ZOE TAKES A JOURNEY
THE next few days seemed to Zoe to pass as in a dream. So many things
happened which she had never supposed could come to her, that she
was almost dazed. Uncle Andreas was such an energetic person that he
carried everything his own way. He silenced all objections to his
plans, and before the child fairly knew what was happening she had said
good-bye to her Thessalonian relatives, and with her new-found uncle
and Marco was sailing out of the harbour of Volo on her uncle's ship.
She wept a little at leaving her cousins, especially the babycoula, but
that Marco was to be with her robbed the separation of half its sting.
The future opened before her with much of interest. Unknown lands were
to be explored, and to Zoe this in itself was charming.
"Do you feel as if you were setting out to find the Golden Fleece?"
asked Marco as the two sat upon the deck and watched the hills of
Thessaly fade in the distance, as they sailed over the blue Gulf of
Velos.
"I feel very strange and full of wonder as to what will come next," she
said.
"Well, Little One," said Uncle Andreas' hearty voice, "what kind of a
sailor are you going to make?"
"Oh, I like it on the sea," she answered brightly. "When we came to
Thessaly, Mother was very ill, but I was not at all. I love the salt
air, the spray and the feel of the wind on my cheek. It is like a kiss."
"Good girl," her uncle smiled at her. "You are just the one to have a
sailor uncle. Many a fine sail shall we have together when we reach our
own Argolis. Marco shall be a fisherman and we three shall sail and
sail in the roughest weather. They do not know the sea who know her
only when she is calm. She is most beautiful when angry. Shall you tire
of your long voyage?"
"Oh, no, Uncle Andreas, I could sail for ever."
The time passed pleasantly for Marco told Zoe pleasant tales of their
own beautiful Greece, and her uncle told of rovings from shore to
shore. He had been a sailor for many years and now owned his own sloop,
in which he sailed over the Mediterranean with cargoes of currants
and lemons. He had had many adventures, had been shipwrecked upon one
of the little islands of the sea and in his youth had even sailed to
America.
"I do not believe that your father is dead," he said to Zoe one day.
"He may have written letters which you have never received, but I think
if he were dead we would have heard of it. Some day he will come back
or we will go and hunt him up."
Zoe's eyes grew large and tender.
"If my father would only come back," she said, "I should never ask the
saints for anything so long as I live. But I know I will be very happy
with you and Aunt Angeliké."
"Especially as Marco will be there," laughed her uncle, and Zoe laughed
too.
"Marco has been so good to me that I would be a strange girl could I be
happy without him," she said.
When they sailed into the Gulf of Athens and, rounding the point, she
saw the "City of Sails," as it is called from the many boats in the
harbour, the little girl could hardly contain herself. She saw for the
first time the wonderful marble buildings of the city of Athens, with
the Acropolis and the Areopagus, where gleamed the famous ruins of the
Parthenon; and to the child, her mind filled with the lore of the long
ago, every marble was peopled with heroes, every leaf and bud and bird
sang of Pericles and other famous Athenians, as Mt. Olympus and Tempe's
Vale had whispered of the gods of old.
Athens is perhaps one of the most interesting cities in the world. The
ship anchored in the harbour of Pireas and the three landed in a small
boat rowed by Uncle Andreas' stout sailors. Then they drove in a cab
between the long rows of pepper trees, Zoe bouncing from one window
of the cab to the other in a frantic effort to see both sides of the
street at once. The driver drove very fast, calling "Empros!" to any
passer who chanced to cross his path, and Zoe wished he would go slowly
so that she might see all the wonderful things they passed.
"Oh, Uncle, what is that?" she cried as they passed a procession of men
carrying something on a bier.
"It is a funeral," he said.
"Why isn't the coffin covered?" she asked, for as they drew nearer she
saw that there was no cover and the dead man lay covered only with
flowers.
"The custom of burying the dead without cover arose in the time of the
first Turkish war," he said. "The Turks feared that soldiers would get
outside of the wall by pretending to be dead and being carried out in
coffins. Several famous leaders got out of the city in that manner and
stirred up the country people to revolt. So they made a law that people
who died must be carried through the streets uncovered and a lid put
on the coffin only as it was lowered into the grave. Miserable Turks!"
and Uncle Andreas spat on the ground, as every good Grecian does when
mentioning the name of his hated enemy. The Turks have always coveted
Greece and in the bitter wars between the two countries has been bred a
hatred which does not die out as the countries grow older.
