Межзвёздный скиталец
Chapter 12
Theairwasstiflingwiththedustthatrosefromthewagonsandthemanyhoofsoftheanimals.Sothickwasthedustthatitwaslikemistorfogintheair,andthelowsunshonethroughitdimlyandwithabloodylight.
Notalonewasthelightofthissettingsunominous,buteverythingaboutmeseemedominous—thelandscape,myfather’sface,thefretofthebabeinmymother’sarmsthatshecouldnotstill,thesixhorsesmyfatherdrovethathadcontinuallytobeurgedandthatwerewithoutanysignofcolour,soheavilyhadthedustsettledonthem.
Thelandscapewasanaching,eye-hurtingdesolation.Lowhillsstretchedendlesslyawayoneveryhand.Hereandthereonlyontheirslopeswereoccasionalscrubgrowthsofheat-parchedbrush.Forthemostpartthesurfaceofthehillswasnaked-dryandcomposedofsandandrock.Ourwayfollowedthesand-bottomsbetweenthehills.Andthesand-bottomswerebare,saveforspotsofscrub,withhereandthereshorttuftsofdryandwitheredgrass.Watertherewasnone,norsignofwater,exceptforwashedgulliesthattoldofancientandtorrentialrains.
Myfatherwastheonlyonewhohadhorsestohiswagon.Thewagonswentinsinglefile,andasthetrainwoundandcurvedIsawthattheotherwagonsweredrawnbyoxen.Threeorfouryokeofoxenstrainedandpulledweaklyateachwagon,andbesidethem,inthedeepsand,walkedmenwithox-goads,whoproddedtheunwillingbeastsalong.
