The Adventures of Captain Mago. Cahun David-Léon. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Cahun David-Léon
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one word in reply, the eunuch handed me a box of sandal-wood, which I opened, and found it to contain several sheets of papyrus, on which were written various instructions to myself.

      I was about to give orders to my trumpeter to proclaim silence, but before the words were out of my mouth, Bodmilcar rushed forward and threw himself into my arms.

      "I have been sacrificing to Melkarth," he exclaimed; "I have paid my vows to my god, and I must unburden my conscience. I wish to ask pardon of any and of all to whom I have shown insolence or ill-temper."

      Without hesitation, Hanno offered him his hand, assuring him that he fully forgave everything that had happened in the past, and that, forgetting all previous quarrels, for the future he would show him all proper deference, and yield to his authority. Pleased with this open reconciliation, I expressed my satisfaction that we were able thus to set out with so universal a spirit of harmony and of concord.

      In the meanwhile the captains had severally collected their crews, and Hannibal had told off his men-at-arms, reserving ten archers and ten soldiers for our own ship. The priestess then, with the accustomed solemnities, presented each vessel with the image of its own peculiar divinity.

      Before we started, our host, with whom we had been sojourning, accompanied by his wife and son, forced his way through the guards that had been keeping the inclosure, and came in haste to me.

      "Mago, dear friend," he said, "I could not suffer you to go without seeing you once more. Here are cakes, and here is a basket of dried grapes; but, most of all, here are two goat-skins of genuine nectar. Accept them from me in token of my good-will. Farewell, and the gods grant you a prosperous voyage!"

      "Farewell, honest pilot," said my host's wife to Himilco; "for you I have brought this goat-skin of Byblos, because I know there is no wine you like so well."

      "Thanks, good hostess, many thanks," replied Himilco; "to me there is no wine that can compare with the rich and luxurious produce of Phœnicia. I shall not forget your bounty, and if only our star shall favour us, and the Cabiros shall safely bring us home again, I promise to bring you such a gift as shall make the Tyrian women die with envy."

      The son, a youth of about sixteen, was devotedly attached to Hanno, and only with the greatest difficulty could be dissuaded from accompanying him upon his voyage. As a farewell gift, he had brought his friend a large packet of the choicest reeds for writing; and the two parted with mutual expressions of affection.

      Amongst those present there was yet another whom I regarded with the profoundest reverence, and whose knowledge was accounted as little short of divine. This was an aged priest, named Sanchoniathon,27 the historian and chronicler of past events; although no traveller himself, he had acquired the fullest information concerning well-nigh every country of the world.

      Addressing himself to me, he said: "Mago, my son, Hanno your scribe has undertaken to transmit to me, in writing, an account of whatever he may see rare or wonderful in the far-off lands to which you go; his genius seems bright and quick, but his youth renders him wild and unstable as a kid. Is it too much to ask of you that you will urge him on to keep his word?"

      "To gratify you, my father," said Hanno, "I will do all I can to control the caprices and irregularities of my youth. My own indebtedness to you is great. I trust that I may not forget the lessons you have taught me; and if I can render any aid in enabling you to keep the Phœnicians informed of the wonders of the world, I shall be ready to show myself a pupil worthy of my master."

      The aged Sanchoniathon then gave us his blessing. He had scarcely concluded his benediction when the priestess of Ashtoreth came by, returning from the ships. As she passed Hanno I distinctly heard her say in an undertone:

      "She is as good as she is beautiful!"

      "Hush!" he murmured; "I must forget her! Happy Pharaoh!"

