University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.
THE “ISLE OF EAGLES.”

A SHORT stay at the “Isle of Eagles” was
necessary to afford opportunity to Ali-Naro to
refit his vessels completely, and to select from
his entire force a number sufficient for his proposed
expedition to the island of Guzan, whither
he designed at once to escort the prince, his
guest. During this time, Selim had leisure to
examine the corsair's isle and its inhabitants,
and he found much to claim his admiration.
Possessed of boundless wealth, the accumultion
of his predatory career; and, moreover,
inspired by a rare taste, combined with an educated
mind, Ali-Naro had taken delight in beautifying
and enriching the little island which he
claimed as his own. The hand of art had shaped
the growth of nature, by refined cultivation,
and embellished every portion of the domain
with peculiar and appropriate graces. The luxuriance
of woods afforded scope for all that could
be achieved in forest architecture, and bosky
dells, sylvan grots, arbors, eaves, and labyrinthine
walks, extended from the eminence on
which Ali-Naro's castle was built, down to the
green terraces that sloped to the transparent bay.
Lovely white cottages dotted the landscape on
either side, and fragrant gardens, encircling these,
sent up continually a breath of perfume to the
heights.

Nor had beauty alone been considered, in its
sensuous aspect, by the planner of this corsair's
paradise. Usefulness possessed its share in the
adornment of the “Isle of Eagles.” Not only
were barracks, white-walled and neat, prepared
for the mariners on shore, but a large hospital,
supplied with all the aids of the healing art, provided
for the wants of those among the crews
who might be wounded or sick. A mosque for
prayer attested the reverence of the outlaws for
the forms of their religion, if it did not answer
for their observance of all the Koran's principles,
and workshops, fisheries, and fields of corn,
agreeably diversified the prospect, wherever,
from his chamber in the castle, Prince Selim permitted
his gaze to wander. Altogether, the
“Isle of Eagles” was a habitation fit for great
enjoyment, and all the luxury of peace. Strange
passion of alternation is that which sways the
heart of man. It transformed the rude and savage
pirate chief into the calm architect of rural
scenery—the destroyer into the beautifier.

But not to remain long in his island retreat
was Ali-Naro's intention, though the prince
would gladly have lingered. In truth, though
surrounded by devoted comrades and friends,
the corsair chief found little pleasure in the habitation
which he had created and made lovely,
for the enjoyment of another—that unfortunate
son whose bones had so long lain upon the “Isle

of Death,” and now, bedewed with the tears of
handreds who loved the youth, were laid silently
away in a sequestered grove beside a stream that
murmured its gentle requiem as it rippled to the
seashore. No display of grief had been permitted
on the occasion of re interring poor Ali's
remains—only a simple procession of rough men,
and women leading their children by the hand,
went out from the castle's porch, and proceeded
silently and solemnly to the place of sepulture.
Prince Selim once more offered up a prayer—the
last, and all was over with the corsair's erring son.

But not with the father's sorrow. After the
burial, though Ali Naro spoke not of the dead,
it was easy to perceive that his thoughts were
busy. No more repose, no more of quiet existence
for the pirate chieftain. Action—quick,
energetic existence, the storm, the tumult of
battle—these were the alternations craved for by
the strong man's spirit. He hurried, therefore,
all preparations necessary for the departure of
his vessels, and bidding adieu to those who remained,
under the lieutenant of the island, set
sail once more from the beautiful isle, to try
again the fortunes of his ocean career.

In the rude but disciplined community of outlaws,
which formed the crews of Ali-Naro's little
fleet, his departed son had held the post of lieutenant,
and on taking their departure from the
“Isle of Eagles,” the captain signified to his
comrades that, on this expedition, Prince Selim
should be obeyed as second in command. The
corsair directed this, at once as a mark of his esteem
for the prince, and for the purpose of accustoming
his men to regard the latter as one
of their number, with authority to lead them,
should aught befall their real commander. Selim
at first objected to this distinction, but acceded
to the request of Ali-Naro, who enforced it by
many good reasons.

“We know not,” said the old chief, “what
may have occurred in the island of Guzan during
your absence. It is probable that the king,
your father, may be no more, and your brothers
in possession of the throne; or, what is likelier
still, engaged in civil war for the succession.
No better conduct may be looked for than to disgrace
their father's memory.”

“Talk not of my dear father's death,” cried
Selim, with emotion. “He was in good health,
when we left Guzan, and will I trust be spared
to his country many a year.”

“It is best to provide for emergences, nevertheless,”
rejoined Ali-Naro, “and for this reason,
I desire you to follow my directions. Should
such an event as your father's decease (which
Allah forbid!) have taken place, there is no reason
to suppose that your brothers will regard
your sudden appearance with much pleasure.
They may intrigue, in fact, they may attempt
once more your assassination. I would have
you prepared for this, with faithful followers, who
will protect your life, and assist you in asserting
whatever-rights you may claim. Therefore,
my dear prince, I would have you divide with
me the authority of the expedition, undertaken
for your interest, and let me announce you to my
comrades, as my lieutenant.”

“Be it so, then, Ali-Naro!” answered the
prince. “I will endeavor to act as becomes a
brave man.”

“That will be but natural to you,” said the
corsair, as he turned away to communicate to his
men the position in which the prince (already
very popular with all) would henceforth stand to
them. The announcement was received with a
hearty response by all the swarthy rovers.

