From
the east and to the east again. All our Age that with all
lacks was yet a stirring one with a sense of dawn and sunrise
and distant trumpets, now was going east, was going
Home, going east by the west road. West is home and East
is home, and North and South. Knowledge extendeth and
the world above is fed.
The sun made a lane of scarlet and gold across Ocean-
Sea. I wondered what temples, what towns, what spice ships
at strange wharfs might lie under it afar. I wondered if
there did dwell Prester John and if he would step down to
give us welcome. The torrent of event strikes us day and
night, all the hours, all the moments. Who can tell with
distinctness color and shape in that descending stream?
CHAPTER XI
AN hour after moonrise we were gone from Gomera.
At first a light wind filled the sails, but when the
round moon went down in the west and the sun rose,
there was Teneriffe still at hand, and the sea glassy. It
rested like a mirror all that day, and the sails hung empty
and the banner at maintop but a moveless wisp of cloth.
In the night arose a contrary wind, and another red dawn
showed us Teneriffe still. The wind dropping like a shot,
we hung off Ferro, fixed in blue glass. Watch was kept
for the Portuguese, but they also would be rooted to sea
bottom. The third morning up whistled the wind, blowing
from Africa and filling every sail.
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