The Book of Lost Tales - J. R. Tolkien [196]
There wandering long, ’tis said, he came upon many hulls of wrecks rotting on the long gloomy beaches, and some were wrecks of many mighty ships of old, and some were treasure-laden. A lonely cabin looking westward he found at last upon the further shore, and it was made of the upturned hull of a small ship. An ancient man dwelt there, and Ælfwine feared him, for the eyes of the man were as deep as the unfathomable sea, and his long beard was blue and grey; great was his stature, and his shoes were of stone,32 but he was all clad in tangled rags, sitting beside a small fire of drifted wood.
In that strange hut beside an empty sea did Ælfwine long abide for lack of other shelter or of other counsel, thinking his ship lost and his comrades drowned. But the ancient man grew kindly toward him, and questioned Ælfwine concerning his coming and his goings and whither he had desired to sail before the storm took him. And many things before unheard did Ælfwine hear tell of him beside that smoky fire at eve, and strange tales of wind-harried ships and harbourless tempests in the forbidden waters. Thus heard Ælfwine how the Magic Isles were yet a great voyage before him keeping a dark and secret ward upon the edge of Earth, beyond whom the waters of Garsecg grow less troublous and there lies the twilight of the latter days of Fairyland. Beyond and on the confines of the Shadows lies the Lonely Island looking East to the Magic Archipelago and to the lands of Men beyond it, and West into the Shadows beyond which afar off is glimpsed the Outer Land, the kingdom of the Gods—even the aged Bay of Faëry whose glory has grown dim. Thence slopes the world steeply beyond the Rim of Things to Valinor, that is God-home, and to the Wall and to the edge of Nothingness whereon are sown the stars. But the Lonely Isle is neither of the Great Lands or of the Outer Land, and no isle lies near it.
In his tales that aged man named himself the Man of the Sea, and he spoke of his last voyage ere he was cast in wreck upon this outer isle, telling how ere the West wind took him he had glimpsed afar off bosomed in the deep the twinkling lanterns of the Lonely Isle. Then did Ælfwine’s heart leap within him, but he said to that aged one that he might not hope to get him a brave ship or comrades more. But that Man of the Sea said: ‘Lo, this is one of the ring of Harbourless Isles that draw all ships towards their hidden rocks and quaking sands, lest Men fare over far upon Garsecg and see things that are not for them to see. And these isles were set here at the Hiding of Valinor, and little wood for ship or raft does there grow on them, as may be thought;33 but I may aid thee yet in thy desire to depart from these greedy shores.’
Thereafter on a day Ælfwine fared along the eastward strands gazing at the many unhappy wrecks there lying. He sought, as often he had done before, if he might see perchance any sign or relic of his good ship from Belerion. There had been that night a storm of great violence and dread, and lo! the number of wrecks was increased by one, and Ælfwine saw it had been a large and well-built ship of cunning lines such as the Forodwaith then loved. Cast far up on the treacherous sands it stood, and its great beak carven as a dragon’s head still glared unbroken at the land. Then went the Man of the Sea out when the tide began to creep in slow and shallow over the long flats. He bore as a staff a timber great as a young tree, and he fared as if he had no need to fear tide or quicksand until he came far out where his shoulders