I gave him my hand, assuring him that I had every confidence in his fidelity, and then proceeded to explain the motive that induced me to extend my voyage. I showed them a fragment of a transparent yellow substance, which appeared to be comparable to some of the jewels of our own land. The Celt who had given it me called it amber, and told me that thirty days' sailing to the east would bring me to the shore of a large continent where it was washed up in great abundance. Here truly was a gift from Ashtoreth!
"And who knows," I continued, "whether the vast ocean which is united to the Great Sea at the Straits of Gades may not again be united to it in the east? Hitherto we have learnt nothing about the northern shores of the Black Sea, and who can tell whether we shall not be able to return to Sidon by way of Caria and Chittim?"
The familiar sound of these names rekindled the courage of my people, who one and all avowed their intention of accompanying me eastwards to the amber-coast.
"Yes," said Himilco, "although the wine is all gone."
Our new vessel (which was called the Adonibal, after the naval suffect at Utica) was well freighted with our cargo of tin; like the other ships, she took in a good supply of water and a quantity of dry salted meat, as well as some grain and some of the sour native fruits.
After bidding farewell to the kindly-disposed Cymri, who had contributed so much to our comfort during our long sojourn among them, we put out to sea. The islanders accompanied us for some distance in their canoes, but we soon outstripped them and left them out of sight as we doubled the western extremity of Prydhayn.
Six days' rough sailing brought us to the eastern extremity of the island; thence steering due east I came to a low flat coast, along which I continued to advance very cautiously. This took us a week, at the end of which we found ourselves in a wide estuary, on the far side of which the coast resumed its northerly direction. In spite of the violent wind and angry sea I persisted in following the coast for yet five days more, seeking a passage towards the east, holding no communication with the natives, although the glow of the fires inland demonstrated that the country was inhabited. But at last the state of our provisions and the continuance of rough weather compelled us to abandon all hope of discovering a passage, even if one existed, which probably after all was not the case, and we turned back, meeting on our way four large Cymrian canoes coming back from the continent, where their crews had been collecting amber. They assured us we should find unlimited quantities on the eastern shore, and I was preparing to proceed thitherwards when we were enveloped in a fog so dense, that we were forced to lay to. We sent some boats out to reconnoitre; these had some difficulty in getting to the shore, but considerably more in getting back again to the ships, although I had lighted a number of torches and lamps as beacons.
When the fog lifted a little we made our way very gradually until we came to what looked like land. This was the amber country.
"Since there is nothing to be found at sea," I said, "let us disembark."
But disembarkment was no easy matter. We had entered, without knowing it, into what seemed to be the estuary of a river; but we were literally imbedded in mire, and it was next to impossible to define the boundary between the muddy water and the slimy shore; in the gloomy atmosphere, earth, air, sky, seemed all to be blended into one. After four or five hours' toil the Ashtoreth was moored in a small creek, and the other vessels were drawn up on what was the nearest approach to dry land that the sodden sands afforded. It took the rest of the day to dig a trench round the ships, and to make a kind of encampment for ourselves; the fog again became extremely dense, and the gloomy day yielded only to a gloomier night.