she went away seawards with the huge grey Yann and the ravine widened,
and opened upon the world, and our rocking ship came through to the
light of day.

And all that morning and all the afternoon we passed through the
marshes of Pondoovery; and Yann widened there, and flowed solemnly and
slowly, and the captain bade the sailors beat on bells to overcome the
dreariness of the marshes.

At last the Irusian Mountains came in sight, nursing the villages of
Pen-Kai and Blut, and the wandering streets of Mlo, where priests
propitiate the avalanche with wine and maize. Then the night came down
over the plains of Tlun, and we saw the lights of Cappadarnia. We
heard the Pathnites beating upon drums as we passed Imaut and
Golzunda, then all but the helmsman slept. And villages scattered
along the banks of the Yann heard all that night in the helmsman's
unknown tongue the little songs of cities that they know not.

I awoke before dawn with a feeling that I was unhappy before I
remembered why. Then I recalled that by the evening of the approaching
day, according to all forseen probabilities, we should come to
Bar-Wul-Yann, and I should part from the captain and his sailors. And I
had liked the man because he had given me of his yellow wine that was
set apart among his sacred things, and many a story he had told me
about his fair Belzoond between the Acrotian hills and the Hian Min.
And I had liked the ways that his sailors had, and the prayers that
they prayed at evening side by side, grudging not one another their
alien gods. And I had a liking too for the tender way in which they
often spoke of Durl and Duz, for it is good that men should love their
native cities and the little hills that hold those cities up.