“No, only a puff,” replied his friend, ordering the steersman to alter the course a little.
The squall or puff was only strong enough to cause the Penelope to make a graceful bow to the controlling element and cleave the sparkling water with her prow so swiftly that she left a gleaming wake as of lambent fire astern. It was short-lived, however, and was followed by a calm which obliged little Maikar and his comrades to cease their story-telling and ply their fifty oars. Thus the pace was kept going, though not quite so swiftly as if they were running before a stiff breeze.
“The gods are propitious,” said the captain; “we are going to have a prosperous voyage.”
“How many gods are propitious?” asked Bladud.
“That is a question much too deep for me to answer.”
“But not too deep to think of—is it?”
“Of what use would be my thinking?” returned the captain, lightly. “I leave such matters to the learned.”
“Now, mate,” he added, turning to his subordinate, “I’m going to rest a while. See that you keep an open eye for squalls and pirates. Both are apt to come down on you when you least expect them.”
But neither squalls nor pirates were destined to interfere with the Penelope during the greater part of that voyage. Day after day the skies were clear, the sea comparatively smooth, and the winds favourable. Sometimes they put ashore, when the weather became stormy and circumstances were favourable. On such occasions they lighted camp-fires under the trees, the ruddy light of which glowed with a grand effect on the picturesque sailors as they sat, stood, or reclined around them.
At other times they were obliged to keep more in the open sea, and occasionally met with traders like themselves returning home, with whom, of course, they were glad to fraternise for a time and exchange views.