Once upon a time a brave mariner, who had sailed the blue for many
years, married a captain’s daughter and went to live in a pleasant
inland country a long way from the sea. Now it came to pass that, as
the sailor and his wife dwelt in the inland vale, a sturdy son was born
to them whom they named Altair; and this little son grew to manhood
with a great longing in his heart to go companying with sailors and
sail upon the sea. Presently the old mariner called his son unto him
and said:--
“Dear son of mine, a sailor were you born and a sailor you shall be.
Go you forth to the ships, have your fill of a sailor’s life, and may
honor and fortune come to you upon the sea.”
So now the youth Altair bade his dear parents farewell and followed
the northern highway to a certain great city by the sea. Day after
day, as he walked, the soft blue skies and golden clouds of the inland
country vanished behind, a brightness and a faint glow of green
appeared in the arching heavens, and a cold northern wind shook each
sombre northern pine. Suddenly one morn the youth heard from afar the
endless thundering of breakers and, arriving on a sandy height, beheld
great seas tumbling in foam and white confusion on the shore. And thus
discovering the sea, something in the heart of Altair shouted and
leaped for joy.
To one side and below stood the towers and masts of the city; there
were sailors in her streets with brown faces, rich merchants in velvet
caps and gowns, brave pilots, and adventurers, and captains coming and
going to their ships.
After purchasing a stout jacket, a knitted cap, a blue sailor blouse,
and a pair of trousers belling out below, Altair set down his name in
the book of a great ship and sailed away upon the sea. Seven years
he sailed, now through nights of whispering seas and skies of silent
stars, now through storms and howling winds and waves blown white with
foam. Little by little the youth’s blue eyes took on the look of one
who sees afar, his body grew strong, and he walked as a sailor walks,
with feet apart and a roll from side to side. Seven years he sailed,
and then became a captain and master of a vessel of his own.
Now it came to pass that, as the blue-eyed captain returned from a long
and lonely passage to the Isles of Gold, he beheld a great multitude
of ships sailing together down the sea. Across his bow they sailed,
great ships stately as castles of oak, little ships that bobbed and
courtesied to every wave, ships with pennons, ships with banners, ships
of all rigs and colors in the world. And so great was the multitude of
ships that some had already crossed the rim of the sea ahead, whilst
the swaying spars of others rose faint and far behind.
In great wonderment as to what the gathering might portend, the young
captain hailed a passing ship and questioned a master mariner.
“These be the ships of all the world, Sir Captain,” answered the master
mariner, “and we sail to the land of the King of the South, for he hath
summoned us one and all. There is great news, they say, awaiting us at
journey’s end, but of what it may be none can tell. But come: up with
your helm, Sir Captain, and follow through the sea.”
Week after week, through weather fair and weather foul, Altair sailed
with the ships of the world to the Kingdom of the South. All at once,
one fine night between midnight and the morn, the men upon the masts of
the first three ships sent back a cry of land, and presently the great
blue light of the Kingdom of the South shone forth, far away and low
upon the sea. At sunrise the ships of the world, following one another
in line, sailed through rocky gates into the wide haven of the King.
The palace of the King was built upon a hilltop between blue mountains
and the sea, it was of golden marble made, and a winding marble
stair led from it to a pavilion and a landing on the bay. Rising in
solitary splendor above the ancient trees of the King’s garden, a great
belfry-tower soared to the rosy dawn which overhung the hilltop and the
town.
And now, in the hall of columns, stood gathered the captains of the
ships of all the world, great captains with plumes in their velvet
caps and jeweled swords at their sides, merchant captains in capes of
sober blue, and humble fisher-captains with knitted caps and blouses
gaily striped. Then came forth to them the King of the South, clad in a
scarlet robe and a crown of yellow gold, and said to them:--
“Captains of the ships of all the world, I give you greeting. You wait
to hear why I have called you from the seas. Hearken then to my word.
A belfry have I built, the fairest belfry which stands beneath the
sun, and I fain would lodge in it the fairest and noblest bell in all
the world. Find me this bell, O captains of the ships! Go ye to all
nations, and speed through all the seas.
“He who finds the bell shall be given a mighty treasure, and be crowned
with glory and honor.”
Thus having said, the King of the South led the captains of the ships
to a great feast which he had prepared for them, and there they made
merry till the closing of the day.
Now, when the sun had set and the city, the still harbor, and the ships
were bathed in a gentle golden light, Altair descended the winding
marble stair to the pavilion at which his ship’s boat lay awaiting
his return. Now it came to pass that, as the young captain approached
the end of the steps, he saw standing by a marble pillar there an
old bent fisher-wife with a young fisher-maiden at her side. And,
because it seemed to Altair that they were fain to speak to him, yet a
little afraid, the young captain paused at the pillar and asked the
fisherfolk if some misfortune had come upon them.
