Appendices

I A. The Founding of Kath: Historical Note

At various times between the Eighth and Twelfth centuries A.D, expeditions were sent out from the Court of the Emperor of China. Their mission was to explore distant lands, and to establish trade routes to places that were not yet dreamed of by the barbarians of the West.

The records are not clear, but ships of these expeditions seem to have paid regular visits to the west coast of the North American continent. They came in search of furs and gold, and to harvest the pleasantly scented woods that grew so abundantly along what we now call the OregonCoast. It is curious that the tree now called 'Port Orford Cedar' is only found along that particular stretch of coastline, as is the Bay Laurel, or Myrtle wood tree.

I B. The Founding of Kath: Unrecorded Incident at Sea

The fleet of junks creeps slowly westward under a cloudy sky. Their trip has been a profitable one, and they are heavily laden with precious metals, fragrant woods, furs, and slaves. They will be most welcome when they return to the Emperor's Court from the Eastern Lands.

As the sun dips behind a bank of heavy clouds, lanterns are hoisted to the top of each mast, changing the cluster of clumsy junks into a swarm of fireflies, skimming the choppy seas. With darkness comes gusty winds that blow them out of their course. They are driven north and east into higher latitudes, scattering the feeble lanterns in spite of all their efforts to keep the ships together.

The winds bring streaming rain, while lightning plays about the edges of the clouds. The ships can do nothing but flee before the storm's gathering fury, rearing and plunging like oxen beset by wolves. Gaily painted sails blow out, scattering scraps of bright cloth and bamboo. Waves wash across the decks of the faltering ships, and only the strength and skill of their helmsmen keeps them from being swung broadside and smashed to kindling by the pounding seas. Lightning dances across the clouds in an almost constant blaze of light, striking down at the heaving water as though to whip it to even greater frenzies.

A final blaze of energy lights up the surface of the sea as far as can be seen through the sheets of rain. Forked tongues of fire strike downward at the tiny ships, licking at the cresting waves to hang curtains of pale blue fire all around them. The junks spin and twist as their helms are wrenched free of terrified hands. Sailors scream prayers to unheeding Gods as the ships plunge through the curtains of fire. It is as though they are dropping over the edge of the world!

The helpless men cringe, waiting for the seas to crush them, but the expected blows do not fall. The winds die with a last frustrated howl, and the seas smooth out as though calmed by a mighty hand. The admiral of the tiny fleet scans the ocean for sight of his other ships. One, two, and two more flickering lanterns are rekindled. Five ships out of the seven that had been his.

The admiral knows in his heart that he will never again see the other two. The clouds are shredding and blowing away, and he looks for the familiar stars that would guide them once more to their homes and families. Then, the stars do break through in all their multi colored glory, and his stout heart almost fails him. Among all of those stars, he can not find a single constellation that he knows!