Page 80 - Four Thousand Years Ago by Geoffrey Bibby
P. 80

hillsides, in innumerable small villages and large isolated farms,
                                 growing their grain and olives, cultivating their orchards, and
                                 pasturing their cattle and pigs in the valleys and their goats on
                                  the hills.

                                        On the seacoasts lie the larger villages and towns, with fish­
                                  ing boats pulled up on the narrow beaches, together with an oc­

                                  casional larger cargo vessel. The craftsmen in gold and copper
                                  and precious stones, sitting in their open-fronted shops of brick

                                  and timber, can look down the steep streets to the bustle on the
                                  beach and beyond to the blue sea curving up to the horizon.
                                  And they talk, as shopkeepers and craftsmen will, of the difficul­

                                  ties of trade, how raw materials cost more than they used to,
                                  and labor is hard to come by, and the margin of profit infinitesi­
                                  mal. They speculate on the destination of the ship now loading

                                  on the beach, and tell the latest news and rumors of their sons
                                  and brotliers overseas. For there is scarcely a family among them

                                  which has not several members abroad. A coppersmith has a
                                  brother up north at Troy; he has been there five years now, liv­
                                  ing, as beseems an alien, outside the walls of the prosperous little

                                  stronghold at the entrance to the Dardanelles. He is buying up
                                  raw copper, and occasionally gold, from the hinterland of Asia

                                   Minor and from the merchant sailors who run the coastal trade
                                   of the Black Sea, and he sends it on, at a handsome profit, to his

                                   brother and the other members of his guild back home in Crete.
                                   It is always difficult to get raw materials at reasonable prices,
                                   they complain, and dream dreams of the profit that will accrue

                                   when the two ships which left a year and a half ago for the al­
                                   most mythical lands of the west come sailing in, loaded with

                                   Spanish copper, and with tin traded in from somewhere beyond
                                   even Spain.
                                         Travelers’ tales of the whole Mediterranean, of the Black

                                   Sea and of the wastes of the Atlantic can be heard in this little
                                   Cretan coastal town. Many of the craftsmen and merchants

                                   sailed far in their youth, and never weary of saying so. Some
                                   spent years in the service of the kings and nobles of Egypt;
                                   others have traded their jewelry and bronze daggers and axes

                                   among the coastal villages of Greece, to the islands of the
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