Page:Weird Tales volume 11 number 02.pdf/71

214 he was. His head was throbbing as though a dynamo were whirring within it. Something had happened, something terrible, something frightful, but what it was his poor brain could not recollect.

Again the soft breakers foamed over him. They felt delightfully cool against his poor, tired body. Off on the far horizon he could dimly make out a ship, a yellow ship with all sails set against the yellow sky, riding slowly upon the swell of the purple sea. The sails glistened as though they were of gold, like gold clouds piled up against the yellow sky. It was very unnatural, but then even the sea was unnatural, and also the fringe of palm-trees beyond him.

He rose weakly to his feet and waved his arms. Perhaps the ship would send out a small boat to rescue him. And then he commenced to meditate. To save him from what, and for what? Was he on an island or on a part of the mainland of Asia? His head began to throb again. It was burning, as though his mind were on fire. Still the ship sailed onward in the distance, a ghost-ship, a phantom-ship, a ship of imagery and dreams.

He felt as though he were standing on the edge of things. He knew not which way to turn. Before him might yawn a frightful abyss. His predicament was similar to that of a man who has been flung off the earth onto a new planet. Of course his thoughts were wild, for he was on the verge of delirium. Had he been in a shipwreck? His past was blotted out utterly as though it had been drowned in the purple sea.

As he stood there an insane desire took possession of him to get out to that golden ship. He waved his hands. He cried and screamed and moaned. The tears streamed down his face. He babbled incoherently. He craved companionship. He was as frantic as a helpless child, a child ruthlessly torn from its mother’s arms. He drooled at the mouth and prattled foolishly. Then he plunged into the purple sea. He would try to swim out to the golden ship. But the sea was gentle. He was seized in the soft arms of the waves and carried up onto the beach again. Time after time he fought his way into the water only to be washed back upon the beach.

At last he grew more calm. Some semblance of peace crept over him. With a sigh of weariness he threw himself at full length upon the sand. Now the purple of the sea was less vivid. It verged toward a bluish tone. The yellow haze of the sky grew more subdued. The glare lessened. But still the ship of the golden sails stood out upon the horizon like a lovely golden bird.

Lee Goona resigned himself to his fate. He was lost. Perhaps he was on an island without food or companionship. He was helpless. He fought to keep his nerves from again slipping beyond control. He decided that he would explore the country around him, but before doing so he would remain on the beach until the golden ship had faded from sight. It was too bad that he was unable to signal her, but he did not even have a match to light a fire even if he had had wood whereof to build it.

And then suddenly as he gazed off toward the far horizon he gave a start. The golden ship had veered in her course. He rubbed his eyes. Surely his vision was false! But no. The golden ship was sailing directly toward him. Of course it was still a great way out. Even now he might only be imagining that she was sailing toward the coral beach.

For a few minutes he gazed at the ship, spellbound. A great joy was rising within him. He tried to stifle it down, fearing it might only end in disappointment. If the ship changed her course now,