Yermah the Dorado: The story of a lost raceWait, Frona Eunice
Science
Yermah the Dorado: The story of a lost race
Wait, Frona Eunice
Fantasy fiction; Geographical myths -- Fiction
The insulted man took the initiative. While singing, he offered his hand
to the offender. The face of the latter clouded, but the eyes of the
camp were upon him. He sullenly took the outstretched hand, and finally
the two voices blended in unison. Their comrades swelled the chorus to a
mighty shout and the whole difficulty was over.
This was in the Golden Age, in Pre-historic America, when the man who
served was a great soul, and he who refused to resent an insult, the
brave one.
Blood surged through the veins of Alcamayn, caused by accelerated
heart-action as he kept a firm hold of Akaza’s waist, to assist the
hierophant in following the sinuosities of the winding stairway in the
tower. Finally they stood alone on the roof, and as soon as the elder
man’s breathing became normal, he faced the east, and, with outstretched
arms, cried:
“I adore Him who enables me to endure.”
Alcamayn bowed his head, and, making the same genuflection, murmured:
“I give thanks to Him whose strength hath supported me thus far.”
Slowly and impressively the twain faced the other cardinal points and
repeated the same words. Then Alcamayn gave hand, and Akaza soon
retraced his steps to where the mechanical apparatus for astronomical
calculations and observations were in position. While thus occupied,
Alcamayn surveyed the whole city, going from one lookout to another.
It was a perfect day, and his surroundings resembled an enormous
ant-hill, with throngs of workers going in and coming out of the houses,
or hastening along the thoroughfares. He turned to the bay, where a
vision of surpassing beauty rewarded him.
Not a wisp of fleecy cloud dimmed the blue vault overhead; the only
flecks of color being the pinks and lavenders blended into the sky-line
above the horizon.
The soft, limpid atmosphere revealed the outlines of the shore
indentations, whose lights and shadows added their quota to the
indescribable charm. The water was smooth and clear as a sheet of
crystal, with big and little crafts moving here and there instinct with
life and industry.
Off what is now Black Point, Alcamayn saw a party of fishermen with
their dogs and skiffs making for the shore. There were two groups of men
and dogs already on the beach at stations about two hundred yards apart.
At a given signal the dogs started from their given points and swam
straight out seaward, single file in two columns. At a sharp cry from
one of the men on the beach, the right column wheeled to the left, and
the left column wheeled to the right, until the head of each line met.
Then another signal was given, at which they all turned and swam abreast
to the shore. As the dogs neared the beach, increasing numbers of fish
appeared in the shallow water. When their feet touched bottom, the
animals pounced upon their finny captives and carried them to their
masters. Each dog was given the head of the fish he had secured, as his
share of the catch. The dog who caught nothing received nothing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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