"Thou art in it now!" he said. "We are standing on the Western
Continent. Little wonder we thought our voyage long!"
"And what was Nhu-Yok?" I asked. "I read of it at college, but
remember little. Was it not the capital of the ancient Mehrikans?"
"Not the capital," he answered, "but their largest city. Its
population was four millions."
"Four millions!" I exclaimed. "Verily, O Fountain of Wisdom, that is
many for one city!"
"Such is history, my Prince! Moreover, as thou knowest, it would take
us many days to walk this town."
"True, it is endless."
He continued thus:
"Strange that a single word can tell so much! Those iron structures,
the huge statue in the harbor, the temples with pointed towers, all
are as writ in history."
Whereupon I repeated that I knew little of the Mehrikans save what I
had learned at college, a perfunctory and fleeting knowledge, as they
were a people who interested me but little.
"Let us seat ourselves in the shade," said Nofuhl, "and I will tell
thee of them."
We sat.
"For eleven centuries the cities of this sleeping hemisphere have
decayed in solitude. Their very existence has been forgotten. The
people who built them have long since passed away, and their
civilization is but a shadowy tradition. Historians are astounded that
a nation of an hundred million beings should vanish from the earth
like a mist, and leave so little behind. But to those familiar with
their lives and character surprise is impossible. There was nothing to
leave. The Mehrikans possessed neither literature, art, nor music of
their own. Everything was borrowed. The very clothes they wore were
copied with ludicrous precision from the models of other nations. They
were a sharp, restless, quick-witted, greedy race, given body and soul
to the gathering of riches. Their chiefest passion was to buy and
sell. Even women, both of high and low degree, spent much of their
time at bargains, crowding and jostling each other in vast marts of
trade, for their attire was complicated, and demanded most of their
time."
"How degrading!" I exclaimed.
"So it must have been," said Nofuhl; "but they were not without
virtues. Their domestic life was happy. A man had but one wife, and
treated her as his equal."
"That is curious! But as I remember, they were a people of elastic
honor."
"They were so considered," said Nofuhl; "their commercial honor was a
jest. They were sharper than the Turks. Prosperity was their god, with
cunning and invention for his prophets. Their restless activity no
Persian can comprehend. This vast country was alive with noisy
industries, the nervous Mehrikans darting with inconceivable rapidity
from one city to another by a system of locomotion we can only guess
at. There existed roads with iron rods upon them, over which small
houses on wheels were drawn with such velocity that a long day's
journey was accomplished in an hour. Enormous ships without sails,
driven by a mysterious force, bore hundreds of people at a time to the
farthermost points of the earth."
"And are these things lost?" I asked.
"We know many of the forces," said Nofuhl, "but the knowledge, of
applying them is gone. The very elements seem to have been their
slaves. Cities were illuminated at night by artificial moons, whose
radiance eclipsed the moon above. Strange devices were in use by which
they conversed together when separated by a journey of many days. Some
of these appliances exist to-day in Persian museums. The superstitions
of our ancestors allowed their secrets to be lost during those dark
centuries from which at last we are waking."
At this point we heard the voice of Bhoz-ja-khaz in the distance; they
had found a spring and he was calling to us.
Such heat we had never felt, and it grew hotter each hour. Near the
river where we ate it was more comfortable, but even there the
perspiration stood upon us in great drops. Our faces shone like
fishes. It was our wish to explore further, but the streets were like
ovens, and we returned to the Zlotuhb.
As I sat upon the deck this afternoon recording the events of the
morning in this journal Bhoz-ja-khaz and Ad-el-pate approached, asking
permission to take the small boat and visit the great statue.
Thereupon Nofuhl informed us that this statue in ancient times held
aloft a torch illuminating the whole harbor, and he requested
Ad-el-pate to try and discover how the light was accomplished.
They returned toward evening with this information: that the statue is
not of solid bronze, but hollow; that they ascended by means of an
iron stairway into the head of the image, and from the top looked down
upon us; that Ad-el-pate, in the dark, sat to rest himself upon a nest
of yellow flies with black stripes; that these flies inserted stings
into Ad-el-pate's person, causing him to exclaim loudly and descend
the stairs with unexpected agility; that Bhoz-ja-khaz and the others
pushed on through the upraised arm, and stood at last upon the bronze
torch itself; that the city lay beneath them like a map, covering the
country for miles away on both sides of the river. As for illuminating
the harbor, Bhoz-ja-khaz says Nofuhl is mistaken; there are no
vestiges of anything that could give a light--no vessel for oil or
traces of fire.
Nofuhl says Ja-khaz is an idiot; that he shall go himself.