“And this round here,” where the land trended to the left, and there was a deep inlet. “It is the Gulf,” said Bevis; “Fir-Tree Gulf,” as he noticed the tops of fir-trees. “And that up at the top yonder, right away as far as you can see beyond the Golden Sea?” “That’s the Indian Ocean,” said Bevis; “and that island on the left side there is Serendib.” “Where Sinbad went?” “Yes; and that one by it is the Unknown Island, and a magician lives there in a long white robe, and he has a serpent a hundred feet long coiled up in a cave under a bramble bush, and the most wonderful things in the world.” “Let’s go there,” said Mark. “So we will,” said Bevis, “directly we have got a ship.” “Write the names down,” said Mark. “Put them on the map before we forget them.” Bevis wrote them on the map, and then they started again upon their journey. Where the gulf began they found a slight promontory, or jutting point, defended by blocks of stone; for here the waves, when the wind blew west or south, came rolling with all their might over the long broad Golden Sea from the Indian Ocean. Pan left them while they stood here, to hunt among the thistles in an old sand-quarry behind. He started a rabbit, and chased it up the quarry, so that when they looked back they saw him high up the side, peering into the bury. Sand-martins were flying in and out of their round holes. At one place there was only a narrow strip of land between the ocean and the quarry, so that it seemed as if its billows might at any time force their way in. They left the shore awhile, and went into the quarry, and winding in and out the beds of nettles and thistles climbed up a slope, where they sank at every step ankle deep in sand. It led to a broad platform of sand, above which the precipice rose straight to the roots of the grass above, which marked the top of the cliff with brown, and where humble-bees were buzzing along the edge, and, bending the flowers down on which they alighted, were thus suspended in space. In the cool recesses of the firs at the head of Fir-Tree Gulf a dove was cooing, and a great aspen rustled gently. They took out their knives and pecked at the sand. It was hard, but could be pecked, and grooves cut in it. The surface was almost green from exposure to the weather, but under that white. When they looked round over the ocean they were quite alone: there was no one in sight either way, as far as they could see; nothing but the wall of sand behind, and the wide gleaming water in front. “What a long way we are from other people,” said Mark. “Thousands of miles,” said Bevis. “Is it quite safe?” “I don’t know,” doubtfully. “Are there not strange creatures in these deserted places?” “Sometimes,” said Bevis. “Sometimes there are things with wings, which have spikes on them, and they have eyes that burn you.” Mark grasped his knife and spear, and looked into the beds of thistles and nettles, which would conceal anything underneath.