“Good Sir Captain,” replied the maid, “we are fisherfolk of the
Perilous Isles who would fain return to our homes again. In the
springtide of the year, while my mother and I were out amid the nets
in our little boat, a storm arose which swept us out to sea. For two
bitter days and nights we fled before the gale, but on the third morn a
great ship chanced to espy us and, rescuing us from the waves, brought
us to this realm. Long have we sought a way to return into our own
land. You find us here because of our hope that one of the ships of the
world might be sailing by the Isles. But though we have asked those who
passed before, there was never a one who could help us on our way.”
And the old fisher-wife shook her head slowly and sadly, whilst the
maid stood still and said no more. The golden light was fading now from
the city, the still harbor, and the ships. Even the belfry tower stood
dark, its empty bell-chamber outlined against the sky. Presently the
great blue light at the harbor mouth awoke in its stately tower, and a
sudden wind brought a little sound of waves on the distant outer shore.
“Be of good cheer, I will take you to the Isles,” said the young
captain. And, with stately courtesy, he put the fisherfolk in the boat
and went with them to his ship. Then was heard the sound of ropes and
blocks and the filling of sails, and presently the ship of Altair fled
away like a bird into the dark sea. Already there were lights here and
there on the dark waves, the lights of ships gone seeking the marvelous
bell.
At the end of a fortnight of favoring wind and fine weather, the ship
of Altair arrived by the Perilous Isles. Huge and high and dark were
the Isles, and weed-hung reefs encircled them and tossed fountains of
spray into the air.
Off the isle of the fishers, the kings of the world had prepared a
fairway--for so mariners call a passage--through the cruel rocks, and
at the entrance to this passage a warning bell sank and rose and nodded
and swung in the seas.
And now the fisher-maiden and her mother bade a grateful farewell to
the young captain Altair and were rowed ashore to the isle. The name of
the maiden, you must know, was Thyrza. Her eyes were gray, and her hair
a pretty ruddy-gold. And so fair she was and so honest and true her
gaze, that Altair thought he had never seen her like in all the world.
As for Thyrza, she stood long upon the shore, watching the ship of
Altair until it dwindled and disappeared at the edge of sea and sky.
* * * * *
North and south, through the seas of the world, went Altair in search
of the bell. To great cities of golden domes he sailed and found silver
bells, and brazen bells, and even bells of glass, but never a bell for
the belfry tower; by lonely shores he passed and saw the far surf
break in a border of white between the yellow sands and the ocean’s
sweeping green.
Now it fortuned that the boatswain of the vessel was an old mariner
who had sailed with Altair since the days of the young captain’s
apprenticeship at sea. And presently this boatswain came to Altair and
said to him:--
“Good master, in the isles of the east was I born, and in those isles
there runs a tale that somewhere, in the great sea flowing westward
down the world, lies an isle of bells. There is a city there, they say,
whose citizens take such joy in the ringing of bells that they will be
at it all day long; in the mountains of the isle are rare metals most
fit for noble bells, and there is a King there who is the bellman of
the world. It may be but an idle tale, but I tell it as ’twas told to
me.”
“East and north and unto the south have I sought the bell in vain,”
said Altair. “Into the seas of the west none have ever sailed. Come,
helmsman; about, about, and follow the setting sun; we shall seek this
hidden isle.”
Westward into the bright waves and the great glory of the sun sailed
Altair. Higher grew the waves, the sun-bright spray fell in showers
about the bow, and streams of marbly foam ran hissing at each side. A
thousand leagues upon a thousand leagues sailed the ship, and presently
there came a windless night of swaying ropes, still waters, and the
stars. And, while the ship glided ever so gently on into the night,
there was heard over the sea, faint and far, a golden sound of bells.
Now uttered the sailors a cry of joy which rang to the stars and
drowned the voices of the bells. And a wind arose, and the sails
filled, and when it was dawn the mountain isle of bells stood before
them, lonely as a ship in the wide circle of the sea.
Then to the city of bells they went, and found bells on every house and
tower, and people wearing bells on the borders of their gowns. All day
long great bells were ringing in their towers, chimes were pealing, and
clusters of little bells replying--tiny bells that sang like children
at their play.
Now it came to pass that, when the old, bearded King of the Bells heard
the tale of the brave voyage of Altair, his heart warmed to the sturdy
blue-eyed youth and he said to him:--
“Good Sir Captain, you shall have the bell you seek, the fairest and
noblest bell in all the world. To-day shall the metal be prepared and
melted in the furnace of the mountains, and to-morrow at high noon
shall the metal be poured into the mould of the bell.”
