watched the hatches with a sword and two bronze-tipped spears in his
hand. He would sink or swim with the ship; he would go down with his
treasure, or reach Sidon, the City of Flowers, and build a white house
among the palms by the waters of Bostren, and never try the sea again.

So he swore; and he would not let them cast the Wanderer overboard, as
they desired, because he had brought bad luck. "He shall bring a good
price in Tanis," cried the captain. And at last the storm abated, and
the Sidonians took heart, and were glad like men escaped from death; so
they sacrificed and poured forth wine before the dwarf-gods on the prow
of their vessel, and burned incense on their little altar. In their
mirth, and to mock the Wanderer, they hung his sword and his shield
against the mast, and his quiver and his bow they arrayed in the fashion
of a trophy; and they mocked him, believing that he knew no word of
their speech. But he knew it well, as he knew the speech of the people
of Egypt; for he had seen the cities of many men, and had spoken with
captains and mercenaries from many a land in the great wars.

The Sidonians, however, jibed and spoke freely before him, saying how
they were bound for the rich city of Tanis, on the banks of the River
of Egypt, and how the captain was minded to pay his toll to Pharaoh
with the body and the armour of the Wanderer. That he might seem the
comelier, and a gift more fit for a king, the sailors slackened his
bonds a little, and brought him dried meat and wine, and he ate till his
strength returned to him. Then he entreated them by signs to loosen the
cord that bound his legs; for indeed his limbs were dead through the
strength of the bonds, and his armour was eating into his flesh. At his
prayer they took some pity of him and loosened his bonds again, and he
lay upon his back, moving his legs to and fro till his strength came
back.