Our reception by our party had the immediate effect of opening the eyes of the barbarians to the terrestrial nature of their supposed god; and they no sooner became aware how we had escaped their clutches than they began to assail us with showers of stones and lances, so that our retreat to the ships was a matter of considerable peril. No one, however, was seriously injured; there were many slight contusions, and Jonah's nose was ignominiously bruised by a stone hurled at him by one of his late worshippers.
Once safely on board, we made no delay in turning our backs upon this inhospitable shore, and steering westwards, made towards the island of Prydhayn.
With a calm sea and a favourable wind, our progress was easy; and anxious to learn all that had befallen Hanno and Jonah since we had lost them, we assembled on the stern of the Ashtoreth expressly to hear their story. Jonah, who had been well washed, insisted upon being dressed in Phœnician costume, and took his seat, with the monkey upon his shoulder, by the side of the scribe, who proceeded to recount their adventures.
"It is now, you know, more than a year since the day when we were caught in the ambush of the men of Tarshish. When we were first captured our lives were in the greatest jeopardy, for according to what we were told by a Phœnician I met, we were at once to be handed over to Bodmilcar, who was close at hand. Negotiations to this effect were going on, when it transpired that one of the Iberian chiefs had been so fascinated by Jonah's trumpet that we were to be retained, and not given over to the Tyrian, who was reported to be wounded. During this respite I contrived, by means of a stick and some blood from a wound of my own, to write a message for you on my sandal-strap; I had no doubt that the instinct of Gebal would take him back to Bichri, and accordingly I resolved to make him my messenger."
"Yes; and your message came that night," I said.
"I conjectured so," he continued, "by the monkey not returning. We were soon sent off towards the north, under the guardianship of a troop of Iberians, who did not by any means treat us badly, and after a toilsome journey came to a region where the mountains were so high that they were all covered with snow; they separated the land of Tarshish from the land of the Celts, and were called the Pyrenees. Here we were handed over to the chief of the Guipuzcoa, for whom we were destined. These Guipuzcoa are sometimes known as Bascons; they are a warlike people, perpetually engaged in hostilities with the Aitzcoa, or "men of the rocks," on the north-west, and with other Iberians on the south. We remained for more than two months before any opportunity of escape occurred; but at last, during one of the forays, we were left behind in the village, which was built upon piles at the mouth of a small river. We got possession of a canoe, and having filled it as far as we could with provisions, we ventured out to sea, and contrived to reach the shores of the Celts, from whom, in answer to many inquiries, I ascertained that some ships had recently passed along their coast, and, from various articles that they showed me, I had little doubt they were the Ashtoreth, the Dagon, and the Cabiros. Making out from the Celts that you had gone northwards, we left our canoe, and took passage in one of their ships that was on the point of sailing for Ar-Mor; but upon our arrival we found the people engaged in war with the Cymri of the Island of Prydhayn, so that we could not get transported there. For two months I sojourned in various parts of the islands of Ar-Mor, and picked up some knowledge of Celtic; but all the time I was trying to devise some plan of following you in the direction I felt sure you had taken. At length it chanced that I found a tribe of Cymri who were not at war with the people of Prydhayn, and embarked in one of their boats; but a tremendous storm arose, and we were driven far away to the east."
"Talk of storms," said Jonah, putting in his word; "was not that a storm? I saw leviathans spouting water from their noses as high as your mast, and we were tossed about the waters like a log. For three days we had nothing to eat or to drink."
"Jonah is right," continued Hanno; "the tempest was really frightful, and we were dashed upon the muddy swamps of the coast. The Cymri drowned themselves in sheer desperation, and we, more dead than alive, existed for more than a week upon roots and wild fruit from the wood."
"And what did you find to drink?" asked Himilco.