The boat which bore the fishermen and maids unto the isle which smiled from out the sea was model for still others, builded slow for want of "adz" or tool to shape with grace the rounded contour of the cypress-built and steel-bound bark, which was the first attempt at ship for commerce or yet ship for war which long after followed.
The boat that carried the fishermen and women to the island rising from the sea became a model for others. These later vessels were built slowly due to a lack of proper tools, like adzes, needed to shape the graceful curves of cypress wood and steel-reinforced hulls. This pioneer craft was the forerunner of both merchant and warships that would follow much later.
"Steel," question ye? Aye, steel I think ye name the shining blade, the slab of metal welded to the hull, and thus had they this broadened band of "steel," that metal whose method of construction long was lost to science, industries, but was regained again, when centuries had flown by metal workers, "experts" in this thy land.
"Steel," you ask? Yes, steel is, I think, what you call the shining blade, the slab of metal welded to the hull. And so they had this broad band of "steel." Its method of making was long lost to science and industry. But it was regained, after centuries had flown, by metalworkers, "experts" in this land of yours.
"Steel" known to Atlantians first as spoil from out the ocean, from galley vast that drifted smitten, storm-tossed. Rent in twain on reef which led to death all boats that through dire misfortune sought to make a landing on the northern shore. A reef whose stony teeth set fast in many a gallant ship.
Atlanteans first encountered "steel" as salvage from the ocean, retrieved from a massive shipwreck. The vessel, battered by storms, had split in two upon a treacherous reef. This same reef, with its jagged rocks, had claimed many ships that, through misfortune, attempted to land on the northern shore. Its stone teeth had ensnared countless brave vessels.
A reef which still shoots upwards ’neath the waves, imperilling many a bark unto this day, so mountainous its bulk. And far in shore the rock did set, though hid by giant trees which once invited storm-tossed mariners a-starve for fruits and gurgling springs which forests deep enfolded.
A dangerous underwater reef still rises beneath the waves, threatening many ships to this day with its massive size. Further inland, the rock formation extended, though hidden by towering trees that once beckoned storm-weary sailors desperate for fruit and fresh water springs nestled deep within the forests.
The captain, a builder of the supple oar, a cook (and tyrant in his line was he) were cast ashore with one great galley's hulk and fell a prey to importuning of the kindly ones that peopled old Atlantis in its dawn as home of nation.
Three were cast ashore: the captain, a builder of supple oars, and a cook (a tyrant in his line of work) with the hulk of one great galley. They gave way to the pleading of the kindly people who lived in old Atlantis at the dawn of its life as a nation's home.
His a matchless mind, the captain's. Yielding knowledge not, but bartering for the leadership of fleet, if so ’twere builded by direction of his men who brought strong vessels for the journeys to far shores. And this was granted, but they did beswear him solemnly that of their race henceforth he would become on of the sons of their fair isle.
The captain had a matchless mind. He did not give away his knowledge. Instead he bargained for leadership of the fleet, if it were built under the direction of his men, who brought strong vessels for journeys to far shores. This was granted. But they made him swear solemnly that from then on he would become one of their race, one of the sons of their fair isle.
That there his dust should lie, did not the hungry sea, which cryeth for such fare, grasp ere he died with head in lap of slave, or wife who loved and mourned him, raised him high shaft of alabaster o’er the carven chest which held his ashes. Such the custom there.
He swore, too, that his dust would lie there, unless the hungry sea, which cries out for such food, seized him first. Otherwise he would die with his head in the lap of a slave, or of a wife who loved and mourned him. Then a tall shaft of alabaster would be raised for him over the carved chest that held his ashes. Such was the custom there.
And he, the foster child of that young nation, grew a man of might. The rudely fashioned craft first made was soon supplanted by the graceful barque that hands, grown skilful, through a tutoring brain, wrought wondrously. A barque whose sides bore gleaming gold with name inscribed and flowers carven, or yet a scene from nature drawn, of bird or graceful leopard.
As the nation grew, so did its foster child, becoming a powerful man. His early, crudely built vessels were quickly replaced by elegant ships. These were crafted by skilled hands guided by a keen mind. The ships' sides gleamed with gold, adorned with intricate carvings of names, flowers, and scenes from nature - birds and graceful leopards among them.
