The White Ship

I am Basil Elton,keeper of the North Point light that my father and grandfatherkept before me. Far from the shore stands the gray lighthouse,above sunken slimy rocks that are seen when the tide is low, butunseen when the tide is high. Past that beacon for a century haveswept the majestic barques of the seven seas. In the days of mygrandfather there were many; in the days of my father not somany; and now there are so few that I sometimes feel strangelyalone, as though I were the last man on our planet.
From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old; from farEastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet odors linger aboutstrange gardens and gay temples. The old captains of the sea cameoften to my grandfather and told him of these things which inturn he told to my father, and my father told to me in the longautumn evenings when the wind howled eerily from the East. And Ihave read more of these things, and of many things besides, inthe books men gave me when I was young and filled with wonder.
But more wonderful than the lore of old men and the lore of booksis the secret lore of ocean. Blue, green, gray, white or black;smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent. All mydays have I watched it and listened to it, and I know it well. Atfirst it told to me only the plain little tales of calm beachesand near ports, but with the years it grew more friendly andspoke of other things; of things more strange and more distant inspace and time. Sometimes at twilight the gray vapors of thehorizon have parted to grant me glimpses of the ways beyond; andsometimes at night the deep waters of the sea have grown clearand phosphorescent, to grant me glimpses of the ways beneath. Andthese glimpses have been as often of the ways that were and theways that might be, as of the ways that are; for ocean is moreancient than the mountains, and freighted with the memories andthe dreams of Time.
Out of the South it was that the White Ship used to come when themoon was full and high in the heavens. Out of the South it wouldglide very smoothly and silently over the sea. And whether thesea was rough or calm, and whether the wind was friendly oradverse, it would always glide smoothly and silently, its sailsdistant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically.One night I espied upon the deck a man, bearded and robed, and heseemed to beckon me to embark for far unknown shores. Many timesafterward I saw him under the full moon, and never did he beckonme.
Very brightly did the moon shine on the night I answered thecall, and I walked out over the waters to the White Ship on abridge of moonbeams. The man who had beckoned now spoke a welcometo me in a soft language I seemed to know well, and the hourswere filled with soft songs of the oarsmen as we glided away intoa mysterious South, golden with the glow of that full, mellowmoon.
And when the day dawned, rosy and effulgent, I beheld the greenshore of far lands, bright and beautiful, and to me unknown. Upfrom the sea rose lordly terraces of verdure, tree-studded, andshewing here and there the gleaming white roofs and colonnades ofstrange temples. As we drew nearer the green shore the beardedman told me of that land, the land of Zar, where dwell all thedreams and thoughts of beauty that come to men once and then areforgotten. And when I looked upon the terraces again I saw thatwhat he said was true, for among the sights before me were manythings I had once seen through the mists beyond the horizon andin the phosphorescent depths of ocean. There too were forms andfantasies more splendid than any I had ever known; the visions ofyoung poets who died in want before the world could learn of whatthey had seen and dreamed. But we did not set foot upon thesloping meadows of Zar, for it is told that he who treads themmay nevermore return to his native shore.
As the White Ship sailed silently away from the templed terracesof Zar, we beheld on the distant horizon ahead the spires of amighty city; and the bearded man said to me, “This isThalarion, the City of a Thousand Wonders, wherein reside allthose mysteries that man has striven in vain to fathom.” AndI looked again, at closer range, and saw that the city wasgreater than any city I had known or dreamed of before. Into thesky the spires of its temples reached, so that no man mightbehold their peaks; and far back beyond the horizon stretched thegrim, gray walls, over which one might spy only a few roofs,weird and ominous, yet adorned with rich friezes and alluringsculptures. I yearned mightily to enter this fascinating yetrepellent city, and besought the bearded man to land me at thestone pier by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he gently deniedmy wish, saying, “Into Thalarion, the City of a ThousandWonders, many have passed but none returned. Therein walk onlydaemons and mad things that are no longer men, and the streetsare white with the unburied bones of those who have looked uponthe eidolon Lathi, that reigns over the city.” So the WhiteShip sailed on past the walls of Thalarion, and followed for manydays a southward-flying bird, whose glossy plumage matched thesky out of which it had appeared.
Then came we to a pleasant coast gay with blossoms of every hue,where as far inland as we could see basked lovely groves andradiant arbors beneath a meridian sun. From bowers beyond ourview came bursts of song and snatches of lyric harmony,interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I urged therowers onward in my eagerness to reach the scene. And the beardedman spoke no word, but watched me as we approached the lily-linedshore. Suddenly a wind blowing from over the flowery meadows andleafy woods brought a scent at which I trembled. The wind grewstronger, and the air was filled with the lethal, charnel odor ofplague-stricken towns and uncovered cemeteries. And as we sailedmadly away from that damnable coast the bearded man spoke atlast, saying, "This is Xura, the Land of PleasuresUnattained.”
So once more the White Ship followed the bird of heaven, overwarm blessed seas fanned by caressing, aromatic breezes. Dayafter day and night after night did we sail, and when the moonwas full we would listen to soft songs of the oarsmen, sweet ason that distant night when we sailed away from my far native land.And it was by moonlight that we anchored at last in the harbor ofSona-Nyl, which is guarded by twin headlands of crystal that risefrom the sea and meet in a resplendent arch. This is the Land ofFancy, and we walked to the verdant shore upon a golden bridge ofmoonbeams.
