The White Ship
I am Basil Elton, keeper of the North Point light that my father andgrandfather kept before me. Far from the shore stands the gray lighthouse, abovesunken slimy rocks that are seen when the tide is low, but unseen when the tideis high. Past that beacon for a century have swept the majestic barques of theseven seas. In the days of my grandfather there were many; in the days of myfather not so many; and now there are so few that I sometimes feel strangelyalone, as though I were the last man on our planet.From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old; from far Easternshores where warm suns shine and sweet odors linger about strange gardens andgay temples. The old captains of the sea came often to my grandfather and toldhim of these things which in turn he told to my father, and my father told to mein the long autumn evenings when the wind howled eerily from the East. And Ihave read more of these things, and of many things besides, in the books mengave me when I was young and filled with wonder.But more wonderful than the lore of old men and the lore of books is thesecret lore of ocean. Blue, green, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, ormountainous; that ocean is not silent. All my days have I watched it andlistened to it, and I know it well. At first it told to me only the plain littletales of calm beaches and near ports, but with the years it grew more friendlyand spoke of other things; of things more strange and more distant in space andtime. Sometimes at twilight the gray vapors of the horizon have parted to grantme glimpses of the ways beyond; and sometimes at night the deep waters of thesea have grown clear and phosphorescent, to grant me glimpses of the waysbeneath. And these glimpses have been as often of the ways that were and theways that might be, as of the ways that are; for ocean is more ancient than themountains, and freighted with the memories and the dreams of Time.Out of the South it was that the White Ship used to come when the moon wasfull and high in the heavens. Out of the South it would glide very smoothly andsilently over the sea. And whether the sea was rough or calm, and whether thewind was friendly or adverse, it would always glide smoothly and silently, itssails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. One nightI espied upon the deck a man, bearded and robed, and he seemed to beckon me toembark for far unknown shores. Many times afterward I saw him under the fullmoon, and never did he beckon me.Very brightly did the moon shine on the night I answered the call, and Iwalked out over the waters to the White Ship on a bridge of moonbeams. The manwho had beckoned now spoke a welcome to me in a soft language I seemed to knowwell, and the hours were filled with soft songs of the oarsmen as we glided awayinto a mysterious South, golden with the glow of that full, mellow moon.And when the day dawned, rosy and effulgent, I beheld the green shore offar lands, bright and beautiful, and to me unknown. Up from the sea rose lordlyterraces of verdure, tree-studded, and shewing here and there the gleaming whiteroofs and colonnades of strange temples. As we drew nearer the green shore thebearded man told me of that land, the land of Zar, where dwell all the dreamsand thoughts of beauty that come to men once and then are forgotten. And when Ilooked upon the terraces again I saw that what he said was true, for among thesights before me were many things I had once seen through the mists beyond thehorizon and in the phosphorescent depths of ocean. There too were forms andfantasies more splendid than any I had ever known; the visions of young poetswho died in want before the world could learn of what they had seen and dreamed.But we did not set foot upon the sloping meadows of Zar, for it is told that hewho treads them may nevermore return to his native shore.As the White Ship sailed silently away from the templed terraces of Zar,we beheld on the distant horizon ahead the spires of a mighty city; and thebearded man said to me, This is Thalarion, the City of a Thousand Wonders,wherein reside all those mysteries that man has striven in vain to fathom. AndI looked again, at closer range, and saw that the city was greater than any cityI had known or dreamed of before. Into the sky the spires of its templesreached, so that no man might behold their peaks; and far back beyond thehorizon stretched the grim, gray walls, over which one might spy only a fewroofs, weird and ominous, yet adorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures.I yearned mightily to enter this fascinating yet repellent city, and besoughtthe bearded man to land me at the stone pier by the huge carven gate Akariel;but he gently denied my wish, saying, Into Thalarion, the City of a ThousandWonders, many have passed but none returned. Therein walk only daemons and madthings that are no longer men, and the streets are white with the unburied bonesof those who have looked upon the eidolon Lathi, that reigns over the city. Sothe White Ship sailed on past the walls of Thalarion, and followed for many daysa southward-flying bird, whose glossy plumage matched the sky out of which ithad appeared.Then came we to a pleasant coast gay with blossoms of every hue, where asfar inland as we could see basked lovely groves and radiant arbors beneath ameridian sun. From bowers beyond our view came bursts of song and snatches oflyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I urged therowers onward in my eagerness to reach the scene. And the bearded man spoke noword, but watched me as we approached the lily-lined shore. Suddenly a windblowing from over the flowery meadows and leafy woods brought a scent at which Itrembled. The wind grew stronger, and the air was filled with the lethal,charnel odor of plague-stricken towns and uncovered cemeteries. And as we sailedmadly away from that damnable coast the bearded man spoke at last, saying, "Thisis Xura, the Land of Pleasures Unattained.So once more the White Ship followed the bird of heaven, over warm blessedseas fanned by caressing, aromatic breezes. Day after day and night after nightdid we sail, and when the moon was full we would listen to soft songs of theoarsmen, sweet as on that distant night when we sailed away from my far nativeland. And it was by moonlight that we anchored at last in the harbor of Sona-Nyl, which is guarded by twin headlands of crystal that rise from the sea andmeet in a resplendent arch. This is the Land of Fancy, and we walked to theverdant shore upon a golden bridge of moonbeams.In the Land of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neither sufferingnor death; and there I dwelt for many aeons. Green are the groves and pastures,bright