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Updated: June 16, 2025
In the northern part of the town are many religious temples, with their tall towers like slender pyramids, tapering to a point. They are curious things, and surprisingly well preserved. The interiors of these temples are uninteresting. Nofuhl says the religious rites of the Mehrikans were devoid of character.
It has a diadem of feathers on the head, and as we sat smoking upon the deck this evening I remarked to Nofuhl that it might be the portrait of some Mehrikan noble. Whereupon he said they had no nobles. "But the Mehrikans of gentle blood," I asked, "had they no titles?" "Neither titles nor gentle blood," he answered.
For an instant Nofuhl looked at the arm wonderingly, as did we all, then with sudden intelligence he seized the outstretched hand in his own, and moved it up and down. This was interesting, for Nofuhl tells me it was a form of greeting among the ancient Mehrikans. While all this was going on we had moved into the great circular hall beneath the dome.
Was it not the capital of the ancient Mehrikans?" "Not the capital," he answered, "but their largest city. Its population was four millions." "Four millions!" I exclaimed. "Verily, O Fountain of Wisdom, that is many for one city!" "Such is history, my Prince! Moreover, as thou knowest, it would take us many days to walk this town." "True, it is endless."
This vast country was alive with noisy industries, the nervous Mehrikans darting with inconceivable rapidity from one city to another by a system of locomotion we can only guess at. There existed roads with iron rods upon them, over which small houses on wheels were drawn with such velocity that a long day's journey was accomplished in an hour.
But the barbarian understood with difficulty and they had much trouble in conversing, chiefly from reason of Nofuhl's pronunciation. He afterward told me that this man's language differed but little from that of the Mehrikans, as they wrote it eleven centuries ago. When he finally arose in talking with Nofuhl I could better observe him.
My heart grew soft over the ancient rug, and I caught a foolish look in Lev-el-Hedyd's eye. As we climbed the mouldering stair to the floor above I expressed surprise that cloth and woodwork should hold together for so many centuries, also saying: "These Mehrikans were not so unworthy as we think them."
"Thou hast never told us, O Nofuhl! the cause of their disappearance." "There were many causes," he answered. "The Mehrikans themselves were of English origin, but people from all parts of Europe came here in vast numbers. Although the original comers were vigorous and hardy the effect of climate upon succeeding generations was fatal.
And of Frank and Russyan vessels he put an end to as many more; also sundry Talyans and British. Lev-el-Hedyd. Bismillah! But that was good! What, O Nofuhl, is the Persian of that name Ztazenztrypes? Nofuhl. None can tell with certainty. To the Mehrikans it signified victory, or something similar. Other miracles were achieved by the Mehrikans that day.
At what period did this occur? Nofuhl. Early in the twentieth century. I cannot recall the date, but it was never forgotten by the Mehrikans. Surely a just pride, for on that day they accomplished wonders. The Admiral Nev-r-sai-di on his ship the Ztazenztrypes was at one time surrounded by a dozen German men-of- war. And lo! he demolished all!
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