CHAPTER XVIII
A VOYAGE OVER THE POLE
The discovery of our love had brought a crisis in our fate for me andAlmah. The Kohen hailed it with joy, for now was the time when hewould be able to present us to the Kohen Gadol. Our doom was certainand inevitable. We were to be taken to the amir; we were to be keptuntil the end of the dark season, and then we were both to be publiclysacrificed. After this our bodies were to be set apart for the hideousrites of the Mista Kosek. Such was the fate that lay before us.
The Kohen was now anxious to take us to the amir. I might possiblyhave persuaded him to postpone our departure, but I saw no use inthat. It seemed better to go, for it was possible that amid new scenesand among new people there might be hope. This, too, seemed probableto Almah, who was quite anxious to go. The Kohen pressed forward thepreparations, and at length a galley was ready for us.
This galley was about three hundred feet in length and fifty in width,but not more than six feet in depth. It was like a long raft. Therowers, two hundred in number, sat on a level with the water, onehundred on each side. The oars were small, being not more than twelvefeet in length, but made of very light, tough material, with verybroad blades. The galley was steered with broad-bladed paddles at bothends. There was no mast or sail. Astern was a light poop, surroundedby a pavilion, and forward there was another. At the bow there wasa projecting platform, used chiefly in fighting the thannin, orsea-monsters, and also in war. There were no masts or flags or gaystreamers; no brilliant colors; all was intensely black, and theornaments were of the same hue.
We were now treated with greater reverence than ever, for we werelooked upon as the recipients of the highest honor that could fall toany of the Kosekin--namely, the envied dignity of a public death. Aswe embarked the whole city lined the public ways, and watched us fromthe quays, from boats, and from other galleys. Songs were sung by achosen choir of paupers, and to the sound of this plaintive strain wemoved out to sea.
"This will be a great journey for me," said the Kohen, as we left theport. "I hope to be made a pauper at least, and perhaps gain the honorof a public death. I have known people who have gained death for less.There was an Athon last year who attacked a pehmet with forty menand one hundred and twenty rowers. All were killed or drowned excepthimself. In reward for this he gained the mudecheb, or deathrecompense. In addition to this he was set apart for the Mista Kosek."
"Then, with you, when a man procures the death of others he ishonored?"
"Why, yes; how could it be otherwise?" said the Kohen. "Is it not thesame with you? Have you not told me incredible things about yourpeople, among which there were a few that seemed natural andintelligible? Among these was your system of honoring above all menthose who procure the death of the largest number. You, with yourpretended fear of death, wish to meet it in battle as eagerly as wedo, and your most renowned men are those who have sent most to death."
To this strange remark I had no answer to make.
The air out at sea now grew chillier. The Kohen noticed it also, andoffered me his cloak, which I refused. He seemed surprised, andsmiled.
"You are growing like one of us," said he. "You will soon learn thatthe greatest happiness in life is to do good to others and sacrificeyourself. You already show this in part. When you are with Almah youact like one of the Kosekin. You watch her to see and anticipate herslightest wish; you are eager to give her everything. She, on theother hand, is equally eager to give up all to you. Each one of you iswilling to lay down life for the other. You would gladly rush upondeath to save her from harm, much as you pretend to fear death; and soI see that with Almah you will soon learn how sweet a thing death maybe."
"To live without her," said I, "would be so bitter that death with herwould indeed be sweet. If I could save her life by laying down my own,death would be sweeter still; and not one of you Kosekin would meet itso gladly."
The Kosekin smiled joyously.
"Oh, almighty and wondrous power of Love!" he exclaimed, "how thouhast transformed this foreigner! Oh, Atam-or! you will soon be one ofus altogether. For see, how is it now? You pretend to love riches andlife, and yet you are ready to give up everything for Almah."
"Gladly, gladly!" I exclaimed.
"Yes," he said, "all that you have--you would gladly lavish on her,and would rejoice to make yourself a pauper for her sweet sake. Youalso would rejoice equally to give up life for her. Is it not so?"
"It is," said I.
"Then I see by this that Almah has awakened within you your true humannature. Thus far it has lain dormant; it has been concealed under athousand false and unnatural habits, arising from your strange nativecustoms. You have been brought up under some frightful system, wherenature is violated. Here among us your true humanity is unfolded, andwith Almah you are like the Kosekin. Soon you will learn new lessons,and will find out that there is a new and a final self-abnegation inperfect love; and your love will never rest till you have separatedyourself from Almah, so that love can have its perfect work."
