“Not for many years I hope and trust,” answered Justinian, casting a look round at the now sunny sides of the mountain, which encircled them like a cup. “There is plenty of room yet; for my colony, in spite of its forty years, is only yet in its infancy. Lots of room yonder for dwellings; the soil is fertile, and affords plenty of food, and as to necessaries from the outside world, we export olives, cocoons, silks, wine, and dittany, receiving in return what we require from more advanced civilization.”
“Dittany! what is that?”
“I am afraid you don’t know your Virgil, Mr. Roylands. Dittany is an herb of rare medicinal power, which is found in Crete, and also in Melnos. It is excellent for illness of all kinds, especially fevers, and is as valued now as it was in the days of Pliny. Plenty of it up in the mountain yonder, as the goats are very fond of it.”
“Have you goats?”
“Of course! and also sheep, though I am afraid the goats are the more numerous. Indeed, I have imported here some of the rare Cretan breed—a kind of ibex, which grows to a great size. These, of course, I will not allow to be killed; but for food we have plenty of the smaller wild goats, such as exist in many places in Greece, particularly on the summits of Olympus. You probably forget we had goat’s flesh for supper last night.”
“And the lake, sir?”
“Artificial purely.”
“Sea-water?”
“Oh dear no. The level of this valley is considerably above that of the sea. I should be sorry were it otherwise, as, were it lower, we might run a chance of being swamped by the influx of waters. I am sure Alcibiades and his friends would be delighted to drown us like rats if they could. This lake comes from the snows yonder.”
“The snows?”