Tusked creatures, too, shone forth in gold upon the well-spiked sides of galleys of the nobles of the state, as building of great barques progressed.
Tusked creatures, too, shone in gold on the well-spiked sides of the galleys of the state's nobles, as the building of great ships advanced.
Yet through the years that first crude barque, part fashioned from the galley of the castaways, part from the fisher boat, held well its place—a boat of peace, which carried envoys to the darker land far up the sea, or yet to smiling islands set in southern seas; for stranger spices and such condiments as old Atlantis knew not till at last one, so skilled in foreign mixtures that his fame was great, came, well pleased to bide upon the island whose fame reached far.
Over time, that first simple ship, built partly from the wreckage of castaways and partly from fishing boats, proved its worth. This vessel of peace carried envoys to distant, mysterious lands up the coast and to idyllic islands in southern waters. They sought exotic spices and seasonings unknown to ancient Atlantis. Eventually, a renowned expert in foreign blends arrived, content to settle on the island whose reputation had spread far and wide.
And as the minds of men reached out to grasp the laws of other countries—other planets, a fleet was builded in whose strength and grace combined the cleverness of nations' round. Each boat a wonder for its strength and speed. Each boat, a marvel for its decoration, vied with other barques in richness.
As humanity's understanding expanded to encompass the laws of distant lands and planets, they constructed a fleet that blended the ingenuity of nations worldwide. Each ship was a marvel of strength and speed, its ornamentation rivaling that of its counterparts in opulence.
Flashing gems indeed were set about the crown of some fair sea-nymph, graved in gold or metal that doth linger ’neath the waves yet rusts not, nor is marred by beating waves nor play of monsters. Slaves who plied great oars or stood by messengers of murderous mood were once of foreign galley, mayhap, bent on slaughter: or were criminals who, not condemned to death, might linger in the service of their king—their nation.
Flashing gems were indeed set around the crown of some fair sea-nymph, engraved in gold or in a metal that can stay under the waves yet does not rust. Nor is it marred by beating waves or by the play of sea monsters. The slaves who worked the great oars, or stood beside messengers of murderous mood, had perhaps once belonged to a foreign galley bent on slaughter. Or they were criminals who, not condemned to death, might live out their lives in the service of their king, their nation.
Pinned were they to seat by chains in early day and thus were given time to ponder of their deeds. The captain of the fleet, ye call—a fleet which challenged sun-rays shot with gold, which cast its sheen for miles over quiet sea, or fought the waves as valiantly as tiger meets its foe—the captain of this royal fleet was Wanandred—captain of the hosts of sea. The meaning of the name? "Atlantian not by birth, but of the galley broke upon the reef."
In early days they were pinned to their seats by chains, and so were given time to ponder their deeds. The captain of the fleet, as you call him, was Wanandred. This fleet challenged the gold-shot rays of the sun and cast its sheen for miles over the quiet sea, or fought the waves as bravely as a tiger meets its foe. Wanandred was captain of this royal fleet, captain of the hosts of the sea. The meaning of the name? "Atlantian not by birth, but from the galley broken on the reef."
He came from far—from where pale faces met the pallid sun, the cold of icebergs. Skin-clad people, brave but cruel; knowing naught of guile but much of patience. Skilful with the oar, the spear, the mattock; not in arts nor crafts as southern nations. In that early day so wise the scattered people of the South they seemed to mock at God's creation, so complete the work turned from their hands.
He hailed from a distant land where pale-skinned people lived under a weak sun, surrounded by icy waters. These fur-clad folk were courageous yet harsh, lacking deceit but rich in endurance. They excelled at rowing, hunting, and digging, but not in the refined arts and crafts of southern cultures. In those ancient times, the scattered southern peoples appeared so advanced that their creations seemed to rival those of God himself.
Their brains seemed set to springs of Nature holden in the Hand that fashioned so completely that in time we gaze on growth, on color—on the changes wrought by atmosphere—on wave—play—toss of tide—almost on Time which creeps upon us! leaves us! on the clouds. On all that cometh from the One who doth create.
