The Last American: A Fragment from The Journal of Khan-li, Prince of Dimph-Yoo-Chur and Admiral in the Persian Navy — John Shaqi
The Last American: A Fragment from The Journal of Khan-li, Prince of Dimph-Yoo-Chur and Admiral in the Persian NavyMitchell, John Ames
Science
The Last American: A Fragment from The Journal of Khan-li, Prince of Dimph-Yoo-Chur and Admiral in the Persian Navy
Mitchell, John Ames
Science fiction
He had an encounter last night with a strange animal, and his defeat
was ignoble. The animal, a pretty thing, much like a kitten, was
hovering near when Jā-khāz, with rare courage and agility, threw
himself upon it.
And then what happened none of us can state with precision. We know we
held our noses and fled. And Jā-khāz! No words can fit him. He carries
with him an odor to devastate a province. We had to leave him ashore
and send him fresh raiment.
This is, verily, a land of surprises.
Our hands and faces still smart from the biting insects, and the perfume
of the odorous kitten promises to be ever with us.
Nōfūhl is happy. We have discovered hundreds of metal blocks, the
poorest of which he asserts would be the gem of a museum. They were
found by Fattan-laïz-eh in the basement of a high building, all laid
carefully away upon iron shelves. The flood of light they throw upon
the manners and customs of this ludicrous people renders them of
priceless value to historians.
I harbor a suspicion that it causes Nōfūhl some pleasure to sit upon
the cool deck of the _Zlōtuhb_ and watch Bhoz-jā-khāz walking to and
fro upon the ruins of a distant wharf.
_19th May_
The air is cooler. Grip-til-lah thinks a storm is brewing.
Even Nōfūhl is puzzled over the wooden image we brought aboard
yesterday. It is well preserved, with the barbaric coloring still
fresh upon it. They found it standing upright in a little shop.
[Illustration: The Wooden God.]
How these idols were worshipped, and why they are found in little
shops and never in the great temples is a mystery. It has a diadem of
feathers on the head, and as we sat smoking upon the deck this evening
I remarked to Nōfūhl that it might be the portrait of some Mehrikan
noble. Whereupon he said they had no nobles.
"But the Mehrikans of gentle blood," I asked, "had they no titles?"
"Neither titles nor gentle blood," he answered. "And as they were
all of much the same origin, and came to this country simply to thrive
more fatly than at home, there was nothing except difference in wealth
on which to establish a superior order. Being deep respecters of money
this was a satisfying distinction. It soon resulted that those
families who possessed riches for a generation or two became the
substitute for an aristocracy. This upper class was given to sports
and pastimes, spending their wealth freely, being prodigiously fond of
display. Their intellectual development was feeble, and they wielded
but little influence save in social matters. They followed closely the
fashions of foreign aristocracies. Great attentions were paid to
wandering nobles from other lands. Even distant relatives of titled
people were greeted with the warmest enthusiasm."
Then I said to him, "But explain to me, O Nōfūhl, how it was possible
for so shallow a nation to become so great."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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