Вітер у вербах
The Piper at the Gates of Dawn
"ThinkofpoorOtter,waitinguptherebytheford!"
Portlyhadsoonbeencomfortedbythepromiseofatreat—ajauntontheriverinMr.Rat’srealboat;andthetwoanimalsconductedhimtothewater’sside,placedhimsecurelybetweentheminthebottomoftheboat,andpaddledoffdownthebackwater.Thesunwasfullyupbynow,andhotonthem,birdssanglustilyandwithoutrestraint,andflowerssmiledandnoddedfromeitherbank,butsomehow—sothoughttheanimals—withlessofrichnessandblazeofcolourthantheyseemedtorememberseeingquiterecentlysomewhere—theywonderedwhere.
Themainriverreachedagain,theyturnedtheboat’sheadupstream,towardsthepointwheretheyknewtheirfriendwaskeepinghislonelyvigil.Astheydrewnearthefamiliarford,theMoletooktheboatintothebank,andtheyliftedPortlyoutandsethimonhislegsonthetow-path,gavehimhismarchingordersandafriendlyfarewellpatontheback,andshovedoutintomid-stream.Theywatchedthelittleanimalashewaddledalongthepathcontentedlyandwithimportance;watchedhimtilltheysawhismuzzlesuddenlyliftandhiswaddlebreakintoaclumsyambleashequickenedhispacewithshrillwhinesandwrigglesofrecognition.Lookinguptheriver,theycouldseeOtterstartup,tenseandrigid,fromoutoftheshallowswherehecrouchedindumbpatience,andcouldhearhisamazedandjoyousbarkasheboundedupthroughtheosiersontothepath.
