Chapter II

Heigho, heigho! sang the sailors of a gay Norwegian bark as they cast anchor in a sheltered bay on the coast of Norway to escape the tempest, which had been tossing them about on the open sea. What though the south wind had driven them a few miles out of their course? The sunrise of another day would find them safe at home after their long voyage. In fancy, they could already see the dear ones on the shore, waving, smiling, welcoming! So "heigho, heigho for to-morrow!" sang they.

Only Daland, the captain, was full of gloom. Impatient was he, also, for had he not expected to spend that very night by his own fireside with his daughter Senta? And now to wait here, so near and yet so far, with a raging sea between him and his peaceful home, was an ordeal, indeed. To battle with those angry waves had been no easy task, either. A little sleep would not harm him, thought he.

Now you must know that in those days the seas were full of dread pirates and bold robbers who prowled about seeking plunder, and so, before Daland lay down to sleep, he called his steersman and bade him keep sharp watch. The steersman did--for a little while. But he, too, was tired. First he sang right lustily a merry song about the distant climes where he had traveled, and of the kind winds that would send him back to his sweetheart. Soon, however, his voice faltered; it grew fainter and fainter. His head nodded once, twice. He, too, was asleep.

Then, while no one watched, slowly, quietly, out of the west, came an old weather-beaten vessel with red, red sails, straight into that very bay. Only you and I know whence it came, and how endless had been its wanderings. So silently did it sail, so ghostly were its movements, that no one on all Daland's boat heard a single sound. No one heard the noiseless dropping of the anchor, the lowering of those red, red sails. Nor did any one hear the sigh of relief with which the worn sailors crept away to their berths, nor see the hope and longing that lit their pale faces as they saw their captain spring eagerly to the shore.

Perhaps the captain stamped too heavily up and down on the wet sand, glad to feel the solid earth under his feet once more. Perhaps he raised his arms to heaven and cried aloud to God to help him now find the maiden fair who would love him truly forever. Why, I do not know, but just then Daland awoke with a start.

A strange vessel alongside! How he chided the drowsy steersman! A strange captain on the shore! Quickly he leaped to the sand to greet him!

"Whence come you?" asked Daland, "and whither are you going?"

The Dutchman replied but little. "Holland," he said, "and a wanderer seeking shelter for his vessel from the storm." Home he had none, nor wife, nor child, and gladly would he pay of his treasures for one night at somebody's hospitable hearth.

And while Daland was marveling at this strange tale, and had begun to tell of his own home so near and yet so far away, the stranger, at a sign, had received a huge chest from his ship and was opening it before Daland's eyes.

If "all the wild flowers of the forest, all the lilies of the prairie," all the glorious colors of sunrise and sunset, if the rainbow itself, had been packed away in a chest to be suddenly opened before you, perhaps you would have been surprised, too. Gold was there, and silver was there, and the white sheen of pearls, and the bright sparkle of diamonds, and the deep glow of rubies, all there dancing, glittering, in Daland's astonished eyes. Was this some marvelous dream? When he found that the treasure was real, he remembered Senta, and offered the Dutchman his home for the night, telling him that his daughter ...

The Dutchman caught the word "daughter." Had Daland a daughter? Would he give her to him for a wife? And Daland, who had been thinking what a fine husband such a man, with a ship full of treasures, would be for his daughter, lost no time, and said yes.

Then hope came again to the heart of the Dutchman. He was impatient to see this maiden who, he silently prayed, might be the one to deliver him from his fate. And while he prayed, the wind changed, the clouds broke, a ray of sunshine peeped through, the sea became smooth as glass.

"You'll see her this day," said Daland.

And so, bidding the sailors raise anchor, Daland went aboard his boat, the Dutchman aboard his, and with a heigho, heigho, they sailed out of the bay.