"Oh, Marco!" cried Zoe from the other window, "See them cooking in the
street! I never heard of such a thing."
"That is quite common," said Marco. "It is not good to have fire in the
house, you know, so men make their living by taking stoves around from
house to house and cooking whatever people wish for dinner. You see
many of the houses are built without any chimneys for the smoke, and
when they have stoves in them they have to let the smoke out through a
pane of the window. Often it blows back into the room, and so people do
not care for stoves. Heat in the house is very bad for the health, you
know, so these travelling stove-men make a good living."
"Nearly everything is brought to your door in Athens," said Uncle
Andreas. "The street sellers peddle not only everything to eat, but dry
goods, notions, hats, shoes, and nearly everything else, from trays
hung around their necks."
Suddenly their cab stopped and drew up at the edge of the sidewalk. Zoe
wondered what was the matter as she saw the driver take off his cap,
and her uncle exclaimed,
"Well, Zoe, you are in luck! Here comes the royal carriage."
"Oh, Uncle, is it the King?" she cried, bouncing up and down with
excitement.
"His Majesty, the Queen and Prince Constantine," said her uncle as a
handsome carriage drove by. Zoe had a glimpse of a fine-looking man,
and a sweet-faced woman gave her a bright smile. Then the cab drove on
again and she sat down with a gasp of astonishment.
"Is that all?" she said. "Why, Uncle, it was only a two-horse carriage,
and there wasn't any music or soldiers or crowns on their heads or
anything!" Her uncle and Marco laughed heartily.
"You are all mixed up, Little One," said Marco. "Crowns on whose
head--the horses? Our king is the most democratic monarch in Europe.
He often walks around Athens without any one with him at all. He is
quite safe, for every one likes him. He likes a joke and does not care
at all for fuss and ceremony. They tell a story that one day he was out
walking and met an American, who stopped him to ask if it was permitted
to see the royal gardens. Of course the American did not know to whom
he was talking, but the king said, 'Certainly, sir, I will show them
to you;' and he took him all around the gardens, talking with him
pleasantly and telling him many interesting things about Athens. At
last the American said,
"'What kind of a woman is the queen?'
"'She is beautiful and good as she is beautiful,' answered the king.
"'What about the king?' asked the stranger.
"'Oh, he isn't of much account,' said King George. 'He hasn't done much
for the country.'
"'That's strange,' said the American. 'You are the first person I have
met in Greece who did not speak well of the king.'
"'Indeed,' said the king with a laugh. 'Well, I know him better than
most people.' The man found out afterwards that he had been talking to
the king, and he was very much astonished.
"When the king first came to reign," said Uncle Andreas, "people
thought he would not be popular. He was a stranger, the son of the King
of Denmark, and brother of the Queen of England, but he brought to our
country such a magnificent present that our people felt kindly to him
from the first. You know the miserable Turks had taken away from us the
Ionian Isles, and England had taken them from the Turks and ruled well
over them for the years in which they occupied them. When the king came
to us he brought to us, a free gift, those beautiful islands, the loss
of which every Grecian had mourned for years."
"It is no wonder people like him," said Zoe. "I am so glad I saw him.
He has such a nice, kind face, and the queen is lovely."
"She gives much to the poor and is greatly beloved," said Uncle Andreas.
"It should make her very happy to be surrounded by so many who love
her," said Zoe softly.
"Angel of a child!" said her uncle. "You shall never be unhappy again
if I can help it."
"Oh, I am very happy," she exclaimed. "I was not unhappy at Marco's
home, not very," she added truthfully. "Only I wanted my mother, and
sometimes I wanted to be where we had been together. I think there are
always things we miss, no matter where we are. Now I shall be happy in
my own dear Argolis, but I shall still long for my mother and father,
and I shall miss the babycoula."
"You will have your cousin Petro to play with," said her uncle. "He is
about your age, and will love you like a sister and tease you like a
brother. Come, I know that you and Marco are thirsty. Let us stop here
and take a cup of coffee."
