For look! appeareth a flotilla yonder,45
mosquito-craft that cleave the rolling tide;
and with their flowing sails the surges sunder,
from the small island next the cont'inent side:
The crews rejoicing, in their hope and wonder
could gaze on naught save what their hearts had joy'd.
"Who may be these?" each ask'ed him in amaze;
"What law be theirs, what ruler, what their ways?"
The boats appearèd in a manner new46
long-built and narrow-beamed, for swiftness plan'd;
mats were the wings wherewith they lightly flew
from certain palm-fronds wove by cunning hand:
The people wore that veritable hue,
Phaeton's boon to many a burning land,
when work'ed his rashness on the world such ills:
So Padus knows and Lampethusa feels.
They come costumèd all in cotton gear,47
of hues contrasting, stripèd, chequed, and white;
one zone-girt cloth around the waist they wear,
other they throw on back in airy plight:
Above the waist-band each brown form is bare;
dag-targe and matchet[1] are their arms of fight:
Scull-cap on head; and, as they wend their way,
shriek shrilly shawms, and harsh-voiced trumpets bray.
- ↑ African daggers and short swords.