The sea now opened wide before us, rising up high as if half-way tothe zenith, giving the impression of a vast ascent to endlessdistances. Around the shores spread themselves, with the shadowyoutlines of the mountains; above was the sky, all clear, with faintaurora-flashes and gleaming stars. Hand-in-hand with Almah I stood andpointed out the constellations as we marked them while she told me ofthe different divisions known among the Kosekin as well as her ownpeople. There, high in the zenith, was the southern polar-star, notexactly at the pole, nor yet of very great brightness, but stillsufficiently noticeable.
Looking back, we saw, low down, parts of the Phoenix and the Crane;higher up, the Toucan, Hydrus, and Pavo. On our right, low down, wasthe beautiful Altar; higher up, the Triangle; while on the left werethe Sword-fish and the Flying-fish. Turning to look forward, we behelda more splendid display. Then, over the bow of the vessel, betweenthe Centaur, which lay low, and Musca Indica, which rose high, thereblazed the bright stars of the Southern Cross--a constellation, if notthe brightest, at least the most conspicuous and attractive in all theheavens. All around there burned other stars, separated widely. Then,over the stern, gleamed the splendid lustre of Achernar, on the leftthe brilliant glow of Alpha Robur and Canopus, and low down beforeus the bright light of Argo. It was a scene full of splendorand fascination. After a time a change came over the sky: theaurora-flashes, at first faint, gradually increased in brilliancy tillthe stars grew dim, and all the sky, wherever the eye might turn fromthe horizon to the zenith, seemed filled with lustrous flames of everyconceivable hue. Colossal beams radiated from the pole toward thehorizon till the central light was dissipated, and there remainedencircling us an infinite colonnade of flaming pillars that toweredto the stars. These were all in motion, running upon one another,incessantly shifting and changing; new scenes forever succeeded toold; pillars were transformed to pyramids, pyramids to fiery bars;these in their turn were transformed to other shapes, and all thewhile one tint of innumerable hues overspread the entire circle ofthe sky.
Our voyage occupied several joms; but our progress was continuous,for different sets of rowers relieved one another at regularintervals. On the second jom a storm broke out. The sky had beengathering clouds during sleeping-time, and when we awoke we found thesea all lashed to fury, while all around the darkness was intense. Thestorm grew steadily worse; the lightning flashed, the thunder pealed,and at length the sea was so heavy that rowing was impossible. Uponthis the oars were all taken in, and the galley lay tossing upon thefurious sea, amid waves that continually beat upon her.
And now a scene ensued that filled me with amazement, and tookaway all my thoughts from the storm. It seemed impossible that sofrail a bark could stand the fury of the waves. Destruction wasinevitable, and I was expecting to see the usual signs of griefand despair--wondering, too, how these rowers would preserve theirsubordination. But I had forgotten in my excitement the strangenature of the Kosekin. Instead of terror there was joy, instead ofwild despair t
here was peace and serene delight.
The lightning-flashes revealed a wonderful scene. There were all therowers, each one upon his seat, and from them all there came fortha chant which was full of triumph, like a song of public welcome tosome great national hero, or a song of joy over victory. The officersembraced one another and exchanged words of delight. The Kohen, afterembracing all the others, turned to me, and, forgetting my foreignways, exclaimed, in a tone of enthusiastic delight,
"We are destroyed! Death is near! Rejoice!"
Accustomed as I was to the perils of the sea, I had learned to facedeath without flinching. Almah, too, was calm, for to her this deathseemed preferable to that darker fate which awaited us; but the wordsof the Kohen jarred upon my feelings.
"Do you not intend to do anything to save the ship?" I asked.
He laughed joyously.
"There's no occasion," said he. "When the oars are taken in we alwaysbegin to rejoice. And why not? Death is near--it is almost certain.Why should we do anything to distract our minds and mar our joy? Foroh, dear friend, the glorious time has come when we can give uplife--life, with all its toils, its burdens, its endless bitternesses,its perpetual evils. Now we shall have no more suffering fromvexatious and oppressive riches, from troublesome honors, from asurplus of food, from luxuries and delicacies, and all the ills oflife."
