Two months later, in Skirophorion, I sailed into the Bay of Gades. When I stepped into Eldagon's warehouse and Elda-gon saw me, he dropped and broke an antique Athenian painted pot.
"Hammon!" he cried. "I never expected to see you again! Thrice welcome! Come into the office and talk. I thought King Bocchus had done you in."
"Oh, you have heard about my troubles there?"
"Your former mate, Mandonius, came here to ask for a job. He told us about your journey, albeit he was so vague about the stranding that I suspected him of being to blame."
"He was," I said. "But he did a good job in other respects."
"I don't care how good a ship's officer is in other respects; if he wrecks my ships I don't want him. But tell me all."
"First, I have a little indebtedness to settle. Pronax, bring out your money belt and your wallet"
We counted out the gold we had been carrying, together with the gold and silver I had gained by trading on my way to Gades.
"Now," I said, "this pile represents the value we put on the Tyria. The rest represents the cargo, as nearly as I could come to it by selling the Mikrotyria and her cargo, and the profits I made from Tunis hither. I think you'll find that I'm still a few thousand drachmai in your debt but I can pay that off with another voyage or two."
He sat with his mouth open, then said: "By the gods of Tyre, you are a wonder! I have lost ships before, but never has the captain made a new ship out of the wreckage of the old, salvaged and sold most of the cargo at a profit made extra profit by trading, and then come home to pile the whole thing in my lap! And without losing a single member of your crew, too. Truly, some god must watch over you."
I shrugged. "I've had my share of good and bad luck. Bad when Mandonius ran us aground, and with King Bocchus; and good in getting the crew back to civilization, and escaping from Bocchus, and trading from Tunis hither."
"Do you plan another try at circumnavigation?"
"I'm thinking of it. Would you and Tubal back me again?"
"Since you can apparently make a profit even out of shipwreck, we might."
"Shall I have to wait whilst you build a ship?"
"I think not. The Jezebel is due from Neapolis soon, and she needs refitting anyway."
"Fine. How are your beasts?"
Eldagon became animated. "I have a pair of new bear cubs, born during the winter while the she-bear was in her den. You must see them ..."
Without trying to skin a flayed dog, I made a new agreement with Eldagon and Tubal. The Jezebel (named for Eldagon's wife) duly arrived and was refitted for the voyage.
For an auxiliary, I had decided that longboats were inadequate. For inshore exploration, I needed a galley big enough to take care of herself if a blow parted her from her mother ship. So I had Tubal rebuild an old eighty-foot-dispatch bireme to my requirements. By permanently closing the lower oar ports, cutting down topweight, and removing the ram, I got a more seaworthy ship than most galleys of any size. With only twenty-four rowers, she was slower than with her full complement of forty-eight but still fast enough for my purposes. The larger crew would have put too much strain on the food supply.
I should like to have rigged both ships with my triangular sail. But I gave up the idea when I saw that, if I did, no sailors would sail with me, since they mortally feared anything new. Nevertheless, I had a fore-and-aft sail (as I like to call them) and a spar for it secretly stowed in Jezebel's hold, in case we had to buck a prevailing wind and current as had happened before.
By late Boedromion, I was ready to go. Again I shipped shipwrights, carpenters, and plenty of tools; also the means for growing a crop of wheat. Hearing of my plans, Doctor Mentor and his assistant came over from Tingis and signed on for another try. Mandonius also asked for his old job, but I regretfully turned him down. Although a likable fellow, he was too volatile and irresponsible for my first officer. I hired a Gaditanian Hellene named Hagnon instead.
I did not ship any more dancing girls; once was enough. I did, however, do something that I ought to have thought of the first time.
There were a number of black slaves in Gades. I tracked them down, one by one, and asked them where they came from. Most had originated in eastern Africa, whence they had been kidnaped and brought to the Inner Sea by way of the Nile and Alexandria. A few, however, came from the West, having been caught by Moorish slavers. Although the great African desert is a formidable barrier, it is not quite impassable. There are routes by which daring traders or raiders can cross it, and some of the hardiest desert tribes make a practice of this.
When I learnt that some of these Africans came from the parts I meant to visit, I tried to buy them. Some owners would not sell, and I obtained only three. Although they bore the usual Greek slaves' names, for my purposes I preferred to call them by their original African appellations: Mori, Dia, and Sumbo. I told these three that, when we reached their homelands, I wanted them as interpreters. If their work was good, I should free them and either put them ashore or sign them on as sailors, whichever they liked. Two seemed pleased by the prospect; the other man, Mori, was apprehensive.
"My tribe all eaten up," he said. "No have tribe any more. You go there, they eat you, too."
"Who will eat us?"
"Mong. Man-eating tribe."
Although I am less superstitious than most men, the idea of ending up in a tribesman's stomach instead of in a proper grave made me wince. I commanded my blacks to say nothing of this quaint habit to the crew. Many men, brave enough ordinarily, would turn pale and flee at the thought of such a fate.
All three blacks agreed that, if one continued southward down the west coast of Africa for hundreds of leagues, one passed the desert and came to forested lands. The desert belt, in other words, extends right across Africa from east to west, and a forested belt stretches parallel to it to southward.
And so, on the twelfth of Pyanepsion, the Jezebel and her companion, the galley Astra, sailed from Gades for a final try at the wealth of India.
For the first two ten-days of our voyage, everything went like a dream. We stopped at the island I had found on my previous voyage to top off our water. As the skiff pulled away from shore, a group of men rushed out of the scrub and down to the shore. They were lean, brown men of the Moorish type but seemed more primitive than even the Lixites. Some wore goatskin mantles, while others were altogether naked. They danced and capered on the beach, shaking wooden spears and clubs and shouting across the water. I was wrong in reporting this island as uninhabited.
We coasted the island to the southwest and discovered that it was really two, divided by a narrow strait. Beyond the second island we sighted other islands of the group, further out to sea.
For many days there was nought but the heaving blue sea to starboard, the long, low buff-colored coast to port, the blinding sun overhead, and the eternal northeast wind behind us. Once, indeed, the wind changed. A hot blast swept over us from the southeast, bringing such masses of dust and sand that we could no longer see to navigate. We felt our way in to shallow water, put down anchors, covered the hatches, wrapped our faces in cloth as the desert folk do, and waited out the storm. Presently there came a crackle of thunder and a spatter of rain—just enough to turn the soil that now cumbered our decks into slimy mud. When the storm ceased, we had a terrible task getting our ships clean again.
As Pyanepsion ended and Maimakterion began, signs of greenery appeared. The Astra, nosing in towards shore, reported that the land was now well covered with grass and herbs. The men also said they had sighted wild animals. Later they saw a group of huts, but too far away to discern the people.