he sea-captain. "I was at the Khan's
palace of Chagannor," says he, "seeing of the chief of the stewards was
there anything I could get for him, and I in foreign parts. And as I
was being rowed back along the river by my ten brawny sailormen, what
did I pass but the garden of Golden Bells.

"And there she was by the river-side, a little brown slip of a girl in
green coat and trousers, with a flower in her dark hair.

"And I lower my head in reverence as we pass by. But I hear her low,
merry voice, by reason of which they call her Golden Bells.

"'Ho, master of the vessel.' she calls. 'Where do you go?'

"And the sailors back water with a swish, and I stand up respectfully,
for all she is only a slip of a girl.

"'I go to foreign parts, Golden Bells,' I tell her; 'to far and
dangerous places, into the Indian Ocean. To the Island of Unicorns and
to the land where men eat men.'

"'I hope you come back safe, master of the vessel,' she says. 'I hope
you have a good voyage and come back safe. It must be a dreadful
strain on your people to think of you so far away.'

"'In all this wide land,' I tell her, 'there is none to worry about me.
I have neither chick nor child.'

"'Golden Bells will worry about you, then,' she said, 'and you in the
hazards of the sea. And take this flower for luck.' And she gave me
the flower from her hair. 'And let it bring you luck against the anger
of the ocean and the enemies all men have. And let me know when you
are back, because I'll be worried about a man of China and him in
danger on the open sea.'

"And wasn't that a wonderful thing from a daughter of Kubla to me, a
poor sailor-man?

"The son of the King of Siam came to woo her with a hundred princes on
a hundred elephants, but she wouldn't have him. 'I don't wish to be a
queen,' she told her father. 'How could I be a queen? I am only
Golden Bells.' Nor would she have anything to say to the Prince of the
Land of Darkness, who came to her with sea ivory and pale Arctic gold.
'The sun of China is in my heart, and you wouldn't have me go up into
the great coldness to shiver and die?'

"So she remains in her garden by the lake of Cranes with Li Po, the
great poet, him they call the Drinker of Wine, to make songs for her;
and the SANANG Tung Chih, the great magician, to perform wonders for
her when she is wearied; and Bulagan, her nurse, to take her to her
heart when she is sad.

"And sad she is a lot of the time, the