"That will be nice," said Zoe who had never seen a coffee-house. They
got out of the cab in front of a little shop with little tables at
which sat a number of people. They sat down to one of the tables and
Zoe watched with delight the making of the coffee. Grecian coffee is
made in a peculiar way. The coffee-machine has a round brass cylinder
which pulverizes the beans till they are fine as powder. A teaspoonful
of powder is used to each cup, and the powder is put in a brass dipper
with an equal quantity of sugar. To this is added boiling water and
the mixture is put over the fire until it boils. Then it is beaten to
a froth and boiled again, beaten again, and boiled and beaten a third
time, when it is a thick and delicious syrup. It is said to contain
all the good part of the coffee, and taken in this manner not to be
injurious at all. In Greece it is taken in great quantities, and this
may account for the fact that one almost never sees a drunken man in
Greece. Zoe sipped her coffee with delight and ate the _loukoumi_
and the handful of pistachio nuts served with it. Then as they sat
so quietly, there came to Zoe the greatest excitement of her life.
Suddenly there was a great commotion in the cafe; men jumped from their
seats, the waiters ran to the door, in the street children shouted and
waved their caps, as a cab drove up and from it emerged a young man. He
was of medium height, dark-haired, dark-eyed, with a strong, keen face
and an air of great simplicity, seeming rather abashed at the shouts
which rang through the air,
"Zito, Loues! Spiridione Loues!"
"Zoe, good fortune goes with you!" cried her uncle. "It is Loues,
the winner of the Marathon," and he lifted her high in air to see the
hero. All Grecians rejoiced to see him, for he had won the Marathon
race, when all the other prizes of the Olympian Games had been won by
Americans.
"Since the first Olympian Games," said Marco, as the noise quieted down
and Loues was allowed to take his coffee in peace, "there has never
been such an excitement as there was over Loues."
"Why do we have the Games?" asked Zoe, who could not understand why
there was so much fuss over a young peasant whom she thought not nearly
so handsome as Marco.
"It comes from the days of ancient Greece," said Marco. "I will tell
you of it while we wait for your uncle, who must speak with a friend
over there on business.
"In the very old days when men worshipped the gods, there was at
Olympia a temple of Zeus, and here men gathered every year to do him
honour. The Greeks loved all manner of sports. They wrestled, ran,
jumped, and threw the discus better than any people in the world. Their
bodies were strong and beautiful, as we know from the wonderful statues
which have been kept in the museums. They loved beauty so much that
they did everything to keep their bodies beautiful, fasting, exercising
and loving all fine, manly sports. So every four years they had the
Olympic Games; and men came from all over Greece to try to win the
prizes, for to have the laurel wreath of victory at Olympia placed upon
his brow, was the highest honour a man could wish. Envoys were sent out
early in the year of the games to invite strangers to witness them,
and people came hither from many lands. The victors were crowned and
carried in procession with shouts and hand-clapping, honoured by all.
"The games were stopped in the time of the Emperor Theodosius, because
he thought them too pagan, and he wished Grecians to put aside pagan
things and become Christians. They were begun again in 1896, and now
the King takes great interest in them, and so does Prince Constantine.
"Loues won the Marathon race, which is the most exciting of any of the
sports. Many, many years ago the Persians were at war with Greece.
They had so many soldiers that the Grecians felt certain that their
enemy would conquer, but they determined to fight to the death. It was
in the fifth century before Christ; Darius, the Persian king, led one
hundred thousand men against Miltiades and the Athenians, who numbered
only ten thousand men, and they fought a terrible battle on the plains
of Marathon. At home the wives and mothers, the old men and children
waited, feared and trembled.
"'Is there no news from Marathon?' they asked each other. 'Is all
lost?' But no answer came. At last they saw a speck of dust in the
distance and they held their breath. Was it defeat, dishonour,
captivity, which came flying to them from Marathon? None knew. The
speck came nearer and nearer, no speck but the figure of a man, running
as never man ran before. Breathlessly they waited, no one daring even
to speak, as he dashed to the city gates. White with dust he staggered
within the wall with one wild cry of 'Victory!' as he fell fainting
upon the ground. How men honoured him, the fleet runner who had brought
the news from Marathon, where Darius' men lay in mighty heaps of slain,
and Greece was free.
