the Typees, or his half-hearted allies would abandon him
and join his foes, giving him endless trouble, and putting a stop to
the refitting of the ships in Massachusetts Bay. He now understood the
power of his foes, and accordingly chose two hundred men to go with
him on the second expedition. He also determined to leave behind the
friendly savages, whose friendship was a very doubtful quality. The
forces left the beach that very night, and began their weary march up
the mountain-side. It was bright moonlight; so that the narrow
mountain paths, the fearful precipices, the tangled jungles, and the
swamps and rivers were visible to the marching column. By midnight the
Americans found themselves perched on the summit of a rocky peak
overlooking the Typee valley, from which arose sounds of drum-beating,
singing, and loud shouts of revelry. The guides who had led the
American column said that the savages were rejoicing over their
triumph, and were calling upon their gods to send rain and spoil the
"Malleekees' _bouhies_." Porter knew the time was ripe for a surprise,
and the men were eager to be led against the enemy; but the guides
protested that no mortal men could descend the path leading to the
Typee village, at night, so precipitous was the descent. The Americans
were therefore forced to wait patiently until morning. Throwing
themselves on the ground, the weary sailors were soon asleep, but were
waked up in an hour by a heavy burst of rain. They saw the rain
falling in sheets, and the sky banked with black clouds that gave
little hope of a stoppage. From the valley below rose the triumphant
yells of the Typees, who were convinced that their gods had sent the
shower to spoil the white men's weapons. And, indeed, the floods
poured down as though sent for that very service; so that at daybreak
the Americans found that more than half their powder was spoiled. To
make matters worse, the precipitous path leading down into the valley
was so slippery that it would have been madness to attempt the
descent. Accordingly Porter determined to retreat to the Happah
village, and there wait for better weather. Before falling back,
however, he ordered a volley fired, to show the savages that the
fire-arms were not yet useless. The noise of the volley was the first
intimation to the Typees that the Americans were so near them, and
their village was at once thrown into the direst confusion. Cries of
surprise mingled with the beating of dr