Their minds appeared attuned to nature's rhythms, guided by the hand that shaped them so perfectly. We marvel at growth, color, and the transformations caused by weather. We observe the dance of waves, the ebb and flow of tides, and even time itself as it sneaks up on us and then slips away. We gaze at the clouds and all that springs from the Creator.
And those swart men did emulate so well the ether strong was chained to build and bring from far some message light or stern as one dictated. Men, were they, who past and left but meager trace; so meager that the world today turns coldly from such page as I have here embellished with this history and speak: "He doth pervert!"
And those dark-skinned men imitated so well that the strong ether was chained to build, and to bring from far away some message, light or stern, as someone dictated. They were men who passed away and left only meager traces. These are so meager that the world today turns coldly from such a page as I have adorned here with this history, and says, "He distorts the truth!"
Those galleys of Atlantis? Eighty feet the longest galley set to war. The wood of cypress, tulip; harder yet a stuff was made from fiber mixed with gum and shaped at will in giant mould of ribbed wood. Thongs, made from the creepers of the jungle, serpent skin and sinews of the bear, borne far with skins from Northern lands, were aids to make the galley strong. Those boats of gum and fiber of the palm were light—were strong—and to the salted water of the sea impervious; but the sweet lake or river pierced with damp and failed to hold to shape the pulpy mass which useless grew.
The warships of Atlantis were impressive, with the largest galleys reaching 80 feet in length. They were constructed using cypress and tulip wood, along with a sturdy composite material made from fiber and resin, molded into shape using massive ribbed wooden forms. The ships were reinforced with straps made from jungle vines, snake skins, and bear sinews, as well as hides imported from northern regions. These boats, crafted from resin and palm fiber, were both lightweight and durable, resistant to seawater. However, they were vulnerable to fresh water from lakes and rivers, which could penetrate the hull, causing the material to soften and lose its shape, ultimately rendering the vessel useless.
Each galley held its men in shackles in that early day, and no fierce revolt—no captain smitten by rebellious crew. Yet kindness reigned withal, and kings bestowed some token of their favor upon all on feast days—days when vast pavilions built were named and blessed and the fleet received a store of things deemed needful in that olden time of which ye dream today.
In those early times, each ship held its crew in chains, preventing any violent uprising or mutiny against the captain. Yet, despite these harsh measures, kindness still prevailed. On special occasions, kings would show their generosity by giving gifts to all crew members. During these festivities, large tents were constructed, named, and blessed, while the fleet received supplies considered essential in that bygone era we now romanticize.
The crew of each wore costume made at fancy of the captain-galley's lord, who yet dared show no unkind mood to men that stern misfortune bound. And smote he one in anger, unprovoked, a punishment was meted out severely by the senate, by the king, and in disgrace he sat and plied the oar, where once he reigned supreme, for days ye count one hundred.
Each crew member wore a costume chosen by the whim of the galley captain, who dared not show any unkindness to men bound by harsh fate. If he struck a man in unprovoked anger, the senate and king would severely punish him. He would then sit in disgrace, rowing where he once ruled, for a hundred days.
If boat were named the "Vulture," of that early fleet (a name ye would not comprehend if it were spoken in the olden tongue) yet that same bird of foul portent, which drew its life from Nature's gifts and lived as now abhorred by men—if "vulture" were the name, the captain bravely decked, wore golden helm beat into shape of bird of carrion on his brow, and round each naked waist of toiling slave was wound a scarf embroidered with the symbol foul.
If a ship in that ancient fleet bore the name "Vulture" (a term you'd struggle to understand in its original language), it referenced the same ill-omened bird that still exists today, feeding on nature's offerings and despised by humans. The captain, adorned boldly, wore a golden helmet fashioned in the shape of this scavenging bird on his forehead. Each slave, laboring with bare torso, had a sash wrapped around their waist, embroidered with the vulture's vile emblem.
When storms beat on the casque, or cloak which wrapped each form, the crimsoned bird was stamped full plain. The prow showed boldly giant bird of prey.
When the storms battered their helmets and cloaks, the crimson bird emblem was clearly visible. The ship's prow proudly displayed a massive bird of prey.