"So they made in honour of this victory the Marathon race at the
games, and Loues was the proud winner, the prouder because all the
other contests, even our Grecian disc-throwing, were won by men from
America."
"I am so glad I have seen him," said Zoe. "And thank you for telling me
all about it."
Then they started again on their drive and found that the sun was
setting. As they drove to the inn where they were to spend the night,
he was clothing with a rosy glow Hymettus and Penteligos, the two
mountains on either side of Athens. Then the glow faded and a deep
purple spread over the sky, deepening into violet. Zoe thought she had
never seen anything so beautiful, and she sank to sleep that night,
tired but happy, murmuring to herself, "It is my home, this lovely
Greece of ours. How glad I am that I am a Grecian."
The two days spent in Athens were full to the brim with delight for
Zoe. Her uncle seemed to have money enough to spend freely, and he
bought her a new frock, a new hat, and--wonder of delight! red shoes
stitched in gold. These came from Shoe Street, where all manner of
shoes hung in pairs outside the small doorways of the shops. Her uncle
had some business to attend to, and she and Marco wandered about seeing
the ruins of the ancient temples, with their wonderful marbles and
carvings, which have made the Parthenon of Athens famous all over the
world.
The most wonderful things Zoe saw were the peasant dances, and these
she stumbled upon quite by accident. Uncle Andreas had gone out to a
village north of Athens to attend to some business and had taken Zoe
with him. On their way home they saw a crowd at a small village through
which they passed.
"I wonder what is happening here?" said Zoe, and her uncle asked the
driver of their carriage.
"It is the time of the peasant dances," he said. "If you have never
seen them you should stop, for they are very beautiful." So they
stopped the carriage and watched the dancing, which was held on a
smooth bit of green sward outside the town. Men and maidens danced,
hand-in-hand, in long lines, with a slow, dignified grace of motion,
the men in _fustanellas_, or some of them in plain European clothes,
but the women's clothes were the most beautiful things Zoe had ever
seen. Especially lovely were three girls who danced particularly well
and were beautifully dressed. Round and round they circled, in a slow,
stately movement, to the music of a drum, clarionet and flute. The
costumes of the girls were loaded with embroidery, all the work of
their own fingers. Their dresses were white, but the embroidery, which
reached to nearly a foot above the hems of the skirts, was of coloured
woolen, green, blue and gold in the richest of designs. Over the skirts
they wore aprons, also embroidered, and sleeveless jackets of white,
with red borders embroidered with gold thread. There were caps on their
heads, covered with veils which floated back and gave a bride-like
appearance to the dancers. Bangles of gold and silver coins hung as
necklaces around their throats, and the driver explained that these
coins were the girls' dowries and showed how much they were worth to
the man who married them.
"I should think anyone would be glad to marry them without any dowry,"
said Zoe. "They are so beautiful."
"Yes," said her uncle laughing. "But even beauty has to be fed and
clothed, and a fair woman is fairer with a good marriage portion."
At last came the day for their departure and they were up and away on
the ship, sailing over the blue water.
"Tomorrow we shall be in Argolis, and you will see your new home, Zoe,"
said her uncle, and she answered, "My old home, too, Uncle. Thank you
for bringing me back to it."
They reached the harbour as the moon was rising in the sky, a slender,
silver bow such as Diana wielded in the forests of Ephesus. A soft,
hazy twilight breathed of fays and nereids, and Zoe imagined that
she heard them laughing in the crested waves. She was tired and very
sleepy, and her uncle said,
"We shall soon be there, child, and your aunt will be waiting for us
with a good supper."
She smiled a little, but her footsteps lagged as they walked up the
steep village street. Marco bent down to look at her face, then he
stooped and lifted her in his strong arms.
"She is tired out. I will carry her," he said, and Zoe heard nothing
more, for her head fell on his shoulder and she fell asleep, until a
kind voice said,
"Oh, Andreas, is that you?" Then two warm arms were around her and a
soft voice said close to her ear, "Is this my little girl?" She looked
up to see a lovely woman's face above hers; then she cuddled down in
the tender arms of Aunt Angeliké happier than she had been since her
mother died.