contradict me.
Not so; these apparent discrepancies are easily reconciled. By many a
legendary tale of violence and wrong, as well as by events which have
passed before their eyes, these people have been taught to look upon
white men with abhorrence. The cruel invasion of their country by Porter
has alone furnished them with ample provocation; and I can sympathize
in the spirit which prompts the Typee warrior to guard all the passes to
his valley with the point of his levelled spear, and, standing upon
the beach, with his back turned upon his green home, to hold at bay the
intruding European.

As to the origin of the enmity of this particular clan towards the
neighbouring tribes, I cannot so confidently speak. I will not say that
their foes are the aggressors, nor will I endeavour to palliate their
conduct. But surely, if our evil passions must find vent, it is far
better to expend them on strangers and aliens, than in the bosom of
the community in which we dwell. In many polished countries civil
contentions, as well as domestic enmities, are prevalent, and the same
time that the most atrocious foreign wars are waged. How much less
guilty, then, are our islanders, who of these three sins are only
chargeable with one, and that the least criminal!

The reader will ere long have reason to suspect that the Typees are not
free from the guilt of cannibalism; and he will then, perhaps, charge me
with admiring a people against whom so odious a crime is chargeable. But
this only enormity in their character is not half so horrible as it
is usually described. According to the popular fictions, the crews of
vessels, shipwrecked on some barbarous coast, are eaten alive like so
many dainty joints by the uncivil inhabitants; and unfortunate voyagers
are lured into smiling and treacherous bays; knocked on the head with
outlandish war-clubs; and served up without any prelimary dressing. In
truth, so horrific and improbable are these accounts, that many sensible
and well-informed people will not believe that any cannibals exist; and
place every book of voyages which purports to give any account of them,
on the same shelf with Blue Beard and Jack the Giant-Killer. While
others, implicitly crediting the most extravagant fictions, firmly
believe that there are people in the world with tastes so depraved that
they would infinitely prefer a single mouthful of material humanity to
a good dinner of roast beef and plum pudding. But here, Truth