Потерянный континент: история Атлантиды
11. An Affair With The Barbarous Fishers
“Areyouafraidformyneck,then,Deucalion?”
“IhavenomindtobebereavedbeforeIhavetastedmyweddedlife.”
“Pish!Thereislittleenoughofdanger.Iwillstayandrideitout.Iamnotoneofyournervouswomen,sir.Butgoyou,ifyouplease.”
“Thereislittleenoughchanceofthatnow.”
Bloodflowedfromthemammoth’sneckwherethespikesofthecollartoreit,andwitheachdrop,sodidthetamenessseemtooozeoutfromitalso.Withwildsquealsandtrumpetingsitturnedandchargedviciouslydownthewayithadcome,scatteringlikestrawsthespearmenwhotriedtostopit,andmowingagreatswaththroughthecrowdwithitsmonstrousprogress.Manymusthavebeentroddenunderfoot,manykilledbyitsmurderoustrunk,butonlytheircriescametous.Thegoldencastle,withitscanopyofroyalsnakes,wasswayedandtossed,sothatwetwooccupantshadmuchadonottobeshotofflikestonesfromacatapult.ButItookabracewithmyfeetagainstthefront,andonearmaroundapillar,andclappedthesparearmroundPhorenice,soastooffermyselftoherasacushion.
Shelaytherecontentedlyenough,withherlovelyfacejustbeneathmychin,andthefaintscentofherhaircomingintomewitheverybreathItook;andthemammothchargedmadlyonthroughthenarrowstreets.Wehadoutstrippedthetaintofsmoke,andtheoriginalcauseoffear,butthebeastseemedtohaveforgotteneverythinginitsmadpanic.Itheldfuriouslyonwithenormousstrides,carryingitstrunkaloft,anddeafeninguswithitsscreamsandtrumpetings.
