n Peru, and the little isle in the
Pacific where all the birds were nightingales and the Tree of Life
flourished; and the mountain north of the Main which was all one
emerald. "I think," he said, "that, though no man has ever had the
fruition of these marvels, they are likely to be more true than false.
I hold that God has kept this land of America to the last to be the
loadstone of adventurers, and that there are greater wonders to be seen
than any that man has imagined. The pity is that I have spent my best
years scratching like a hen at its doorstep instead of entering. I have
a notion some day to travel straight west to the sunset. I think I
should find death, but I might see some queer things first."

Then Shalah spoke:--

"There was once a man of my own people who, when he came to man's
strength, journeyed westward with a wife. He travelled all his days,
and when his eyes were dim with age he saw a great water. His spirit
left him on its shore, but on his road he had begotten a son, and that
son journeyed back towards the rising sun, and came after many years to
his people again. I have spoken with him of what he had seen."

"And what was that?" asked Ringan, with eager eyes.

"He told of plains so great that it is a lifetime to travel over them,
and of deserts where the eagle flying from the dawn dies of drought by
midday, and of mountains so high that birds cannot cross them but are
changed by cold into stone, and of rivers to which our little waters
are as reeds to a forest cedar. But especially he spoke of the fierce
warriors that ride like the wind on horses. It seems, brother, that he
who would reach that land must reach also the Hereafter."

"That's the place for me," Ringan cried. "What say you, Andrew? When
this affair is over, shall we make a bid for these marvels? I can cull
some pretty adventurers from the Free Companions."

"Nay, I am for moving a step at a time," said I. "I am a trader, and
want one venture well done before I begin on another, I shall be
content if we safely cross these mountains on which we are now
perched."

Ringan shook his head. "That was never the way of the Highlands,
'Better a bone on the far-away hills than a fat sheep in the meadows,'
says the Gael. What say you, mistress?" and he turned to Elspeth.

"I think you are the born poet," said she, smiling, "and that Mr.
Garvald is the sober man of affairs. You will leap for the top of the
wall and get a prospect while Mr