T was not long before I found our life in the whale intolerable, and, wearied by the tedium of our existence, set about seeking some means of escape.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From Lucian’s Wonderland, being a Translation of the ‘Vera Historia,’ by St J. Basil Wynne Willson, M. A., illustrated by A. Payne Garnett; Edinburgh and London: Blackwood and Sons; 1899, pp. 79-91.
THE ESCAPE — FURTHER ADVENTURES — THE FROZEN SEA — THE ISLE OF CHEESE —
THE CORK-FOOTED FOLK.
T was not long before I found our life in the whale intolerable, and, wearied by the tedium of our existence, set about seeking some means of escape.
At first we determined to effect this by digging through the right-hand wall. We began the operation, but after penetrating a thousand yards without success, abandoned the scheme and resolved to set fire to the 80 wood, which, we thought, would cause the death of the monster, and thereby secure us an easy escape. We began the conflagration in the tail-regions.
For seven days and nights the whale was insensible to the heat; but on the eighth and ninth we perceived signs of illness. It gaped more languidly, and on each occasion closed its mouth again quickly. On the tenth and eleventh days the monster began utterly to mortify and stink.
Pn the twelfth day it at length occurred to us that unless, when it gaped, we propped open its molars, so as to render closing impossible, we should run the risk of being imprisoned in the carcass and perishing therein. Accordingly, having firmly fixed the jaws apart with huge beams, we set to work the make the vessel seaworthy, and stowed away on board
DEATH
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as large a stock of water and of other provisions as was possible.
Scintharus we elected to be our helmsman.
On the following day the whale died. Immediately we dragged up our vessel through the interstices of the teeth, and attaching it by ropes to them, gently let it down into the sea. Then we ascended the whale’s back and offered a sacrifice to Poseidon hard by the trophy which the victors in the island-battle had erected.
Here we remained three days becalmed, but on the fourth sailed away.
On our course we struck upon many corpses of the giants who had been killed in the sea-fight. On measuring their bodies, we were filled with amazement at their vast bulk.
For some days we sailed with a moderate breeze, but soon a strong wind began to blow 82 and the cold became intense. The whole sea was frozen, not on the surface merely, but to a depth of four hundred fathoms, so that we left the ship and ran about over the ice. The wind not abating, we were unable to endure the cold longer, and devised the following scheme, of which Scintharus was the author.
We dug a large cave in the ice and remained within it thirty days, burning fires and subsisting on fish, which we discovered embedded in the ice. But at the end of a month our supplies ran short, and we hauled up the ship, which was firmly stuck in the ice, and spreading our sails, were swept along smoothly and easily, skidding over the ice as if we were sailing on water.
On the fifth day the weather grew warmer, and the ice melted, and the sea was liquefied
THE ISLAND OF CHEESE.
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CHEESE
ISLAND.again. After a voyage of about thirty-five miles we put in at a small desert island, where we obtained water, our supplies of which had run out, and after shooting two wild bulls sailed away. These animals had not horns on their foreheads but under their eyes, in accordance with the demands of Momus’ criticism.1
Shortly after this, we entered upon a sea not of water, but of milk. In it we perceived an island white in colour, and full of vines. The whole island was, as we afterwards discovered by eating of it, a vast, well-set cheese, three miles in circumference. The vines produce grapes, which when pressed yield not wine but milk.2 In the centre of the island a shrine had been built to Galatea, the nymph, as the inscription showed.
During our stay on the island the soil itself 86 formed our relish and staple food, whilst our drink was the milk from the grapes. The queen of the land, we were told, was Tyro, daughter of Salmoneus, who had received the sovereignty from Poseidon, after her departure from her own land of Thessaly.
We remained five days on the island, and on the sixth set sail with a gentle breeze and a rippling sea.
On the eighth day of our voyage, which was now being made no longer through milk but in blue salt water, we sighted crowds of men scouring the sea, resembling us in form, size, and all points, with the exception of the feet. These were of cork.3 For which reason, I suppose, they were called Phellopodes or Cork-Foots. We were amazed when we saw them not sinking, but buoyed up on the waves and walking about fearlessly.
THE CORK-FOOTED MEN.
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ApproachingCORK. 89 us, they welcomed us in the Greek tongue, and informed us that they were on their way to their native city of Cork. For some distance they accompanied us, running alongside the ship, till their way led in another direction, and they turned off, with good wishes for a safe voyage.
After a short time a large number of islands came into view. Close by on our left was Cork, whither our friends were hastening, a town built on a prodigious round bung. At a little distance away to the right we saw some very large and steep islands, with a large fire burning on them. On our bows was another, broad and low, not less than sixty miles distant. We were drawing quite close to it when a wonderful breeze wafted over us a sweetness and a fragrance such as the historian Herodotus tells us scents Arabia
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the Blest. The odour was like the mingled perfume of roses, narcissi, hyacinths, lilies, and violets, with an admixture of the scent of myrtle, laurel, and young vines. Entranced with these delightful odours, and in expectation of a happy rest from our sufferings, we gradually approached the island. Therein we saw many spacious harbours protected on all sides from the waves and clear rivers peacefully gliding to the sea. Moreover, there were meadows and woods, and singing-birds warbling on banks or boughs. The air that enveloped the land was light and soft. Across it blew sweet breezes gently fanning the trees, and from the swaying branches came ceaselessly the low music of sweet rustling sounds, like the melody of flutes in lonely glens. Mingled therewith we heard a confused hum of voices, subdued and like that of a banquet-hall, where some are playing the
THE ISLAND
OF THE
BLEST.91
flute, and some applauding, and some beating time to the music. Enchanted by these sounds, we put in to shore, and having anchored, disembarked, leaving on board Scintharus and two of our companions.
Notes
1 Momus was the god of mockery and censorious criticism.
2 Galatea and Tyro recall the Greek words for “milk” and “cheese.”
3 Cork is given as a translation of the Greek name Phello. Cf. French Liége.
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