The leopard, tiger, or yet lily, so at variance in its beauty pure to fiercer symbols, were the names employed. And all was writ so plain in symbols that the foeman read, and reading, shuddered as the fleet drew nigh; a menace to the "pirate," joy to them who loved Atlantis, gloried in her strength, her arts.
The leopard, the tiger, or else the lily, whose pure beauty is so unlike the fiercer symbols, were the names used. And all was written so plainly in symbols that the enemy could read it. Reading, he shuddered as the fleet drew near. It was a menace to the "pirate," and a joy to those who loved Atlantis and gloried in her strength and her arts.
One barque that made the fleet to nations by the sea a horror was the funeral barge, begirt with ghastly trophies of the passed and valiant warriors. Set with staves, red-painted, golden streamers broidered with white urns fell languidly or fierce upon the breeze. In the cage upon the tower sat the great and skilled embalmer. None so brave he be might sully sea with corpse or feed the foul, fierce creatures of the deep, Atlantis willed.
One ship that struck fear into coastal nations was the funeral barge, adorned with grim reminders of fallen heroes. Red-painted poles held golden banners embroidered with white urns, which hung limp or fluttered wildly in the wind. Atop the tower, in a cage, sat the master embalmer. Atlantis decreed that no one, no matter how brave, could pollute the sea with corpses or feed the vicious creatures of the deep.
Her sons were hers indeed, and on her breast must rest their ashes when the soul had fled. Thus to the shore they bore them, to great piles, the pyres that lit the night when Moon was dark and low Orion; and melted husk of them who fell in warfare. Slave or king, in death they equal shared the pomp and were the pride of people who as kin regarded every soul born on Atlantis’ shores.
Her sons truly belonged to her, and their ashes would rest on her breast after death. They carried them to the shore, to massive funeral pyres that lit up the moonless night when Orion hung low in the sky. The bodies of those who fell in battle were cremated there. In death, slave and king received equal honor, embodying the pride of a people who considered everyone born on Atlantis' shores as family.
When homeward bent, the galleys bearing dead did creep at rear of fleet. Low chanting smote the ears of warriors on the barques. A song of peace fell low. Soft sounds of sweet-toned instruments arose and split the curtain of the night or met the glancing sunbeams. Smote the strains fond ears all strained to catch a whispered word of love. Smote ears that drunk, but now, alas! would drink no more the voice of him beloved.
As the fleet returned home, ships carrying the fallen trailed behind. A solemn chant reached the ears of warriors on the vessels. A quiet song of peace drifted through the air. Gentle melodies from soft instruments pierced the night's darkness or mingled with the sun's rays. These tunes touched the ears of those desperately listening for a whispered word of love. They reached ears that once heard, but now, tragically, would never again hear the voice of their loved one.
Great bands of priests whose white robes showed the mark that boded ill—the fleshless bones as form of man portrayed—walked slowly to the massive quays and greeted all with blessings; raised voice in murmured chants and promised good to souls that left their husk at call of duty, country's need, and passed each token of the men who died, to weeping sire, or son, or yet a friend. And in their chambers dark the women mourned.
Groups of priests in white robes, adorned with ominous skeletal symbols, moved slowly towards the large docks. They greeted everyone with blessings, chanting softly and promising salvation to those who died in service to their country. They handed over mementos of the fallen to grieving fathers, sons, and friends. Meanwhile, women mourned in their darkened rooms.
The instruments for war were barbed missiles, shot from prow, from stern, from sides through missile-thrower simple, not complex. A wheel, a pulley, piles of seeming toys which opened jaws and crushed the bone or entered body with their barbed fangs. The spear three sided. The stave, the axe with biting blade, and fiery baubles peering from the box which gathered force from out the atmosphere, were later hung on every prow. And thus held war or struggle to maintain their right to merchandise.
The weapons of war were simple yet deadly: barbed projectiles launched from all sides of the ship through basic missile launchers. These seemingly harmless devices opened like jaws, crushing bones or piercing flesh with barbed tips. Three-sided spears, staves, and sharp-edged axes were common. Later, fiery orbs that drew power from the air itself were mounted on every ship's bow. With these tools, they waged war or fought to protect their trade rights.
