At barren Dioskoridis Island, we stopped at the wretched Arab fishing village on the north coast. This is the isle's only settlement, the rest being given over to lizards, turtles, and crocodiles. Then we headed northeast once more.
When for a ten-day we had seen no sign of land, the sailors began to grumble. A delegation of three came to see me, saying:
"Captain, the boys have been talking, and we should like it mighty well if you'd turn back. The way we're going, we're sure to be swallowed by some sea monster or fall off the edge of the earth."
"The earth has no edge," I said. "It's round, like a ball."
"What a crazy notion—begging your pardon, sir! All the water would run off the bottom."
Not being too well up on the theory of gravity, I contented myself with saying: "Well, that's what all educated men believe, and you can see the curvature yourself as you sail away from land. Anyway, Rama is a wizard, and his spells will protect us. Besides, he has been over this track before and knows the way. So back to your posts."
All was quiet for a few days. Hippalos and I passed time by telling each other of our experiences in the Inner Sea. Although I suspected that many of his tales were fictions, I could not help enjoying them, for the Corinthian was a fascinating storyteller. One moonlit night he said:
"Eudoxos, old boy, I've known all along that you were going to India for some reason you won't tell. What is it?"
"Who, me?" said I, looking innocent—or as innocent as anyone with my scarred, weatherbeaten countenance can look. "I'm after fame and fortune, the same as you."
"Rubbish! I know better. You're already as rich and famous as any explorer has any right to be. And you've been asking about the wisdom of Indian philosophers. Are you after the secret of remembering your former incarnations, as some Pythagoreans claim they do?"
I should not have done it, of course; but I am not an especially taciturn man, and the monotony of a long, peaceful voyage can loosen one's tongue more than is prudent. I told Hippalos about my physical difficulties and my hopes of finding a cure in the East.
"Oil" he said when I had finished. "So that's why you have not made the least pass towards that pretty young sailor laddie. Well, may the Genetyllides stiffen your yard. What you need is that woman I lived with when I was an actor in Syracuse. She could give an erection to a statue by Pheidias."
"Are you married, Hippalos?" I asked.
"Not really, although some of my girls' fathers seemed to think so and went hunting for me with hounds and boar spears when I moved on. If you form no ties, you'll have no regrets."
The days passed smoothly, and then the men began to grumble again. The sailors whispered in each others' ears, shooting wary glances at Linos and Hippalos and Rama and me. They obeyed orders, but grumbling under their breath.
After a ten-day of this, I called a council in the cabin. While we conversed, Hippalos and I cleaned and honed our swords—which we had taken out of their oiled wrappings— while Linos filed the point on his hook. I asked Rama:
"How long before we sight India?"
"Oh, we are seeing land very soon, very soon."
"How soon is very soon? How many days?"
"How many days since we left Dernê?"
"Let me see ..." I consulted the tablet on which I had been keeping a log. "Thirty-one."
"Then we soon are arriving; maybe one day, maybe ten. You wait; I find out."
"Are you going to work one of those spells I've told the men you do?"
Rama grinned and wagged his head, leaning it to right and left. "Maybe. You see." He left the cabin and went to the tent he had rigged on deck.
Presently he emerged from the tent, holding one of the little birds he had brought aboard. Then he went forward, uttering some sort of chant in his own language and making gestures with his free hand. The sailors gathered around, watching. After some more hocus-pocus, Rama cast the bird from him. It flew round and round the ship, climbing with each turn into the sky, which bore a thin, hazy overcast. At last it disappeared into the haze high overhead.
An hour later, the bird returned to the ship. It perched on the rigging for a while, then came down and landed close to Rama, who held out a handful of birdseed. It let him capture it and put it back in its cage. To the expectant sailors, he put on a solemn face and pointed ahead, saying:
"Land that way is."
"How far?" asked several at once.
"Little more than three days' sailing." To me explained, privately: "If bird see land, she is not coming back to ship. Bird can fly high enough to see land three days' sail away. Simple, yes?"
Three days later, he released another bird. Again it returned to the ship. The sailors began to grumble again. The tension on the ship grew by the hour. Linos muttered in my ear:
"I think those two—Apries and Nysos—are at the bottom of this. Shall I slug 'em and drop 'em over the side tonight, sir?"
"Not yet," I said. "We might need them in case of a storm or pirates. We'll kill them only as a last resort."
"Well, you're the captain," said Linos with a sigh.
Next morning, Hippalos stepped out of the cabin ahead of me. At once there was a yell and sounds of a scuffle. I grabbed my sword and rushed out.
At one rail, a knot of sailors held Hippalos by the arms and around the waist. A couple tried to grab Linos, but he knocked one to the deck with a back-handed blow of his hook, and the other shrank back from him.
"Stand back!" yelled the sailor Nysos, touching a knife to Hippalos' throat. Linos hesitated; so did I.
"Now," said Nysos, "we've had enough, sirs. The fruit is all rotten, the water's foul, and this ocean just goes on and on. So you'll please bring the ship about and take us back to Egypt. Otherwise, we'll kill your mate."
"How in Tartaros do you expect me to sail directly into the polluted wind?" I yelled. "This wind blows for half the year one way and half the year the other. The northeast wind doesn't begin for months!"
"You say that crazy Indian pilot is a wizard," replied Nysos. "Make him whistle up the northeast wind ahead of time!"
I looked for Rama, who was emerging from his tent with another bird in his fist. "Please, people!" he said. "Let me try my land-finding spell once more."
With everybody watching, he went through his ritual and tossed the bird away. The bird circled, rose, and disappeared. We watched and watched, but the bird did not come back.
"You see?" said Rama. "Land is less than three days' sail ahead. If wind hold and we are not reaching land in that time, you may cut off my head."
Under a thickening overcast, we plodded on towards the northeast, with big swells coming up astern and rolling past us. The sailors kept control of Hippalos, with three men holding him and a fourth with his knife ready.
Late in the day, a man went up the mast and shouted: "Land ho!"
The man came down, and I took his place. From the masthead, I could just make out a dark line on the horizon when the swells boosted us up.
"See what you make of it, Rama," I said.
Rama went up in his turn and came down with a sour expression. "Syrastrenê," he said, "northwest of Barygaza. He is all desert or water too shallow for ship."
"Isn't there a decent harbor?" I asked. "If we could get some fresh food and water, it would soften up my crew of temple thieves."
"Gulf of Eirinon is, but too shallow. No big city is; no good harbor. Must anchor half a league out from shore and row in with skiff. You are turning ship to starboard now, quick, before we run aground. Shoals stick out long way."
We swung a quarter-circle to starboard, furled the artemon, and braced the mainsail around to take the wind abeam. For the rest of the day we bobbed along, the roll making poor Gnouros seasick. The overcast thickened.