The Last American | Page 2

Nofuhl, however, is sure we are further North.

12th May

What a change has come over Nofuhl! He is the youngest man aboard.
We all share his delight, as our discoveries are truly marvellous. This
morning while I was yet in my bunk he ran into the cabin and,
forgetting our difference in rank, seized me by the arm and tried to drag
me out. His excitement so had the better of him that I captured little
meaning from his words. Hastening after him, however, I was amazed
to see such ancient limbs transport a man so rapidly. He skipped up the
narrow stairs like a heifer and, young though I am, it was faster than I
could follow.
But what a sight when I reached the deck! We saw nothing of it
yesterday, for the dusk of evening was already closing about us when
we anchored.
Right ahead, in the middle of the bay, towered a gigantic statue, many
times higher than the masts of our ship. Beyond, from behind this
statue, came the broad river upon whose waters we were floating, its
surface all a-glitter with the rising sun. To the East, where Nofuhl was
pointing, his fingers trembling with excitement, lay the ruins of an
endless city. It stretched far away into the land beyond, further even
than our eyes could see. And in the smaller river on the right stood two
colossal structures, rising high in the air, and standing like twin
brothers, as if to guard the deserted streets beneath. Not a sound
reached us--not a floating thing disturbed the surface of the water.
Verily, it seemed the sleep of Death.
I was lost in wonder.
As we looked, a strange bird, like a heron, arose with a hoarse cry from
the foot of the great image and flew toward the city.
"What does it all mean?" I cried. "Where are we?"
"Where indeed!" said Nofuhl. "If I knew but that, O Prince, I could tell
the rest! No traveller has mentioned these ruins. Persian history
contains no record of such a people. Allah has decreed that we discover
a forgotten world."
Within an hour we landed, and found ourselves in an ancient street, the
pavements covered with weeds, grass, and flowers, all crowding

together in wild neglect. Huge trees of great antiquity thrust their limbs
through windows and roofs and produced a mournful sight. They gave
a welcome shade, however, as we find the heat ashore of a roasting
quality most hard to bear. The curious buildings on either side are
wonderfully preserved, even sheets of glass still standing in many of
the iron window-frames.
We wandered along through the thick grass, Nofuhl and I, much
excited over our discoveries and delighted with the strange scene. The
sunshine is of dazzling brightness, birds are singing everywhere, and
the ruins are gay with gorgeous wild flowers. We soon found ourselves
in what was once a public square, now for the most part a shady grove.
(Afterward ascertained to be the square of the City Hall.)
As we sat on a fallen cornice and gazed on the lofty buildings about us
I asked Nofuhl if he was still in ignorance as to where we were, and he
said:
"As yet I know not. The architecture is much like that of ancient
Europe, but it tells us nothing."
Then I said to him in jest, "Let this teach us, O Nofuhl! the folly of
excessive wisdom. Who among thy pupils of the Imperial College at
Ispahan would believe their venerable instructor in history and
languages could visit the largest city in the world and know so little
about it!"
"Thy words are wise, my Prince," he answered; "few babes could know
less."
As we were leaving this grove my eyes fell upon an upturned slab that
seemed to have a meaning. It was lying at our feet, partly hidden by the
tall grass, having fallen from the columns that supported it. Upon its
surface were strange characters in bold relief, as sharp and clear as
when chiselled ten centuries ago. I pointed it out to Nofuhl, and we
bent over it with eager eyes.
It was this:
ASTOR HOUSE
"The inscription is Old English," he said. "'House' signified a dwelling,
but the word 'Astor' I know not. It was probably the name of a deity,
and here was his temple."
This was encouraging, and we looked about eagerly for other signs.
Our steps soon brought us into another street, and as we walked I

expressed my surprise at the wonderful preservation of the stone work,
which looked as though cut but yesterday.
"In such an atmosphere decay is slow," said Nofuhl. "A thousand years
at least have passed since these houses were occupied. Take yonder oak,
for