Этюд в багровых тонах
On the great Alkali Plain.
Hisfacewasleanandhaggard,andthebrownparchment-likeskinwasdrawntightlyovertheprojectingbones;hislong,brownhairandbeardwereallfleckedanddashedwithwhite;hiseyesweresunkeninhishead,andburnedwithanunnaturallustre;whilethehandwhichgraspedhisriflewashardlymorefleshythanthatofaskeleton. Ashestood,heleaneduponhisweaponforsupport,andyethistallfigureandthemassiveframeworkofhisbonessuggestedawiryandvigorousconstitution. Hisgauntface,however,andhisclothes,whichhungsobaggilyoverhisshrivelledlimbs,proclaimedwhatitwasthatgavehimthatsenileanddecrepitappearance. Themanwasdying—dyingfromhungerandfromthirst.
Hehadtoiledpainfullydowntheravine,andontothislittleelevation,inthevainhopeofseeingsomesignsofwater. Nowthegreatsaltplainstretchedbeforehiseyes,andthedistantbeltofsavagemountains,withoutasignanywhereofplantortree,whichmightindicatethepresenceofmoisture. Inallthatbroadlandscapetherewasnogleamofhope. North,andeast,andwesthelookedwithwildquestioningeyes,andthenherealisedthathiswanderingshadcometoanend,andthatthere,onthatbarrencrag,hewasabouttodie. “Whynothere,aswellasinafeatherbed,twentyyearshence,”hemuttered,asheseatedhimselfintheshelterofaboulder.
Beforesittingdown,hehaddepositeduponthegroundhisuselessrifle,andalsoalargebundletiedupinagreyshawl,whichhehadcarriedslungoverhisrightshoulder.
