What a change has come over Nofuhl! He is the youngest man aboard. We
all share his delight, as our discoveries are truly marvellous. This
morning while I was yet in my bunk he ran into the cabin and,
forgetting our difference in rank, seized me by the arm and tried to
drag me out. His excitement so had the better of him that I captured
little meaning from his words. Hastening after him, however, I was
amazed to see such ancient limbs transport a man so rapidly. He
skipped up the narrow stairs like a heifer and, young though I am, it
was faster than I could follow.
But what a sight when I reached the deck! We saw nothing of it
yesterday, for the dusk of evening was already closing about us when
we anchored.
Right ahead, in the middle of the bay, towered a gigantic statue, many
times higher than the masts of our ship. Beyond, from behind this
statue, came the broad river upon whose waters we were floating, its
surface all a-glitter with the rising sun. To the East, where Nofuhl
was pointing, his fingers trembling with excitement, lay the ruins of
an endless city. It stretched far away into the land beyond, further
even than our eyes could see. And in the smaller river on the right
stood two colossal structures, rising high in the air, and standing
like twin brothers, as if to guard the deserted streets beneath. Not a
sound reached us--not a floating thing disturbed the surface of the
water. Verily, it seemed the sleep of Death.