CHAPTER ELEVEN
MIDNIGHT REFLECTIONS — MORNING VISITORS — A WARRIOR IN COSTUME—A SAVAGE AESCULAPIUS—PRACTICE OF THE HEALING ART—BODY SERVANT—A DWELLING-HOUSE OF THE VALLEY DESCRIBED—PORTRAITS OF ITS INMATES
VARIOUS and conflicting were the thoughts which oppressed me during the silent hours that followed the events related in the preceding chapter. Toby, wearied with the fatigues of the day, slumbered heavily by my side; but the pain under which I was suffering effectually prevented my sleeping, and I remained distressingly alive to all the fearful circumstances of our present situation. Was it possible that, after all our vicissitudes, we were really in the terrible valley of Typee, and at the mercy of its inmates, a fierce and unrelenting tribe of savages? Typee or Happar? I shuddered w