In accordance with his new responsibility Selim
devoted himself assiduously to the performance
of every duty incumbent upon the second
in command. He shared with Ali-Naro the
task of drilling and exercising the men, superintended
their labors, adjusted their differences,
and oftentimes participated in the rough sports
with which they were accustomed to while away
the tedium of a calm; and in a brief space there
was not one of these sons of adventure, who
would not have followed the prince through
every peril, and stood by him to the death in any
quarrel.

But the Indian Ocean was to be traversed for
nearly its whole extent before the island of Guzan
could be reached, and in order to replenish
the supply of fresh water, the “Green Bird”
cast anchor, one delightful evening, at the mouth
of a clear river which flowed from a range of
mountains that formed one of the sea-walls of
an island called Divonduron. Here, with several
boat's crews of the hardy mariners, Prince
Selim disembarked, the men being all supplied
with skins and other vessels for the conveyance
of fresh water, which Ali-Naro knew could be
obtained in great abundance at this place. And
it is here that we shall take the liberty of preceding
the arrival of the prince, and advert to another
character, not yet introduced to the reader,
but who will be hereafter involved in the fortunes
of our story.

The island of Divonduron was the seat of an
extensive kingdom, which boasted several cities
of great splendor, and many rich villages both
inland and seaboard. It was governed by an
old monarch, who, although rather rigid in his
rule, was, nevertheless, quite popular with his
people, and it possessed not only wealthy towns,
brave citizens, and a good king, but moreover
the most beautiful princess imaginable; in the
person of the king's daughter, the charming Azna-Alwaz.
With the loveliness of this wonderful
maiden all the painters of the kingdom were
in ecstasies, whilst all the priests prayed daily
for her health, and every mother on the island
wished devoutly for such a handsome daughter.
When first born, the sagest counsellors of the
king went into transports as they beheld her
lying in her cradle, and prophesied all sorts of
good fortune for the happy infant. The good
king, her father, was, of course, almost beside
himself, gazing continually upon the dear child,
and decreed at once that she should be called
Azna-Alwaz, which in the language of the country,
signifies “Beautiful Diamond.”

As the young princess grew up to maidenhood,
she grew if possible more graceful and lovely in
form and feature, whilst her mind became the
abode of purity and her heart the temple of
goodness. It was no wonder, then, that all the
youths of her father's kingdom should adore her,
or that the fame of her perfections should travel
beyond the borders of Divonduron, and inspire
the princes of neighboring countries with an intense
desire to behold and possess the marvellous
maiden. Notwithstanding this, however, nature
had given to Azna-Alwaz so much good sense
and discretion, that she became neither vain nor
haughty, but preserved a modest demeanor that
won all hearts to her service.

From kingdoms near and far arrived continually
a succession of ambassadors, with portraits
of young monarchs, who ardently wished to
prove themselves worthy of esponsing the fair
Azna-Alwaz. These messengers extolled the
virtne of their respective masters, and portrayed
the felicity which any princess would be likely to
enjoy in a union with such royal excellence. At
the same time, with many genufiections, they
threw themselves, one after another, before the
maiden, and laid the portraits of young, old and
middle-aged, short, tall and medium, dark, light,
and dubious, suitors at her beautiful feet. But
Azna-Alwaz merely glanced at them without
manifesting, or even feeling any emotion of in
terest for the handsomest. Thus the years passed,
till the princess had attained her sixteenth
summer, at which time it became necessary, in
accordance with an ancient law of the land, that
the heir-apparent to the throne should select a
partner. But Azna-Alwaz still exhibited no
preference for any of her many admirers.

It was then that the king, her father, after kissing
her tenderly, spoke to her in these words:
“O, Azna-Alwaz, painful is it for me to compel
you to think of marrying, for by so doing I must
inevitably lose your sweet presence. Nevertheless,
the custom of our land must be obeyed. It
is time, therefore, my dear child, that you should
prepare to unite yourself with some prince worthy
of your hand. But of the many who solicit
this honor, choose, then, O, my daughter, one
whom you can love, and espouse him immediately;
so shall the laws be obeyed, and the power
and extent of our sovereignty enlarged.”

“Sire,” replied the beautiful princess, “I
confess there is none among all these suitors who
can awaken in my bosom the feeling of love;
nevertheless, I cannot refuse to comply with the
wishes of my kind father, and I will marry the
prince whom your majesty's wisdom shall think
fitting to be my husband.”

The old king embraced his daughter with great
affection. “Heaven will reward your obedience,
my child,” he cried. “And if you will abide by
my choice, I think I can select a partner who is
every way fitted to make my daughter happy.
I mean the prince of Caranor.”

Azna-Alwaz exhibited no emotion at hearing
the name of this suitor mentioned by her father.
The young prince had often visited her father's
kingdom, and was now very shortly expected to
arrive. Azna-Alwaz had seen and perhaps admired
him, for the prince of Caranor was a man
whom ninety-nine women out of a hundred would
have fallen in love with at first sight, so favored
was he by nature with a handsome form, an intelligent
face, and amiable manners. Yet with
all these advantages, he had failed to make an
impression on the heart of our lovely princess.

However, it was no more customary for maidens
to marry for love in those days than it is at
present; so it made little difference to the old
monarch of Divonduron whether Azna-Alwaz liked
or disliked the person he had chosen, so long
as she was contented to marry him. Consequently,
the wedding preparations were immediately
ordered, and the prince of Caranor was
made acquainted with his sudden good fortune.