The Literature of Arabia: With Critical and Biographical Sketches by Epiphanius Wilson
General
The Literature of Arabia: With Critical and Biographical Sketches by Epiphanius Wilson
Arabic literature
Not even all that I had gone through could make me contented with a
quiet life. I soon wearied of its pleasures, and longed for change and
adventure. Therefore I set out once more, but this time in a ship of my
own, which I built and fitted out at the nearest seaport. I wished to be
able to call at whatever port I chose, taking my own time; but as I did
not intend carrying enough goods for a full cargo, I invited several
merchants of different nations to join me. We set sail with the first
favorable wind, and after a long voyage upon the open seas we landed
upon an unknown island which proved to be uninhabited. We determined,
however, to explore it, but had not gone far when we found a roc's egg,
as large as the one I had seen before and evidently very nearly hatched,
for the beak of the young bird had already pierced the shell. In spite
of all I could say to deter them, the merchants who were with me fell
upon it with their hatchets, breaking the shell, and killing the young
roc. Then lighting a fire upon the ground they hacked morsels from the
bird, and proceeded to roast them while I stood by aghast.
Scarcely had they finished their ill-omened repast, when the air above
us was darkened by two mighty shadows. The captain of my ship, knowing
by experience what this meant, cried out to us that the parent birds
were coming, and urged us to get on board with all speed. This we did,
and the sails were hoisted, but before we had made any way the rocs
reached their despoiled nest and hovered about it, uttering frightful
cries when they discovered the mangled remains of their young one. For a
moment we lost sight of them, and were flattering ourselves that we had
escaped, when they reappeared and soared into the air directly over our
vessel, and we saw that each held in its claws an immense rock ready to
crush us. There was a moment of breathless suspense, then one bird
loosed its hold and the huge block of stone hurtled through the air, but
thanks to the presence of mind of the helmsman, who turned our ship
violently in another direction, it fell into the sea close beside us,
cleaving it asunder till we could nearly see the bottom. We had hardly
time to draw a breath of relief before the other rock fell with a mighty
crash right in the midst of our luckless vessel, smashing it into a
thousand fragments, and crushing, or hurling into the sea, passengers
and crew. I myself went down with the rest, but had the good fortune to
rise unhurt, and by holding on to a piece of driftwood with one hand and
swimming with the other I kept myself afloat and was presently washed up
by the tide on to an island. Its shores were steep and rocky, but I
scrambled up safely and threw myself down to rest upon the green turf.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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