e, shouting over his shoulder to his astonished friends:
     "That must be the Sons of the Wind!"
     The blood  rushed  to  the  heads of the Etruscan  and the Hellene, and
they, too,  set off at a run along a short path to the sea known to Pandion.
On the crest of a hill Pandion and Cavius stood still.
     "The Sons of the Wind!"
     The  dark purple  shadow  of the  huge mountain lay  on the  shore  and
stretched far  out to sea, dulling the sparkle of the waves  and  giving the
water the  gloomy tones of the forest thickets. Black ships,  in shape  like
those  of  the Hellenes, with curved  swanlike breasts  and high prows, were
already drawn up on the greying sands. There were  five of  them. With their
unstepped masts they looked like black ducks asleep on the beach.
     Bearded  warriors in rough grey cloaks walked up and down in  front  of
the ships, the bronze of their shields flashing; in their hands they carried
broad battle-axes  on long handles. The chiefs, the merchants and all  those
who were  not on guard duty must have gone to Kidogo's village. The Etruscan
and the Hellene turned back.
     Kidogo awaited them impatiently at their house.
     "The Sons  of the Wind are with  the chiefs," the Negro informed  them.
"I've  asked my uncle to talk to the big  chief, and he himself will talk to
them about you.  It will be safer that way.  The  Sons of the Wind will  not
dare to quarrel with him and will bring you safely home." And in the Negro's
wan smile there was no joy.
     Hundreds of people gathered on the shore to bid farewell to the parting
ships. The Sons  of  the Wind were  in a great  hurry;  the sun  was already
setting, and for  some  reason of their own they were determined to  set out
that day. The  loaded ships were  slowly  rocking  on  the swell  beyond the
reefs. Amongst the other goods lay the gift of Kidogo's  people-payment  for
the return of the former slaves to their own countries.  To reach  the ships
they had to wade breast-high through the water that covered a sand-bank. The
chiefs  of the Sons  of the  Wind held  back to talk with  the Negro chiefs,
asking them to prepare a greater number of goods for the next year, swearing
that they would arrive at the appointed time.
     Cavius stood beside Kidogo,  holding in one hand  the huge  bundle that
contained the skin and skull of the terrible gishu. As a parting gift Kidogo
gave Cavius and Pandion  two big  throwing-knives.  This  implement  of war,
invented by  the Tengrela  people, consisted  of  a  large  sheet  of bronze
divided into five fingers, four of them crescent-shaped with sharpened edges
and  the fifth  long and thin with a  horn  handle on  it. This weapon, when
hurled  by able hands,  whistled through  the air  and  killed its victim at
twenty cubits distance.
     With  a  heavy  heart  Pandion looked  round  him,  examining  his  new
fellow-travellers  and  masters.  Their  harsh,  wind-burned faces were  the
colour of dark brick; their undipped beards were tangled on their cheeks; in
their heavy  gait, in the grim  folds of their foreheads and lips there  was
none  of  the  kind-heartedness   that  was  typical   of  Kidogo's  people.
Nevertheless  Pandion trusted  them,  perhaps  because the Sons of the Wind,
like he, were loyal to  the  sea, lived  in concord with it and loved it. Or
perhaps it was because he and Cavius met familiar words in their speech.
     The Sons of the Wind willingly consented to take the former slaves with
them for the payment offered. Kidogo's uncle, Yorumefu, even bargained for a
reduction of six tusks  and two baskets of medicinal nuts, which were loaded
on to the ships as the property of Cavius, Pandion and the Libyans. The Sons
of the Wind separated their passengers against their will-six Libyans on one
ship, Pandion, Cavius and the other three Libyans on another.
     The harbour of the Sons of  the Wind was near the Gates of the Mists, a
tremendous distance from  Kidogo's country,  no less than two months sailing
in the most  favourable weather. Cavius and Pandion  were  dismayed at this;
they  had had  no conception of  the enormous distance and realized that the
Sons of the Wind were men as skilled in their battle against the sea as were
the  Elephant People in their battle against  the plains of Africa.  Pandion
still had to sail almost the whole length of the Green Sea  from the harbour
of the Sons of the Wind to his own country; but this was a distance that was
little more than a third of that from Kidogo's village to the harbour of the
Sons of  the Wind. The Sons of the Wind pacified Pandion and Cavius with the
assurance that Phoenician ships often came to them from Tyre, Crete,  Cyprus
and the Gulf of Sidra.
     As Pandion stood on the shore, however, he was not thinking of that. In
his  confusion  he stared at the sea as though he were trying to measure the
long  journey  before  him and then turned  to Kidogo. The commander  of the
fleet  of  ships,  a  man with  a  circlet of solid gold in  his curly hair,
shouted loudly, ordering them to get aboard.
     Kidogo seized Pandion and Cavius by  their  hands, making no effort  to
hide his tears.
     "Good-bye  for  ever, Pandion,  and you, Cavius," whispered the  Negro.
"When you  are  there,-in  your distant country,  remember Kidogo  who truly
loves  you  both.  Re: member  our days of slavery  in  Tha-Quem,  when  our
friendship was  our  mainstay;  remember the days of the  insurrection,  the
flight and the great march to the sea. . . .I shall always be with you in my
thoughts. You are leaving me for ever, you who have become dearer to me than
life itself."  The Negro's  voice grew stronger. "I shall believe  that  the
time will  come when people will  learn not to be afraid  of the expanses of
the sea. The sea will unite them. . . . But I shall never see you again. . .
. Oh, great is my grief. . . ." Bitter sobs shook Kidogo's huge body.
     The friends joined  hands for the last  time as the Sons  of  the  Wind
called to them from the ships.
     Pandion's handclasp slackened,  Cavius turned  away.  They stepped into
the warm water and, sliding over the slippery stones, hurried to the ships.
