Всадник без головы

Chapter 1

           Theteamsareagainsetinmotion;and,afteradvancingtotheedgeoftheburnttract,withoutinstructionsfromanyone,areoncemorebroughttoastand.

           Thewhitemenonhorsebackdrawtogetherforaconsultation.Thereisneed:asallaresatisfiedbyasingleglancedirectedtothegroundbeforethem.

           Farastheeyecanreachthecountryisofoneuniformcolour—blackasErebus.Thereisnothinggreen—notabladeofgrass—notareednorweed!

           Itisafterthesummersolstice.Theripenedculmsofthegramineae,andthestalksoftheprairieflowers,havealikecrumbledintodustunderthedevastatingbreathoffire.

           Infront—ontherightandleft—totheutmostvergeofvisionextendsthesceneofdesolation.Overittheceruleanskyischangedtoadarkerblue;thesun,thoughclearofclouds,seemstoscowlratherthanshine—asifreciprocatingthefrownoftheearth.

           Theoverseerhasmadeacorrectreport—thereisnotrailvisible.Theactionofthefire,asitragedamongtheripegrass,haseliminatedtheimpressionofthewheelshithertoindicatingtheroute."Whatarewetodo?"

           Theplanterhimselfputthisinquiry,inatonethattoldofavacillatingspirit.

           "Do,uncleWoodley!Whatelsebutkeepstraighton?Therivermustbeontheotherside?Ifwedon’thitthecrossing,toahalfmileorso,wecangoup,ordownthebank—asthecasemayrequire."

           "But,Cassius:ifweshouldloseourway?"

           "Wecan’t.

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