Heigho, heigho! sang the sailors of a gay Norwegian bark as they cast
anchor in a sheltered bay on the coast of Norway to escape the tempest,
which had been tossing them about on the open sea. What though the south
wind had driven them a few miles out of their course? The sunrise of
another day would find them safe at home after their long voyage. In
fancy, they could already see the dear ones on the shore, waving,
smiling, welcoming! So "heigho, heigho for to-morrow!" sang they.
Only Daland, the captain, was full of gloom. Impatient was he, also, for
had he not expected to spend that very night by his own fireside with
his daughter Senta? And now to wait here, so near and yet so far, with a
raging sea between him and his peaceful home, was an ordeal, indeed. To
battle with those angry waves had been no easy task, either. A little
sleep would not harm him, thought he.
Now you must know that in those days the seas were full of dread pirates
and bold robbers who prowled about seeking plunder, and so, before
Daland lay down to sleep, he called his steersman and bade him keep
sharp watch. The steersman did--for a little while. But he, too, was
tired. First he sang right lustily a merry song about the distant climes
where he had traveled, and of the kind winds that would send him back to
his sweetheart. Soon, however, his voice faltered; it grew fainter and
fainter. His head nodded once, twice. He, too, was asleep.
Then, while no one watched, slowly, quietly, out of the west, came an
old weather-beaten vessel with red, red sails, straight into that very
bay. Only you and I know whence it came, and how endless had been its
wanderings. So silently did it sail, so ghostly were its movements, that
no one on all Daland's boat heard a single sound. No one heard the
noiseless dropping of the anchor, the lowering of those red, red sails.
Nor did any one hear the sigh of relief with which the worn sailors
crept away to their berths, nor see the hope and longing that lit their
pale faces as they saw their captain spring eagerly to the shore.
Perhaps the captain stamped too heavily up and down on the wet sand,
glad to feel the solid earth under his feet once more. Perhaps he raised
his arms to heaven and cried aloud to God to help him now find the
maiden fair who would love him truly forever. Why, I do not know, but
just then Daland awoke with a start.
A strange vessel alongside! How he chided the drowsy steersman! A
strange captain on the shore! Quickly he leaped to the sand to greet
him!
"Whence come you?" asked Daland, "and whither are you going?"
The Dutchman replied but little. "Holland," he said, "and a wanderer
seeking shelter for his vessel from the storm." Home he had none, nor
wife, nor child, and gladly would he pay of his treasures for one night
at somebody's hospitable hearth.
And while Daland was marveling at this strange tale, and had begun to
tell of his own home so near and yet so far away, the stranger, at a
sign, had received a huge chest from his ship and was opening it before
Daland's eyes.
If "all the wild flowers of the forest, all the lilies of the prairie,"
all the glorious colors of sunrise and sunset, if the rainbow itself,
had been packed away in a chest to be suddenly opened before you,
perhaps you would have been surprised, too. Gold was there, and silver
was there, and the white sheen of pearls, and the bright sparkle of
diamonds, and the deep glow of rubies, all there dancing, glittering, in
Daland's astonished eyes. Was this some marvelous dream? When he found
that the treasure was real, he remembered Senta, and offered the
Dutchman his home for the night, telling him that his daughter ...
The Dutchman caught the word "daughter." Had Daland a daughter? Would he
give her to him for a wife? And Daland, who had been thinking what a
fine husband such a man, with a ship full of treasures, would be for his
daughter, lost no time, and said yes.
Then hope came again to the heart of the Dutchman. He was impatient to
see this maiden who, he silently prayed, might be the one to deliver him
from his fate. And while he prayed, the wind changed, the clouds broke,
a ray of sunshine peeped through, the sea became smooth as glass.
"You'll see her this day," said Daland.
And so, bidding the sailors raise anchor, Daland went aboard his boat,
the Dutchman aboard his, and with a heigho, heigho, they sailed out of
the bay.