and fragrant the flowers, blue and musical the streams, clear and coolthe fountains, and stately and gorgeous the temples, castles, and cities ofSona-Nyl. Of that land there is no bound, for beyond each vista of beauty risesanother more beautiful. Over the countryside and amidst the splendor of citiescan move at will the happy folk, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace andunalloyed happiness. For the aeons that I dwelt there I wandered blissfullythrough gardens where quaint pagodas peep from pleasing clumps of bushes, andwhere the white walks are bordered with delicate blossoms. I climbed gentlehills from whose summits I could see entrancing panoramas of loveliness, withsteepled towns nestling in verdant valleys, and with the golden domes ofgigantic cities glittering on the infinitely distant horizon. And I viewed bymoonlight the sparkling sea, the crystal headlands, and the placid harborwherein lay anchored the White Ship.It was against the full moon one night in the immemorial year of Tharpthat I saw outlined the beckoning form of the celestial bird, and felt the firststirrings of unrest. Then I spoke with the bearded man, and told him of my newyearnings to depart for remote Cathuria, which no man hath seen, but which allbelieve to lie beyond the basalt pillars of the West. It is the Land of Hope,and in it shine the perfect ideals of all that we know elsewhere; or at least somen relate. But the bearded man said to me, Beware of those perilous seaswherein men say Cathuria lies. In Sona-Nyl there is no pain or death, but whocan tell what lies beyond the basalt pillars of the West? Natheless at the nextfull moon I boarded the White Ship, and with the reluctant bearded man left thehappy harbor for untraveled seas.And the bird of heaven flew before, and led us toward the basalt pillarsof the West, but this time the oarsmen sang no soft songs under the full moon.In my mind I would often picture the unknown Land of Cathuria with its splendidgroves and palaces, and would wonder what new delights there awaited me.Cathuria, I would say to myself, is the abode of gods and the land ofunnumbered cities of gold. Its forests are of aloe and sandalwood, even as thefragrant groves of Camorin, and among the trees flutter gay birds sweet withsong. On the green and flowery mountains of Cathuria stand temples of pinkmarble, rich with carven and painted glories, and having in their courtyardscool fountains of silver, where purr with ravishing music the scented watersthat come from the grotto-born river Narg. And the cities of Cathuria arecinctured with golden walls, and their pavements also are of gold. In thegardens of these cities are strange orchids, and perfumed lakes whose beds areof coral and amber. At night the streets and the gardens are lit with gaylanthorns fashioned from the three-colored shell of the tortoise, and hereresound the soft notes of the singer and the lutanist. And the houses of thecities of Cathuria are all palaces, each built over a fragrant canal bearing thewaters of the sacred Narg. Of marble and porphyry are the houses, and roofedwith glittering gold that reflects the rays of the sun and enhances the splendorof the cities as blissful gods view them from the distant peaks. Fairest of allis the palace of the great monarch Dorieb, whom some say to be a demi-god andothers a god. High is the palace of Dorieb, and many are the turrets of marbleupon its walls. In its wide halls many multitudes assemble, and here hang thetrophies of the ages. And the roof is of pure gold, set upon tall pillars ofruby and azure, and having such carven figures of gods and heroes that he wholooks up to those heights seems to gaze upon the living Olympus. And the floorof the palace is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of theNarg, gay with gaudy fish not known beyond the bounds of lovely Cathuria.Thus would I speak to myself of Cathuria, but ever would the bearded manwarn me to turn back to the happy shore of Sona-Nyl; for Sona-Nyl is known ofmen, while none hath ever beheld Cathuria.And on the thirty-first day that we followed the bird, we beheld thebasalt pillars of the West. Shrouded in mist they were, so that no man mightpeer beyond them or see their summits -- which indeed some say reach even to theheavens. And the bearded man again implored me to turn back, but I heeded himnot; for from the mists beyond the basalt pillars I fancied there came the notesof singers and lutanists; sweeter than the sweetest songs of Sona-Nyl, andsounding mine own praises; the praises of me, who had voyaged far from the fullmoon and dwelt in the Land of Fancy. So to the sound of melody the White Shipsailed into the mist betwixt the basalt pillars of the West. And when the musicceased and the mist lifted, we beheld not the Land of Cathuria, but a swift-rushing resistless sea, over which our helpless barque was borne toward someunknown goal. Soon to our ears came the distant thunder of falling waters, andto our eyes appeared on the far horizon ahead the titanic spray of a monstrouscataract, wherein the oceans of the world drop down to abysmal nothingness. Thendid the bearded man say to me, with tears on his cheek, "We have rejected thebeautiful Land of Sona-Nyl, which we may never behold again. The gods aregreater than men, and they have conquered." And I closed my eyes before thecrash that I knew would come, shutting out the sight of the celestial bird whichflapped its mocking blue wings over the brink of the torrent.Out of that crash came darkness, and I heard the shrieking of men and ofthings which were not men. From the East tempestuous winds arose, and chilled meas I crouched on the slab of damp stone which had risen beneath my feet. Then asI heard another crash I opened my eyes and beheld myself upon the platform ofthat lighthouse whence I had sailed so many aeons ago. In the darkness belowthere loomed the vast blurred outlines of a vessel breaking up on the cruelrocks, and as I glanced out over the waste I saw that the light had failed forthe first time since my grandfather had assumed its care.And in the later watches of the night, when I went within the tower, I sawon the wall a calendar which still remained as when I had left it at the hour Isailed away. With the dawn I descended the tower and looked for wreckage uponthe rocks, but what I found was only this: a strange dead bird whose hue was asof the azure sky, and a single shattered spar, of a whiteness greater than thatof the wave-tips or of the mountain snow.And thereafter the ocean told me its secrets no more; and though manytimes since has the moon shone full and high in the heavens, the White Ship fromthe South came never again.
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