_I continue my search for the labyrinth and come
upon a hermit who relates a rather interesting
story, which decides my course of action._
I HAD lived a bachelor’s life for the reason I have heretofore given,
and had been exceedingly contented. But now nothing but an overpowering
desire for connubial felicity found place in my thoughts, and that
felicity persisted in centering around the writer of the message I have
set forth at length.
I had been made much of by many admirable women, owing to my many
adventures and traveling experiences, as, somehow or other, women like
brave men, and a man who has traveled a great deal they think must of
necessity be brave. I do not wish to be understood as saying they made
love to me; far from it; they were too polished: but I doubt not, had I
been so inclined, my suit would have received favor. But now my soul was
consuming for the presence of this unknown.
The days of magic were over, else I would have sought its aid. And yet I
was in a land of mystery. Might I not find some one whose vision might
locate this fair one?
I searched among the tribes of nomads diligently, without any degree of
success. Many there were told me much I knew, and more of which I have
not ascertained the truth or lack of it.
I spent several months in these fruitless efforts, and at last was
brought to a realization I had never failed when I relied on my own
ingenuity, and I should not fail in this case.
A short time spent in analyzing the situation, when I had reached this
conclusion, gave me a plan of operations: I must build another airship
and sail over the country until I found her, which should be a matter of
brief duration, as, if I could rise high enough, I could take in a vast
space, and must discover the white trees from a great distance, and
those once discovered, nothing could prevent reaching the goal.
I therefore journeyed to the mountains, as I could not launch my craft
from a low altitude.
About half way up the mountain side I came upon a cabin occupied by a
hermit. Now it so happened that one side of his cabin was composed of a
single board—just precisely what I desired. I made the remark I would be
glad to purchase it of him. At which suggestion he laughed immoderately.
What had he to do with gold? He neither bought nor sold. He did not even
so much as exchange one thing for another—not even in the matter of
clothing. I was convinced I could not find another board so well suited
to my needs, and I was not to be rebuffed.
I asked him upon what terms he would part with it. No terms whatever.
Did it not form one side of his cabin, and was it not exactly what he
needed in the place in which it was? I admitted the point. And he went
so far as to assert it came with very ill grace for me to suggest its
removal. Not saying as much as he would like, or as the circumstances
might permit, he would, however, state that I was laboring from one of
the ailments which were ultimately to ruin the human race, to-wit,
selfishness; that it had been the one blot on his fair life, and he had
come hither to atone.