In time of peace sweet strains the waves caressed and even slaves sang gaily, keeping time to rhythm of their blades; and garlands from fair hands were cast in showers when galley sailed afar. The banner of each boat showed name in symbol clear, or characters, and over every name was set the god each worshipped. Thus each captain's god was borne aloft; and as the sun shot up or sank beneath the water, seemingly, each man of all the fleet did lift his voice and cry:
In peacetime, gentle melodies drifted across the waves, and even slaves sang cheerfully, rowing in time to the music. Flowers rained down from onlookers as ships set sail. Each vessel's flag displayed its name in clear symbols or letters, with the captain's preferred deity depicted above. As the sun rose or appeared to sink beneath the horizon, every sailor in the fleet raised their voice in unison, calling out:
"We laud thee; God of all the gods who doth protect and hold in bonds of safety us—and ours—our land, our captain and this noble barque." So clearly rang across the water loud this cry when stars denoted midnight, or great Orion swinging far in space, and in his language held the token of a storm, or Venus dipped her golden head and Mars swung boldly into sight.
"We praise you, God above all gods, who protects and keeps us safe—us, our loved ones, our country, our leader, and this great ship." This cry echoed clearly across the water at midnight, marked by the stars, when Orion loomed large in the sky, signaling a coming storm, or when Venus set and Mars rose boldly into view.
And men upon the shore would shudder, or yet smile, according to their policy or nation. Thus they spake: "The dogs do prowl from fierce Atlantis’ shore!" Or thus: "We need protection, and it comes from dear Atlantis—sister in our need." And never greater or a braver fleet had borne the sun-light on its armoured sides since time began.
People on the shore reacted with fear or approval, depending on their politics or nationality. Some exclaimed, "The warmongers are coming from Atlantis' shores!" While others said, "We need protection, and Atlantis—our ally in this crisis—is coming to our aid." Never before had a larger or more formidable fleet sailed under the sun's gaze since the dawn of time.
Yea, that navy of Atlantis was a fixed mark, from time when first they builded from the wrecked boats, which grew to beauty as the years advanced. The captains of the ships composing fleet were men of mark whose fathers held the state to ancient laws. All, men of wealth and minds superior were theirs.
The Atlantean navy was a constant presence, evolving from salvaged vessels into an impressive fleet as time passed. The ship captains were notable figures, descended from families who upheld traditional laws. These leaders were all wealthy and exceptionally intelligent.
Yea, the government advanced, or punished for an act of discipline betrayed. A form of service study had the priests maintained. A man must fit himself by deep attention to the navigation rules, and also laws that govern planets high; and waves, which bore the impress of the higher waters, held in check by state of active planetary movement towards the zenith, bearing water held in check of ice or mist that reaches far beyond the lower cloud mass, only loosened by agitation of the poles, or of the planets swirling far in space at certain periods.
Yes, the government promoted men, or punished them for an act that betrayed discipline. The priests had kept up a form of study for the service. A man had to fit himself by close attention to the rules of navigation. He also had to study the laws that govern the planets on high, and the waves. The waves bore the imprint of the higher waters. These were held in check by the state of active planetary movement toward the zenith. They carried water held in check as ice or mist, which reaches far beyond the lower cloud mass. This water was loosened only by agitation of the poles, or of the planets swirling far off in space at certain periods.
Did the laws, so well contained in poise and in cohesion of the molecules of congealed force, but come astray through laxity of ether or electric band—which like a wall withholds one from its mate, the higher from the lower—all the seas might rise, submerge the world, or, tipping outwards, make world so dry that water force were known no more.
The laws are well held in balance and in the cohesion of the molecules of congealed force. But if they should go astray through a slackening of the ether or electric band (which, like a wall, keeps one from its mate, the higher waters from the lower), all the seas might rise and submerge the world. Or, tipping outward, they might make the world so dry that the force of water would be known no more.
Thus learned they to so control all force which man is subject to, yet knows not his subjection. Thus they held control of nations less endowed with knowledge. War they sought not; but when thrust upon them they were not afraid to seek and conquered every foe.
They mastered control over forces that influence humans, forces we're often unaware of. With this knowledge, they held sway over less advanced nations. They didn't seek war, but when forced into conflict, they faced it bravely and emerged victorious against every enemy.