Спрут: Калифорнийская история

           Distantobjects,untilnowhidden,cameintoview,andastheradiancebrightened,Vanamee,lookingdownuponthelittlevalley,sawaspectacleofincomparablebeauty.AllthebudsoftheSeedranchhadopened.Thefainttintsoftheflowershaddeepened,hadassertedthemselves.Theychallengedtheeye.Pinkbecamearoyalred.Blueroseintopurple.Yellowflamedintoorange.Orangeglowedgoldenandbrilliant.Theearthdisappearedundergreatbandsandfieldsofresplendentcolour.Then,atlength,themoonabruptlysoaredzenithwardfromouttheveilingmist,passingfromonefilmyhazetoanother.Foramomenttherewasagleamofagoldenlight,andVanamee,hiseyessearchingtheshadeatthefootofthehill,felthisheartsuddenlyleap,andthenhangpoised,refusingtobeat.Inthatinstantofpassinglight,somethinghadcaughthiseye.Somethingthatmoved,downthere,halfinandhalfoutoftheshadow,atthehill’sfoot.Ithadcomeandgoneinaninstant.Thehazeoncemorescreenedthemoonlight.Theshadeagainengulfedthevision.Whatwasithehadseen?Hedidnotknow.Sobriefhadbeenthatmovement,thedrowsybrainhadnotbeenquickenoughtointerprettheciphermessageoftheeye.Nowitwasgone.Butsomethinghadbeenthere.Hehadseenit.Wasittheliftingofastrandofhair,thewaveofawhitehand,theflutterofagarment’sedge?Hecouldnottell,butitdidnotbelongtoanyofthosesightswhichhehadseensoofteninthatplace.Itwasneithertheglancingofamoth’swing,thenoddingofawind-touchedblossom,northenoiselessflittingofabat.