The Lost ContinentHyne, Charles John Cutcliffe Wright
Science
The Lost Continent
Hyne, Charles John Cutcliffe Wright
Atlantis (Legendary place) -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Lost continents -- Fiction; Science fiction
Tob’s woman must needs bring drink on deck, and bid all pour libations
to her as a future queen. But Tob cuffed her back into the after-castle,
slamming to the hatch behind her heels, and bidding the crew send the
liquor down their dusty throats. “We are done with that foolery,” said
he. “My Lord Deucalion will be king of this new kingdom we shall
build in the Tin Islands, and a right proper king he’ll make, as you
untravelled ones would know, if you’d sailed the outer seas with him as
I have done.” Beneath which I read a regret, but said nothing, having
made my plans from the moment of stepping on board, as will appear on a
later sheet.
So on down the great estuary we made our way, and though it pleasured
the others on board when they saw that the seas were desolate of sails,
it saddened me when I recalled how once the waters had been whitened
with the glut of shipping.
They had started off on their voyage with a bare two days’ provision
in their equipment, and so, of necessity even after leaving the great
estuary, we were forced to voyage coastwise, putting into every likely
river and sheltered beach to slay fish and meat for future victualling.
“And when the winter comes,” said Tob, “as its gales will be heavier
than this old ship can stomach, I had determined to haul up and make a
permanent camp ashore, and get a crop of grain grown and threshed before
setting sail again. It is the usual custom in these voyages. And I shall
do it still, subject to my lord’s better opinion.”
So here, having by this time completed a two months’ leisurely journey
from the city, I saw my opportunity to speak what I had always carried
in my mind. “Tob,” I said, “I am a poor, weak, defenceless man, and I am
quite at your mercy, but what if I do not voyage all the way to the Tin
Islands, and oust you of this kingship?”
He brightened perceptibly. “Aye,” he grunted, “you are very weak, my
lord, and mighty defenceless. We know all about that. But what’s
else? You must tell all your meaning plain. I’m a common mariner, and
understand little of your fancy talk.”
“Why, this. That it is not my wish to leave the continent of Atlantis.
If you will put me down on any part of this side that faces Europe, I
will commend you strongly to the Gods. I would I could give you
money, or (better still) articles that would be useful to you in your
colonising; but as it is, you see me destitute.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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