daughter of Kubla, the great Khan."

"A cold and beautiful princess," says Marco Polo.

"She is not a cold and beautiful princess," says the sea-captain.
"She is warm as the sun in early June, and she may be beautiful and
a princess, but we all think of her as Golden Bells, the little girl
in the Chinese garden."

"Did you ever see her?" says Marco, eagerly. "Tell me."

"I saw her before I left," says the sea-captain. "I was at the
Khan's palace of Chagannor," says he, "seeing of the chief of the
stewards was there anything I could get for him, and I in foreign
parts. And as I was being rowed back along the river by my ten
brawny sailormen, what did I pass but the garden of Golden Bells.

"And there she was by the river-side, a little brown slip of a girl
in green coat and trousers, with a flower in her dark hair.

"And I lower my head in reverence as we pass by. But I hear her
low, merry voice, by reason of which they call her Golden Bells.

"'Ho, master of the vessel.' she calls. 'Where do you go?'

"And the sailors back water with a swish, and I stand up respectfully,
for all she is only a slip of a girl.

"'I go to foreign parts, Golden Bells,' I tell her; 'to far and
dangerous places, into the Indian Ocean. To the Island of Unicorns