl it off. Long life to\r\nthe hump! By the hump we will rally and die! Cheer up, King Bello!\r\nStand up, old king!”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJSXWRT5R9RB80N1FK4HY","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKRMVVAABZTZBCY2R2T6B","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:14.994Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:23.851Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}