In the course of a few generations the descendants of the first adventurers had thickly peopled the whole island, and had lost all record of the land from whence they came, nor did they know whether it lay to the north or south, or to the east or west.
Monarch succeeded monarch, till King Zaphor came to the throne of Gracia. Everybody loved King Zaphor, for he was a benignant and paternal sovereign, who attended to the wants of his subjects. The King had a daughter, the Princess Serena; he loved his people, but he absolutely doted on his daughter. She was the child of his affections, the sole relic of a departed wife, the soother of his regal cares, the companion of his hours of retirement. The people loved their King, but they almost adored the Princess, and there was not a man in the island who would not have gladly died to protect her from harm.
Her heart was tender and good, and if she heard of any persons who were ill or in trouble, she was not contented till she had done her utmost to relieve them. Her blooming countenance was radiant with smiles and animation, and she was beautiful, too, as she was amiable. The poets of Gracia used to liken her to a graceful sea-bird floating on the calm bosom of the deep, as, followed by her attendant maidens, as was her daily custom, she tripped across the flowery mead, or through the shady woods, or along the yellow sands, herself the fairest and most agile of them all!
The Princess and her youthful maids loved to pluck the sweet-scented flowers to make chaplets for their hair, or wreaths to twine round their sylph-like forms. At other times they would amuse themselves by dancing on the smooth sands, or they would plunge fearlessly into the water, and would sport like sea-nymphs in the clear bright waves within the coral reefs, while the rocks and adjacent woods rang with their joyous laughter.
The Princess also had a beautiful bower, where none but her own attendants dared intrude. It was formed of branches of red and white coral, beautifully polished and interlaced. The roof was covered with the long, thick leaves of the palmetto, and the outside walls were built of the long-enduring bamboo, so closely placed together that neither wind nor rain could penetrate; while the whole was shaded by a wide-spreading palm-tree, and surrounded by a grove of cocoa-nut and plantain-trees. In front, through an opening in the wood, the sands of the sea-shore and its fantastic-shaped rocks, and the blue ocean, glittering in the sunshine, could be seen.
Here the Princess Serena and her attendants used to retire during the heat of the day, to partake of their simple but delicious repasts of bread made from the quick-growing cariaca or the cassada root, the nutritive and luscious plantain, the heads of the cockarito-palm, and boiled pappaws, with sea-side grapes, and other fruits and vegetables too numerous to mention; or they would ply the distaff, or would make dresses of feathers and baskets of reeds, while they amused themselves with pleasant talk; and thus their days passed innocently and happily away.
Story 6--Chapter II.
In the very deepest part of the Atlantic Ocean, directly under the Equator, Neptune, the Sovereign of the Seas, once held his regal court. His palace was of vast dimensions, capable of holding all the Ocean Spirits, the rulers and guardians of the realms of water below, and of all the islands which adorn its surface. Its outside was composed of huge black rocks piled up like mountains, one upon another, and covered with dark masses of seaweed, which, floating upward, appeared like a forest of trees, of a growth far more gigantic than the earth can produce, and yet it seemed but like lichens growing on the roof of a house in comparison with the size of the edifice. The inside was more magnificent than mortal eye has ever seen. There was one vast hall, pervaded by a green yet clear light, which came from above, and increased the grandeur and solemnity which reigned around. To say that the walls were of red coral and immense shells, each of which was as large as many a vessel which floats on the ocean, while pearls of surpassing brilliancy and whiteness were interspersed among them, and that the roof was of crystal of gorgeous tinge, can in no way picture the surpassing magnificence of the structure. At one end was a lofty throne, proportioned to the size of the building, of jet-black rock, glittering with that gold which the toil of man had won from the bowels of the earth, but which his carelessness had lost in the stormy sea. It was surrounded by many thousand other thrones, the seats of Neptune’s vassal Spirits—his Governors, Tritons, and other attendants. It must be understood that, once upon a time, whatever may now be the case, every fish which swims, every insect which crawls in the sea, had its governor and king. The largest was the King of the Whales. He was a vast monster of dark form, whose dwelling was in the regions of icebergs and glaciers at the North Pole. The fiercest was the King of the Sharks; he had sharp teeth, and eyes full of malignancy and hatred to the human race. He was the most wicked of all the Spirits. The fastest and most beautiful was the King of the Dolphins; the most unwieldy the King of the Porpoises; the ugliest the King of the Cat-fish; and the tallest the King of the Big Sea Serpents—for they all partook somewhat of the forms of the fish over whom they were placed to govern. Their thrones, too, were of appropriate forms; some sat on huge sea-eggs, others on shells. The King of the Whales sat on an iceberg, but the King of the Big Sea Serpents was obliged to twist himself in and out about the pillars of the hall to find room for his long body. It is impossible to describe their vast mysterious forms, shrouded as they were in their dark-green mantles of vapours and obscurity.