Now the Evil Spirit happened to be lurking beneath the angry waters, and he heard the oath. "Very well," cried he. "Sail on forever and ever, then! Sail on until you find a maiden fair who will be willing to die for love of you!" And so it came to pass. Through all the long years that followed, the ship sailed on and on. In fair or foul weather, over smooth or stormy seas, under blue or gray skies, the strange voyage continued year after year. Sometimes the captain in his despair would steer straight for the craggy rocks, hoping to be dashed to pieces, but the rocks would not harm his ship. He steered in the path of terrible pirates, but when the pirates saw the ship, they crossed themselves and hurried away. The blustering tempest would not harm it, nor the eddying whirlpool. It just sailed on and on. The sailors, who had been young and lively, grew old and silent. Their hearts were as gray as their heads, for though the days grew into weeks, the weeks into years, the years into centuries, still there was no rest for them. Their faces became as white as ghosts, and some say that the blood left their bodies and crept into the sails. At any rate, the strong, white ship turned black and weather-beaten, and the strong, white sails, red, red as blood. Only the captain remained forever young and handsome, and each seven years as the ship sailed into some harbor, he was allowed to go on shore to seek the maiden fair who would deliver him and his crew from their fate and set them at rest. But alas! no such maiden had he ever found. Many maidens had he met and loved, and many had loved him, too, but to be true to him forever and to die for him,--that was quite another matter. And so each time "The Flying Dutchman" had gone on again, until once at the end of a seven years' period he came to the coast of Norway. II Heigho, heigho! sang the sailors of a gay Norwegian bark as they cast anchor in a sheltered bay on the coast of Norway to escape the tempest, which had been tossing them about on the open sea. What though the south wind had driven them a few miles out of their course? The sunrise of another day would find them safe at home after their long voyage. In fancy, they could already see the dear ones on the shore, waving, smiling, welcoming! So "heigho, heigho for to-morrow!" sang they. Only Daland, the captain, was full of gloom. Impatient was he, also, for had he not expected to spend that very night by his own fireside with his daughter Senta? And now to wait here, so near and yet so far, with a raging sea between him and his peaceful home, was an ordeal, indeed. To battle with those angry waves had been no easy task, either. A little sleep would not harm him, thought he.