As he looks out into the distance, he sees a little dark spot rise
on the horizon. His eagle-eye perceives that it is a ship. As it
comes nearer, it dances on the waves, and its white sails expand
like the wings of a giant swan. It is a beautiful, majestic object.
The young Mohammed rejoices at the spectacle, and says, in low
tones, to himself; "Some day I shall possess ships, too. Some day I
shall tread the deck of the great admiral's ship."
The ship glides over the glittering mirror of the deep, and comes
nearer and nearer, and the curious are now assembled on the shore to
gaze at it; for rarely do vessels seek the rocky promontory of
Bucephalus to land in the bay of Contessa. The peninsula is desolate
and barren, and there is nothing here for merchant-ships but the
tobacco for which this region is celebrated. A Turkish galleon comes
semi-annually for the taxes which the governor has levied, to bring
them to Stamboul to the coffers of the grand-sultan.
But the vessel now approaching is no Turkish galleon, but a
magnificent ship; and one can see on the deck, under the gold-
embroidered tent, a Turk reclining on cushions. Slaves in rich
attire are on their knees before him, others are behind him fanning
the flies away with fans made of peacock-feathers.
"Who can this great man, this stranger be?" ask the curious, who are
standing on the beach, gazing fixedly at the ship that has now
entered the little bay, and is steering toward the landing.
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