In the Land of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neithersuffering nor death; and there I dwelt for many aeons. Green arethe groves and pastures, bright and fragrant the flowers, blueand musical the streams, clear and cool the fountains, andstately and gorgeous the temples, castles, and cities of Sona-Nyl.Of that land there is no bound, for beyond each vista of beautyrises another more beautiful. Over the countryside and amidst thesplendor of cities can move at will the happy folk, of whom allare gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness. For theaeons that I dwelt there I wandered blissfully through gardenswhere quaint pagodas peep from pleasing clumps of bushes, andwhere the white walks are bordered with delicate blossoms. Iclimbed gentle hills from whose summits I could see entrancingpanoramas of loveliness, with steepled towns nestling in verdantvalleys, and with the golden domes of gigantic cities glitteringon the infinitely distant horizon. And I viewed by moonlight thesparkling sea, the crystal headlands, and the placid harborwherein lay anchored the White Ship.
It was against the full moon one night in the immemorial year ofTharp that I saw outlined the beckoning form of the celestialbird, and felt the first stirrings of unrest. Then I spoke withthe bearded man, and told him of my new yearnings to depart forremote Cathuria, which no man hath seen, but which all believe tolie beyond the basalt pillars of the West. It is the Land ofHope, and in it shine the perfect ideals of all that we knowelsewhere; or at least so men relate. But the bearded man said tome, “Beware of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathurialies. In Sona-Nyl there is no pain or death, but who can tellwhat lies beyond the basalt pillars of the West?” Nathelessat the next full moon I boarded the White Ship, and with thereluctant bearded man left the happy harbor for untraveled seas.
And the bird of heaven flew before, and led us toward the basaltpillars of the West, but this time the oarsmen sang no soft songsunder the full moon. In my mind I would often picture the unknownLand of Cathuria with its splendid groves and palaces, and wouldwonder what new delights there awaited me. “Cathuria,”I would say to myself, “is the abode of gods and the land ofunnumbered cities of gold. Its forests are of aloe andsandalwood, even as the fragrant groves of Camorin, and among thetrees flutter gay birds sweet with song. On the green and flowerymountains of Cathuria stand temples of pink marble, rich withcarven and painted glories, and having in their courtyards coolfountains of silver, where purr with ravishing music the scentedwaters that come from the grotto-born river Narg. And the citiesof Cathuria are cinctured with golden walls, and their pavementsalso are of gold. In the gardens of these cities are strangeorchids, and perfumed lakes whose beds are of coral and amber. Atnight the streets and the gardens are lit with gay lanthornsfashioned from the three-colored shell of the tortoise, and hereresound the soft notes of the singer and the lutanist. And thehouses of the cities of Cathuria are all palaces, each built overa fragrant canal bearing the waters of the sacred Narg. Of marbleand porphyry are the houses, and roofed with glittering gold thatreflects the rays of the sun and enhances the splendor of thecities as blissful gods view them from the distant peaks. Fairestof all is the palace of the great monarch Dorieb, whom some sayto be a demi-god and others a god. High is the palace of Dorieb,and many are the turrets of marble upon its walls. In its widehalls many multitudes assemble, and here hang the trophies of theages. And the roof is of pure gold, set upon tall pillars of rubyand azure, and having such carven figures of gods and heroes thathe who looks up to those heights seems to gaze upon the livingOlympus. And the floor of the palace is of glass, under whichflow the cunningly lighted waters of the Narg, gay with gaudyfish not known beyond the bounds of lovely Cathuria.”
Thus would I speak to myself of Cathuria, but ever would thebearded man warn me to turn back to the happy shore of Sona-Nyl;for Sona-Nyl is known of men, while none hath ever beheldCathuria.
And on the thirty-first day that we followed the bird, we beheldthe basalt pillars of the West. Shrouded in mist they were, sothat no man might peer beyond them or see their summits -- whichindeed some say reach even to the heavens. And the bearded managain implored me to turn back, but I heeded him not; for fromthe mists beyond the basalt pillars I fancied there came thenotes of singers and lutanists; sweeter than the sweetest songsof Sona-Nyl, and sounding mine own praises; the praises of me,who had voyaged far from the full moon and dwelt in the Land ofFancy. So to the sound of melody the White Ship sailed into themist betwixt the basalt pillars of the West. And when the musicceased and the mist lifted, we beheld not the Land of Cathuria,but a swift-rushing resistless sea, over which our helplessbarque was borne toward some unknown goal. Soon to our ears camethe distant thunder of falling waters, and to our eyes appearedon the far horizon ahead the titanic spray of a monstrouscataract, wherein the oceans of the world drop down to abysmalnothingness. Then did the bearded man say to me, with tears onhis cheek, "We have rejected the beautiful Land of Sona-Nyl,which we may never behold again. The gods are greater than men,and they have conquered." And I closed my eyes before thecrash that I knew would come, shutting out the sight of thecelestial bird which flapped its mocking blue wings over thebrink of the torrent.
Out of that crash came darkness, and I heard the shrieking of menand of things which were not men. From the East tempestuous windsarose, and chilled me as I crouched on the slab of damp stonewhich had risen beneath my feet. Then as I heard another crash Iopened my eyes and beheld myself upon the platform of thatlighthouse whence I had sailed so many aeons ago. In the darknessbelow there loomed the vast blurred outlines of a vessel breakingup on the cruel rocks, and as I glanced out over the waste I sawthat the light had failed for the first time since my grandfatherhad assumed its care.
And in the later watches of the night, when I went within thetower, I saw on the wall a calendar which still remained as whenI had left it at the hour I sailed away. With the dawn Idescended the tower and looked for wreckage upon the rocks, butwhat I found was only this: a strange dead bird whose hue was asof the azure sky, and a single shattered spar, of a whitenessgreater than that of the wave-tips or of the mountain snow.
And thereafter the ocean told me its secrets no more; and thoughmany times since has the moon shone full and high in the heavens,the White Ship from the South came never again.