“I used to be fond of the sea, and was wont to travel far from my father’s home to reach it. I made friends with the fishermen, and used to go off with them in their little skiffs. One day a storm arose suddenly, blew us off shore, and, when we were yet a long distance from this coast, overturned our skiff. What became of my companions I know not. Probably they were drowned, for I never more saw them; but I swam ashore, where I think I should have died of exhaustion if I had not been picked up by an old fisherman of this land, who carried me to his hut and took care of me. With the old man I remained several months, for the fishermen on the two sides of the channel had been quarrelling at the time, and the old man did not dare to venture across. I did not care much, for I enjoyed playing with his grandson, and soon learned their language. After a time the quarrelling ceased, and the old man landed me on my own side.”
“That is interesting. I only wish the old fisherman was here now with his skiff, for there is no village in sight and no skiff to be seen, so how we are to get over I cannot tell,—swimming being impossible and wings out of the question.”
“Ay, except in the case of fish and birds,” observed Maikar.
“True, and as we are neither fish nor birds,” rejoined the captain, “what is to be done?”
“We must find a skiff,” said the prince.
“Good, but where?”
“On the other side of yon bluff cape,” replied Bladud. “It was there that my friend the old fisherman lived. Mayhap he may live there still.”
Pushing on along shore they passed the bold cape referred to, and there, sure enough, they found the old man’s hut, and the old man himself was seated on a boulder outside enjoying the sunshine.
Great was his surprise on seeing the three strangers approach, but greater was his joy on learning that the biggest of the three was the boy whom he had succoured many years before.
After the first greetings were over, Bladud asked if he and his friends could be taken across in a skiff.