      Everything being reported ready, I ordered the trumpeters to sound the signal for departure, and we proceeded to embark. The first man to step on board was old Gisgo, the pilot of the Cabiros, commonly known as Gisgo the Celt, and perhaps still more frequently spoken of as Gisgo the Earless. He had been eight times on a voyage to the Rhone, and the story went that on one of his visits there he had married a Celtic wife, with yellow hair, who was still awaiting him in her native forests; on another occasion he had been taken prisoner by the Siculians, who had cut off both his ears. Having mounted the poop, the old man waved his cap and shouted cheerily:

      "Mariners, mariners all! quick and ready! quick on board! rulers of the ocean! sons of Ashtoreth! listen to your captain's call. Tyrians and Sidonians! To sea! to sea! and long live Captain Mago!"

      The men all hastened to their several ships, and as soon as I had taken my station on the raised bench of the poop of the Ashtoreth, my standard was hoisted as the signal of departure, the gangways were removed, the boathooks were driven vigorously towards the facing of the quay, and we were on our way.

      The Cabiros, with its twenty-two oarsmen, took the lead; next came the Ashtoreth; the Dagon towed the Melkarth, which was too large to hoist a sail in port. Our little squadron floated on past the numerous ships that lined the quays, making its way through crowds of boats that darted to and fro, conveying the countless visitors to the island where the feast of Melkarth was still in course of celebration. Our trumpeters continued to blow, our oars rose and fell in regular cadence, and the voices of thousands of spectators kept up a perpetual acclamation.

      From my own position I could overlook the decks of all the other vessels. Hanno was at my side, and Himilco stood at the bow giving his orders to the helmsman. Hannibal had made his warriors hang their shields over the ship's sides; every one had betaken himself to his proper post, Hazael the eunuch being no exception, as he had retired to the privacy of his own cabin.

      Passing the mouth of the trade-harbour, with its two watch-towers, we entered the canal that led to the island; it was covered with boats decorated with holiday-trappings; above it rose the palace of the naval suffect, its terraces all decked with coloured hangings, and thronged with a motley crowd. Beyond again, in the centre of the island, I could see the dome of the temple of Melkarth, the blue smoke of the sacrifices rising high above its ochred roof. I could even hear the uproarious clanging of the cymbals and the other instruments within.

      The royal galley, escorted by the galley of the naval suffect, came forth to meet us. On the poop of the royal vessel was a raised platform, which shone as if it were a mass of solid metal, being covered entirely with cloth of gold and silver. The oars were faced with ivory; the sails were embroidered with silver thread, with representations of Melkarth, Moloch, and Ashtoreth, the large hyacinth-coloured sail in the middle being worked with green to imitate waves, from which rose the figure of Ashtoreth protecting the fish from the fury of Dagon. A full band of musicians was playing at the bows, and, on deck, a number of graceful women, wearing state tiaras and triple necklaces, performed upon gaily painted tambourines, and waved light rods adorned with little bells and tassels of pale green and purple. At the stern sat King Hiram. He wore a Phœnician cap, his beard was frizzled in the Syrian fashion, and he had two gold bracelets on each arm. His throne was of gold and enamel; the back of it was carved into the image of a ship, and the arms were representations of dolphins. In attendance, standing with folded arms, were his scribe and the keeper of the seals; behind him stood two officers, one of them holding the purple canopy of state, fringed with gold, the other carrying the royal standard, which bore, worked in silver on a hyacinth-coloured ground, representations of the sun and the planets, with the crescent moon above. The suffects were on board the Admiralty galley, surrounded by guards in Lydian helmets, whose silver shields and cuirasses glittered brightly in the sun.

      At sight of the royal cortége I ordered my men to ship their oars and to bring our vessels to a standstill. A corresponding order was given to the royal ships, and it was but the work of a few minutes for the slaves to throw the ebony gangway across, and to cover it with a brilliant carpet. King Hiram rose from his seat and stepped on board, and I had the honour of conducting him all over my vessel, and of showing him the double deck, the stowage of the cargo, and the great earthen reservoirs of water. He went, unaccompanied, to visit the berth that had been provided for the slave, and before


<p>27</p>

I am guilty of an anachronism here for the mere satisfaction of introducing the name of the great historian.