     Pandion  stepped on  to the deck of a ship for the first  time in  many
years; he was  flooded with memories  of the days of happy sailing  in times
long  past-no more than fleeting thoughts, however,  for  the memories  soon
disappeared. All his  thoughts were  concentrated  on the tall black  figure
standing  aloof  from the  others  on the seashore  at the very edge of  the
water. The  oars splashed,  their rhythmic beat  grew faster,  and  the ship
passed out beyond the reefs. The seamen raised  the huge sail, and the  wind
carried the vessel before it.
     The figures of the  people  on the shore grew smaller  and smaller; and
soon  Kidogo, lost to his friends for  ever, was no more than  a  tiny black
dot. The deepening twilight hid the coast-line, but the dark  mountain ridge
hung gloomily over the stern of the ships. Cavius wiped away a big tear, and
it  was not the first. A huge bat that flew out from the  coast, parallel to
which the ships were travelling, brushed Pandion's face with  its wing. That
light, silky touch affected Pandion like the last word of  farewell from the
land he was leaving.
     It was with a sense of dismay that Pandion parted from his Negro friend
and from the land in which he had gone through so much, where he was leaving
part of  his  heart behind.  He had a  vague feeling that in future days  of
weariness  or sorrow, at home in his own country, Africa would appear before
his eyes  beckoning and beautiful, and that only  because it was lost to him
for ever, like Iruma. In abandoning  everything that  had become part of his
very life,  in turning his  face  and his heart towards Hellas, Pandion  was
stricken with doubt. What awaited him there, after so long an absence?
     How would he settle down amongst his own people, he who was returning a
different man  from the  one  who  had left? Who would he  find amongst  the
living? Thessa-was she still alive, and did she still love him? Or? ...
     The  ships, headed westwards,  dived wearily  into the troughs  of  the
waves. The Sons of the Wind had told their passengers that they  would  sail
westwards  for a whole month before turning north. The  mighty breath of the
ocean ruffled Pandion's hair.  The taciturn sailors were unhurriedly busy at
their  work  beside him.  The Sons of the  Wind, descendants of the  ancient
mariners of  Crete,  seemed  more  alien  to Pandion than the  black-skinned
inhabitants  of  Africa.  The  Hellene  squeezed  the  bag that hung on  his
breast-it  contained the  stone on which was carved the image of  Kidogo-and
joined his companions huddled together sadly in a corner of  a strange ship.
. . .
     A  round, orange-coloured moon  rose  from behind the mountains. In its
light  the ocean, the Great Arc that encircled all  the lands  of the world,
was furrowed with  black  hollows over which the brightly  lit caps  of  the
waves glided smoothly  on  their way.  The  tiny vessels  sailed bravely on,
pointing their sharp prows straight up at the star-filled sky amidst showers
of  silvery  spray, then  racing downwards into the dull  roar of the sombre
depths. To Pandion this  seemed like  his own life story. Far away ahead  of
him the opalescent crests of the waves merged into one bright path of light,
the stars descended and rocked on the surface of the water  just as they did
by the shores of his native  Hellas. The ocean had accepted these courageous
men,  had  consented  to  carry them  on  its  bosom  over  an  immeasurable
distance-to their homes. . . .


     "Eupalin,  did  you see  that cameo cut  on  a  stone the colour of the
sea-it is the  most perfect work of art in Oeniadae, or rather, if the truth
be told, in all Hellas?"
     Eupalin  did  not  answer  immediately.  Listening attentively  to  the
strident neighing of his favourite horse, held by a strong slave, he wrapped
himself more closely in a cloak of fine wool. In the shade of the stable the
spring wind had a tinge of cold in it, although the grey slopes of the stony
hills  were already covered with  blossoming  trees. Down below,  the almond
groves stretched in delicate pink clouds; above them, higher up the  slopes,
patches of dark rose, almost violet, colouring marked the  thickets of dense
shrubs.  The  cold breeze from  the  hills carried  with it the fragrance of
almond  blossoms, the herald of a  new spring  in the  valleys of  Oeniadae.
Eupalin took a deep breath and tapped with his finger on a wooden post.
     "I've heard," he began slowly,  "that it was carved by the  adopted son
of Agenor who's been wandering abroad for  many years. He was believed dead,
but recently returned from some very distant land."
     "And Agenor's  daughter, the beautiful Thessa.  . .  .  You've heard of
her, of course?"
     "I've heard that she refused to marry for six years in the firm  belief
that her lover would return. Her father, the artist, allowed her. . . ."
     "I  know  that he not only consented to  her  waiting, but himself also
awaited the return of his adopted son."
     "This is one of those rare occasions when things turn out according  to
expectations.  He did  not  die, but  became  Thessa's husband and  a  great
artist. It's a pity you  did not have an opportunity to see  the  cameo; you
are a connoisseur and would have appreciated it!"
     "I'll do  as you  wish and go to see Agenor. He lives on  Cape Achelous
which is no more than twenty stadia from here. . . ."
     "Unfortunately,  you're  too late, Eupalin. The  artist  who carved the
cameo made a present of it-just  imagine!- to a friend of his, some Etruscan
vagabond. The  man fell sick on the journey home and he took him to Agenor's
house, looked  after him  until he was well again and then gave  him a jewel
that would have made all Oeniadae famous. The Etruscan rewarded him with the
skin of a disgusting beast, a horrible thing that has  never  been heard  of
before. . . ."
     "A  beggar he  left  and a beggar  he  has  returned.  Didn't  he learn
anything from  his wanderings that he can make a valuable gift to anybody he
meets?"
     "It's hard for you and me to understand  a man who has lived so long in
strange lands. Still, I'm sorry the cameo has gone from us!"


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