And now it was the high noon of the following day, and the King and his
people, together with Altair and his sailors, stood beside the fiery
pit in which the metal of the bell boiled in foam of green and red and
eddying copper-gold. Taking a golden cup filled with earth, the King
cast it into the pit, saying:--
“O bell, by this token I charge thee to remember the earth!
“The earth and her sweet sounds, the songs of birds, the rustle of
leaves, the murmur of brooks, the cry of the night wind, the majesty of
thunder: of these speak to the sons of men!”
And thus having spoken, the old King took a golden cup of water of the
sea, and cast it also into the molten pit, saying:--
“O bell, by this token I charge thee to remember the sea!
“The sea and her voices, the roaring of the mighty waves, the thin
whisperings of foam, the talk of ripples on the shore of sheltered
isles, the tumult of the gale: of these speak to the sons of men!”
And they poured the fiery metal into the earthy mould and left it to
grow cool. Seven days and seven nights sped by, and presently came
skilful men to cut the bell from the mould, and sculptors to carve upon
it flowers and trees and leaves and birds and waves and cockle shells.
And Altair thanked the old King with all his heart and, stowing the
bell in the hold of his ship, sailed away eastward and southward
through the sea.
Now it came to pass that, as the returning voyage drew to an end, the
young captain found his ship to be almost empty of victuals and drink;
so he hastened to the nearest port to see what he could buy. Now it
chanced that there lay in the same port another ship which was also
returning with a bell, a fine bell to be sure, but not one worthy to be
named with the bell of brave Altair. The name of the captain of this
other ship, you must know, was Kraken, and he was filled with curiosity
to see if the bell of Altair was a better than his own.
The ship of Altair lay at a wharf, and strong brown-faced men worked in
the hazy sun, rolling kegs of water to the deck and carrying bags of
meal down into the hold. Presently Kraken, sitting in the stern of a
red boat rowed by six of his sailors, came over to call upon Altair.
[Illustration: _And stowing the Bell of the Earth in the hold of his
ship, the young Captain sailed eastward and southward through the sea_]
And now Altair and Kraken stood in the dark hold of the ship, and
Altair held up a great light so that Kraken might see the wonderful
bell. And beholding the bell, how fair it was, Kraken said in his
secret heart:--
“If the Captain Altair shall return to the land of the South with this
wonderful bell, my bell will never win the treasure of the King. I must
find a way to destroy this captain and his bell!”
Turning to Altair he said, “Brother Captain, when do you sail away?”
“To-morrow at high noon,” replied Altair.
“At high noon?” said Kraken, his envious eyes suddenly lit with a
wicked thought. “You dare then to sail at night through the reefs of
the Perilous Isles?”
“My ship is fast,” replied Altair, “and I shall find the floating bell
of the fairway before the sun has set. Once I find it, what is there to
fear? The passage which it marks is deep and wide. And the Bell has a
brave clang.”
And now it was the next morn, and Kraken sailed early from the port.
All morning he sailed over a lonely gulf of the sea, and arrived at
noon before the Perilous Isles. It was a windy day, the hazy sky was
now open, now overcast, and here, there, and all about the reefs were
breaking white. Gulls barked and piped, and the shaggy weed-hung sides
of the nearer reefs rose and fell with the waves.
Presently Kraken caught sight of the floating bell which marked the
entrance to the fairway of the Isles.
The sea-bell had been made in the fiery mountain forges of the Kingdom
of Iron. Its round base was of iron, and a band of iron, chiseled about
with fish and shells and flowers of the sea, encircled its tossing
rim. The warning bell rose from the center of the shield, and two iron
figures, one of a giant, one of a dwarf, struck it with iron hammers
night and day.
And Kraken laughed and sent men to break the hammers from the hands
of the iron figures so that the bell should sound no more. And this
they did. But the dwarf and the giant continued to lift and lower their
empty hands.
Sailing through the fairway, Kraken continued on his course to the
Kingdom of the South, and was soon lost to view.
The wicked deed, however, had not passed unseen. Thyrza, the
fisher-maiden, had beheld all.
The long hours of the afternoon dragged to their close. Sunset was at
hand. Black clouds rose over the edge of the world, the sea darkened,
and the heavy waves grew black and streaked with foam. A wind began to
howl.
Suddenly Thyrza beheld the sails of a great ship fleeing before the
gale. The hidden sun had almost set, and the black clouds were barred
with rays as red as fire.
“’Tis the ship of Altair,” cried Thyrza. “The night is gathering fast,
and, unless he hears the bell in the dark, Altair will be wrecked upon
the reefs. I must row to the bell, if I can, and sound the warning
clang.”
