{"id":"01KG8AKVMSRVPV1R68SHRSYYCK","cid":"bafkreibrko3gxmtgsfp5cmr5g2k2ctohfkuv3sj5ete2hip5iikyktsn2m","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":12735,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:09.931Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","start_line":12652,"text":"CHAPTER LXXXVIII.\r\nThey Land\r\n\r\n\r\nA jeweled tiara, nodding in spray, looks flowery Flozella, approached\r\nfrom the sea. For, lo you! the glittering foam all round its white\r\nmarge; where, forcing themselves underneath the coral ledge, and up\r\nthrough its crevices, in fountains, the blue billows gush. While,\r\nwithin, zone above zone, thrice zoned in belts of bloom, all the isle,\r\nas a hanging-garden soars; its tapering cone blending aloft, with\r\nheaven’s own blue.\r\n\r\n“What flies through the spray! what incense is this?” cried Media.\r\n\r\n“Ha! you wild breeze! you have been plundering the gardens of Hautia,”\r\ncried Yoomy.\r\n\r\n“No sweets can be sweeter,” said Braid-Beard, “but no Upas more\r\ndeadly.”\r\n\r\nAnon we came nearer; sails idly flapping, and paddles suspended; sleek\r\ncurrents our coursers. And round about the isle, like winged rainbows,\r\nshoals of dolphins were leaping over floating fragments of wrecks:—\r\ndark-green, long-haired ribs, and keels of canoes. For many shallops,\r\ninveigled by the eddies, were oft dashed to pieces against that flowery\r\nstrand. But what cared the dolphins? Mardian wrecks were their homes.\r\nOver and over they sprang: from east to west: rising and setting: many\r\nsuns in a moment; while all the sea, like a harvest plain, was stacked\r\nwith their glittering sheaves of spray.\r\n\r\nAnd far down, fathoms on fathoms, flitted rainbow hues:—as seines- full\r\nof mermaids; half-screening the bones of the drowned.\r\n\r\nSwifter and swifter the currents now ran; till with a shock, our prows\r\nwere beached.\r\n\r\nThere, beneath an arch of spray, three dark-eyed maidens stood;\r\ngarlanded with columbines, their nectaries nodding like jesters’ bells;\r\nand robed in vestments blue.\r\n\r\n“The pilot-fish transformed!” cried Yoomy.\r\n\r\n“The night-eyed heralds three!” said Mohi.\r\n\r\nFollowing the maidens, we now took our way along a winding vale; where,\r\nby sweet-scented hedges, flowed blue-braided brooks; their tributaries,\r\nrivulets of violets, meandering through the meads.\r\n\r\nOn one hand, forever glowed the rosy mountains with a tropic dawn; and\r\non the other; lay an Arctic eve;—the white daisies drifted in long\r\nbanks of snow, and snowed the blossoms from the orange boughs. There,\r\nsummer breathed her bridal bloom; her hill-top temples crowned with\r\nbridal wreaths.\r\n\r\nWe wandered on, through orchards arched in long arcades, that seemed\r\nbaronial halls, hung o’er with trophies:—so spread the boughs in\r\nantlers. This orchard was the frontlet of the isle.\r\n\r\nThe fruit hung high in air, that only beaks, not hands, might pluck.\r\n\r\nHere, the peach tree showed her thousand cheeks of down, kissed often\r\nby the wooing winds; here, in swarms; the yellow apples hived, like\r\ngolden bees upon the boughs; here, from the kneeling, fainting trees,\r\nthick fell the cherries, in great drops of blood; and here, the\r\npomegranate, with cold rind and sere, deep pierced by bills of birds\r\nrevealed the mellow of its ruddy core. So, oft the heart, that cold and\r\nwithered seems, within yet hides its juices.\r\n\r\nThis orchard passed, the vale became a lengthening plain, that seemed\r\nthe Straits of Ormus bared so thick it lay with flowery gems:\r\ntorquoise-hyacinths, ruby-roses, lily-pearls. Here roved the vagrant\r\nvines; their flaxen ringlets curling over arbors, which laughed and\r\nshook their golden locks. From bower to bower, flew the wee bird, that\r\never hovering, seldom lights; and flights of gay canaries passed, like\r\njonquils, winged.\r\n\r\nBut now, from out half-hidden bowers of clematis, there issued swarms\r\nof wasps, which flying wide, settled on all the buds.\r\n\r\nAnd, fifty nymphs preceding, who now follows from those bowers, with\r\ngliding, artful steps:—the very snares of love!—Hautia. A gorgeous\r\namaryllis in her hand; Circe-flowers in her ears; her girdle tied with\r\nvervain.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJWKGS16QXQ9JFA9DQSK9","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKVMZ41YCT4A4HHWVDRBD","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:18.073Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:29.651Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}