which
the planks had been nailed remained, and between them I perceived
tall-stemmed trees with tufts of great leaves at the top of them, which
trees seemed to be within a few yards of me. Bright-winged birds flew
about them and in their crowns I saw apes such as the sailors used to
bring home from Barbary. It would seem, then, that I must be in a river
(in fact, it was a little bay or creek, on either side of which these
trees appeared).

Noting these and the creeping plants with beautiful flowers, such as I
had never seen, that climbed up them, and the sweet scents that floated
on the air, and the clear light, now I grew sure that I was dead and had
reached Paradise. Only then how came it that I still lay on the ship,
for never had I heard that such things also went to Paradise? Nay,
I must dream; it was nothing but a dream that I wished were true,
remembering as I did the terrors of that gale-tossed sea. Or, if I did
not dream, then I was in some new world.

While I mused thus I heard a sound of soft footsteps and presently saw
a figure bending over me. It was Kari, very thin and hollow-eyed, much,
indeed, as he had been when I found him on the quay in London, but still
Kari without doubt. He looked at me in his grave fashion, then said
softly:

"Master awake?"

"Yes, Kari," I said, "but tell me, where am I?"

He did not answer at once but went away and returned presently with
a bowl from which he bade me drink, holding it to my lips. I did
so, swallowing what seemed to be broth though I thought it strangely
flavoured, after which I felt much stronger, for whatever was in that
broth ran through my veins like wine. At last he spoke in his queer
English.

"Master," he said, "when we still in Thames River, you ask me whether we
should run ashore into the hands of the hunters who try to catch us,
or sail on. I answer, 'You have God and I have God and better fall into
hands of gods than into hands of men.' So we sail on into the big storm.
For long we sail, and though once it turn, always the great wind blew,
behind us. You grow weak and your mind leave you, but I keep you alive
with medicine that I have and for many days I stay awake and steer. Then
at last my mind leave me, too, and I know no more. Three days ago I wake
up and find the ship in this place. Then I eat more medicine and get
strength, also food from people on the shore who think us gods. That all
the story, except that you live, not die. Your God an