{"id":"01KG8AM7A38DBB7H57C4T2D3CK","cid":"bafkreibu7x63nhz7jkwbd3pwdviv3xmowtc4cmmjybpeevtar4nktjtkfe","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":9323,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:25.203Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 5","source_file":"01KG89J1JYRSHWXR7JM0HYS9D4","start_line":9275,"text":"ground, receiving the plaudits of their parents beneath, who clapped\r\ntheir hands, and encouraged them to mount still higher.\r\n\r\nWhat, thought I, on first witnessing one of these exhibitions, would\r\nthe nervous mothers of America and England say to a similar display of\r\nhardihood in any of their children? The Lacedemonian nation might have\r\napproved of it, but most modern dames would have gone into hysterics at\r\nthe sight.\r\n\r\nAt the top of the cocoanut tree the numerous branches, radiating on\r\nall sides from a common centre, form a sort of green and waving\r\nbasket, between the leaflets of which you just discern the nuts thickly\r\nclustering together, and on the loftier trees looking no bigger from\r\nthe ground than bunches of grapes. I remember one adventurous little\r\nfellow--Too-Too was the rascal’s name--who had built himself a sort of\r\naerial baby-house in the picturesque tuft of a tree adjoining Marheyo’s\r\nhabitation. He used to spend hours there,--rustling among the branches,\r\nand shouting with delight every time the strong gusts of wind rushing\r\ndown from the mountain side, swayed to and fro the tall and flexible\r\ncolumn on which he was perched. Whenever I heard Too-Too’s musical voice\r\nsounding strangely to the ear from so great a height, and beheld him\r\npeeping down upon me from out his leafy covert, he always recalled to my\r\nmind Dibdin’s lines--\r\n\r\n    ‘There’s a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft,\r\n     To look out for the life of poor Jack.’\r\n\r\nBirds--bright and beautiful birds--fly over the valley of Typee. You\r\nsee them perched aloft among the immovable boughs of the majestic\r\nbread-fruit trees, or gently swaying on the elastic branches of the\r\nOmoo; skimming over the palmetto thatching of the bamboo huts; passing\r\nlike spirits on the wing through the shadows of the grove, and sometimes\r\ndescending into the bosom of the valley in gleaming flights from the\r\nmountains. Their plumage is purple and azure, crimson and white, black\r\nand gold; with bills of every tint: bright bloody red, jet black, and\r\nivory white, and their eyes are bright and sparkling; they go sailing\r\nthrough the air in starry throngs; but, alas! the spell of dumbness is\r\nupon them all--there is not a single warbler in the valley!\r\n\r\nI know not why it was, but the sight of these birds, generally the\r\nministers of gladness, always oppressed me with melancholy. As in their\r\ndumb beauty they hovered by me whilst I was walking, or looked down upon\r\nme with steady curious eyes from out the foliage, I was almost inclined\r\nto fancy that they knew they were gazing upon a stranger, and that they\r\ncommiserated his fate.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 5"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJRVDQACFD93TNSK7H6EN","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1JYRSHWXR7JM0HYS9D4","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AM7A18YRNHJQFHSPP56NA","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:30.019Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:42.599Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}