And now the courageous maiden hastened to her little fishing boat and
rowed through the dark and the gathering storm to the soundless bell.
Long and hard she fought, and presently a great gust of the gale swept
her down against the bell. Great waves were breaking over it in bitter
spray, and it rolled and tossed and turned and plunged in the sea.
After tying her little boat to one of the figures, Thyrza took a round
stone, which she used as a weight for a net, and began to sound the
bell.
Nearer and nearer drew the ship of Altair. The fiery bars of the sunset
faded from the clouds; the wild night closed in upon the sea.
“Ding--Dong! Ding--Dong!” went the bell. And the wind howled in the
dark, and the waves thundered and broke as they fled. Suddenly Thyrza
saw the lights of Altair’s ship close at hand; the vessel was safely
entering the passageway.
So near she passed to the bell that Thyrza could almost have touched
her oaken side.
Now, when the lights of Altair’s vessel had vanished in the night,
Thyrza went to unloose her little boat and row ashore. Some fishers had
seen her on the bell and built a great bonfire on the beach to guide
her safely in. But suddenly the maid beheld the lights of a second
ship, searching for the fairway and the bell.
Weak and chilled though she was, Thyrza sounded the bell till this
vessel, too, had passed safely through the reefs. Much to the maiden’s
surprise, this second vessel came about and anchored in the little
fishing-harbor of the Isles!
Guided by the light of the fire, brave Thyrza safely made her way to
the shore.
As for Altair, he continued on to the Land of the South, and was given
the treasure and the crown of glory and honor for bringing the fairest
and noblest bell.
And the bell of the earth hung in the belfry-tower, and in the morning
and the evening spoke to men of the wonder and mystery of the earth and
the changing sea.
And now the brave young sailor had riches and honors like unto a king,
yet was he restless at heart, for he remembered the maiden Thyrza and
was fain to make her his wife. Returning again to the sea, he sought
the Perilous Isles, and hurried ashore to find the gray-eyed maid.
“You seek the maiden, Thyrza?” asked the fishers. “Alas! she is gone we
know not where. In the month of the low moon, two great ships passed at
nightfall through the fairway of the reefs; one ship continued over the
sea, and the other came to anchor in our bay. We fear that this ship
was perchance a pirate ship, for she sailed away at the break of dawn,
and since that hour Thyrza hath not been seen.”
And the fishers told Altair of how Thyrza had saved the ships by
striking upon the sea-bell; and Altair remembered the night of which
they spoke, and knew that Thyrza had saved him from the reefs.
East and west and north and south, along the shores of the world went
Altair in search of the maid. But never a one he found who could tell
him aught of her. A long year he sailed, and presently he came to the
Kingdom of the Moon.
Now it came to pass that, when he went to the palace to ask tidings
of Thyrza, attendants came and led him before the Queen who ruled the
land. And she was very young, and clad in a silver gown, a silver
crown, and a spreading robe of blue.
Strange to say, a heavy silver veil hid her face from all.
“Sir Captain,” said the Queen, when she had heard the story of Altair,
“you are wasting your days in quest of the fisher-maid. She is gone;
you will never see her more. Have done with this hopeless seeking, and
take service in my realm. Stay, and I shall make you the kingdom’s
admiral.”
But gallant and faithful Altair shook his head and answered, “No.” And
though the Queen twice and even thrice besought him to stay, he still
remained faithful to his quest.
Then laughed the Queen a little merry laugh, and tossed the veil aside.
And Altair beheld Thyrza on the throne!
“Dear Altair,” said the Queen, “you shall hear all. My father was the
King of this country and I was his only child. It fortuned that one
morn we went forth in a ship, and a great storm arose which drove us
from our course far out into the sea. Presently the ship struck upon
the reefs of the Perilous Isles and went to pieces fast. Of all aboard,
I alone was saved.
“My subjects long sought for news of the missing vessel, but in vain.
Years passed, and presently a fisherman of the Kingdom of the Moon
chanced to land at the Isles and heard from the fishers the story of
the wreck. He returned with the tidings, and my people came in a great
ship to take me to my land. We hurried away, for a dangerous wind was
blowing and the captain was a stranger to the reefs. But even now there
is a ship on the sea which carries tidings and gifts to the fishers of
the Isles.”
So now the courtiers and the attendants bowed politely and withdrew,
and Altair and Thyrza walked together to a great window by the sea.
And there the young sailor and the Queen who was a daughter of the sea
pledged their faith to one another.
Their wedding was the most splendid wedding ever seen in all the world.
Altair’s good father and mother were there, Thyrza’s foster mother too,
and all the sailors danced hornpipes and sang old pleasant songs of the
sea.
And they all lived happily ever after.