"But what is the use of being born at all?" I asked, in a wonder thatnever ceased to rise at every fresh display of Kosekin feeling.
"The use?" said the Kohen. "Why, if we were not born, how could weknow the bliss of dying, or enjoy the sweetness of death? Death is theend of being--the one sweet hope and crown and glory of life, the onedesire and hope of every living man. The blessing is denied to none.Rejoice with me, oh Atam-or! you will soon know its blessedness aswell as I."
He turned away. I held Almah in my arms, and we watched the storm bythe lightning-flashes and waited for the end. But the end came not.The galley was light, broad, and buoyant as a life-boat; at the sametime it was so strongly constructed that there was scarcely any twistor contortion in the sinewy fabric. So we floated buoyantly and safelyupon the summit of vast waves, and a storm that would have destroyeda ship of the European fashion scarcely injured this in the slightestdegree. It was an indestructible as a raft and as buoyant as a bubble;so we rode out the gale, and the death which the Kosekin invoked didnot come at all.
The storm was but short-lived; the clouds dispersed, and soon wentscudding over the sky; the sea went down. The rowers had to take theiroars once more, and the reaction that followed upon their recentrejoicing was visible in universal gloom and dejection. As the cloudsdispersed the aurora lights came out more splendid than ever, andshowed nothing but melancholy faces. The rowers pulled with no life oranimation; the officers stood about sighing and lamenting; Almah and Iwere the only ones that rejoiced over this escape from death.
Joms passed. We saw other sights; we met with galleys and saw manyships about the sea. Some were moved by sails only; these weremerchant ships, but they had only square sails, and could not sail inany other way than before the wind. Once or twice I caught glimpsesof vast shadowy objects in the air. I was startled and terrified;for, great as were the wonders of this strange region, I had not yetsuspected that the air itself might have denizens as tremendous as theland or the sea. Yet so it was, and afterward during the voyage I sawthem often. One in particular was so near that I observed it withease. It came flying along in the same course with us, at a height ofabout fifty feet from the water. It was a frightful monster, with along body and vast wings like those a bat. Its progress was swift, andit soon passed out of sight. To Almah the monster created no surprise;she was familiar with them, and told me that they were very abundanthere, but that they never were known to attack ships. She informed methat they were capable of being tamed if caught when young, though inher country they were never made use of. The name given by the Kosekinto these monsters is athaleb.
At length we drew near to our destination. We reached a large harborat the end of a vast bay: here the mountains extended around, andbefore us there arose terrace after terrace of twinkling lightsrunning away to immense distances. It looked like a city of a millioninhabitants, though it may have contained far less than that. By thebrilliant aurora light I could see that it was in general shape andform precisely like the city that we had left, though far larger andmore populous. The harbor was full of ships and boats of all sorts,some lying at the stone quays, others leaving port, others entering.Galleys passed and repassed, and merchant ships with their clumsysails, and small fishing-boats. From afar arose the deep hum of a vastmultitude and the low roar that always ascends from a popular city.
The galley hauled alongside her wharf, and we found ourselves atlength in the mighty amir of the Kosekin. The Kohen alone landed;the rest remained on board, and Almah and I with them.
Other galleys were here. On the wharf workmen were moving about. Justbeyond were caverns that looked like warehouses. Above these was aterraced street, where a vast multitude moved to and fro--a livingtide as crowded and as busy as that in Cheapside.
After what seemed a long time the Kohen returned. This time he camewith a number of people, all of whom were in cars drawn by opkuks.Half were men and half women. These came aboard, and it seemed asthough we were to be separated; for the women took Almah, while themen took me. Upon this I entreated the Kohen not to separate us. Iinformed him that we were both of a different race from his, that wedid not understand their ways; we should be miserable if separated.
I spoke long and with all the entreaty possible to one with my limitedacquaintance with the language. My words evidently impressed them:some of them even wept.
"You make us sad," said the Kohen. "Willingly would we do everythingthat you bid, for we are your slaves; but the state law prevents.Still, in your case, the law will be modified; for you are in suchhonor here that you may be considered as beyond the laws. For thepresent, at least, we cannot separate you."
These words brought much consolation. After this we landed, and Almahand I were still together.