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Title: Siren LandAuthor: Norman Douglas* A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook *eBook No.: 0300571.txtLanguage: EnglishDate first posted: March 2003Date most recently updated: March 2003Production notes: Production notes: Words in italics in the bookare enclosed by underscores (_) in this eBookProject Gutenberg of Australia eBooks are created from printed editionswhich are in the public domain in Australia, unless a copyright noticeis included. We do NOT keep any eBooks in compliance with a particularpaper edition.Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check thecopyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing thisfile.This eBook is made available at no cost and with almost no restrictionswhatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the termsof the Project Gutenberg of Australia License which may be viewed online athttp://gutenberg.net.au/licence.htmlTo contact Project Gutenberg of Australia go to http://gutenberg.net.au-----------------------------------------------------------------A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBookTitle: Siren LandAuthor: Norman DouglasFirst published 1911NEW AND REVISED EDITIONNew York: Dodd, Mead & Company 1923Printed in Great BritainCONTENTSI. SIRENS AND THEIR ANCESTRYII. UPLANDS OF SORRENTOIII. THE SIREN ISLETSIV. TIBERIUSV. THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE BLUE GROTTOVI. BY THE SHOREVII. THE COVE OF CRAPOLLAVIII RAIN ON THE HILLSIX. THE LIFE OF SISTER SERAFINA
 
X. OUR LADY OF THE SNOWXI. ON LEISUREXII. CAVES OF SIREN LANDXIII THE HEADLAND OF MINERVAINDEX [omitted for this electronic edition]I. SIRENS AND THEIR ANCESTRYIt was the Emperor Tiberius who startled his grammarians with thequestion, what songs the Sirens sang? I suspect he knew more about thematter than they did, for he was a Siren-worshipper all his life,though fate did not allow him to indulge his genius till those lastfew years which he spent among them on the rock-islet of Capri. Thegrammarians, if they were prudent, doubtless referred him to Homer,who has preserved a portion of their lay.Whether Sirens of this true kind are in existence at the present dayis rather questionable, for the waste places of earth have beenreclaimed, and the sea's untrampled floor is examined and officiallyreported upon. Not so long ago some such creatures were still found.Jacobus Noierus relates that in 1403 a Siren was captured in theZuider Sea. She was brought to Haarlem and, being naked, allowedherself to be clothed; she learned to eat like a Dutchman; she couldspin thread and take pleasure in other maidenly occupations; she wasgentle and lived to a great age. But she never spoke. The honestburghers had no knowledge of the language of the sea-folk to enablethem to teach her their own tongue, so she remained mute to the end ofher days--a circumstance to be regretted, since, excepting in the Arabtale of "Julnar the Sea-born," little information has been handed downto us regarding the conversational and domestic habits of mediaevalSirens.In the royal archives of Portugal are preserved the records of acostly litigation between the Crown and the Grand Master of the Orderof Saint James, as to who should possess the Sirens cast up by the seaon the Grand Master's shores. The suit ended in the ting's favour: BEIT ENACTED--THAT SIRENS AND OTHER MARINE MONSTERS EJECTED BY THE WAVESUPON LAND OWNED BY THE GRAND MASTER SHALL PASS INTO THE POSSESSION OFTHE KING. This would show that Sirens were then fairly plentiful. Andone of the best authenticated cases is that recorded by the veraciousCaptain John Smith--he of Pocahontas fame. "I cannot here omit tomention," says he, "the admirable creature of God which in the year1610 I saw with these my own eyes. I happened to be standing, atdaybreak, on the shore not far from the harbour of St. John, when Iobserved a marine monster swiftly swimming towards me. Lovely was hershape; eyes, nose, ears, cheeks, mouth, neck, forehead, and the wholeface was as that of the fairest maiden; her hair, of azure hue, fellover her shoulders...." Altogether, a strange fish. The rest of thequotation will be found in Gottfried's _Historia Antipodum_.Consult also Gessner, Rondeletius, Scaliger, and other good folks,from whose relations it appears evident that Sirens were common enoughin their days and, doubtless for that reason, of little repute; forwhatever is common becomes debased, as the very word "vulgar" proves.
 
This perhaps helps to explain their fishy termination, for the oldestSirens were of bird kind. The change took place, I imagine, about thetime of Saint Augustine, when so many pagan shapes began to affect newvestments and characters, not always to their advantage. It influencedeven those born in Hellenic waters, whom we might have supposed tohave remained more respectable and conservative than the others.Thus Theodorus Gaza, whose name is a guarantee of good faith andintelligence--did he not write the first Greek grammar?--once relatedin a large and distinguished company (Pontanus was also present) howthat, after a great storm in the Peloponnesus, a sea-lady was cast upwith other jetsam on the beach. She was still alive and breathinghard; her face and body were "absolutely human" and not uncomely.Immediately a large concourse of people gathered round, but her sighsand heaving breast plainly showed how embarrassed she was by theirvulgar curiosity. Presently she began to cry outright. Thecompassionate scholar ordered the crowd to move away and escorted her,as best he could, to the water's edge. There, throwing herself intothe waves with a mighty splash, she vanished from sight. This one,again, partook rather of the nature of a fish than of a bird.In Greece, too, Sirens of every kind have ceased to sing.I remember a long-drawn, golden evening among the Cyclades. A spellhad fallen over all things; the movement of Nature seemed to bemomentarily arrested; there was not a sound below, but, overhead, thesunbeams vibrated with tuneful melodies, Janko, the fisherman, haddropped his oars, and our boat, the only moving object in thatpreternatural stillness, was drawn by an invisible hand towards theruddy pool in the west. But athwart our path lay a craggy islet, blackand menacing against the background of crimson conflagration. Soon itcame in upon us in swarthy confusion of rock and cloven ravine, a fewgleams of emerald in its sheltered recesses. Here if anywhere,methought, Sirens might still dwell unmolested. The curly-pated rascalsteered with cunning hand towards a Lilliputian inlet; like a trueGreek, he appreciated curiosity in every form. But he resolutelyrefused to set foot on shore. I began my explorations alone,concluding that he had visited the place before.It was no Siren islet. It was an islet of fleas. I picked them off myclothes in tens, in hundreds, in handfuls. Never was mortal nearerjumping out of his skin. Janko was surprised and shocked.Now, whether these fleas had inhabited the island from timeimmemorial, being degenerate descendants of certain heroic creaturesthat sailed thither in company of Jason and his Argonauts, or had beenleft there by shipwrecked mariners of modern days; how it came aboutthat they multiplied to the exclusion of every other living thing;what manner of food was theirs--whether, anthropophagous-wise, theypreyed upon one another or had learned to content themselves with thesilvery dews of morning, like Anacreon's cicada, or else had acquiredthe faculty of long fasting between rare orgies such as they enjoyedon that afternoon: these and other questions have since occurred to meas not unworthy of consideration. Mr. Hudson, in his _La Plata_, hasvexed himself with similar problems. But at that moment I was far toobusy to give any thought to such matters.Ay, they have deserted Greece, the Sirens. It was never more than a
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