Серце темряви
Chapter 3
Therewerenosignsoflife,buttherewastheruinedroof,thelongmudwallpeepingabovethegrass,withthreelittlesquarewindow-holes,notwoofthesamesize;allthisbroughtwithinreachofmyhand,asitwere.AndthenImadeabrusquemovement,andoneoftheremainingpostsofthatvanishedfenceleapedupinthefieldofmyglass.YourememberItoldyouIhadbeenstruckatthedistancebycertainattemptsatornamentation,ratherremarkableintheruinousaspectoftheplace.NowIhadsuddenlyanearerview,anditsfirstresultwastomakemethrowmyheadbackasifbeforeablow.ThenIwentcarefullyfromposttopostwithmyglass,andIsawmymistake.Theseroundknobswerenotornamentalbutsymbolic;theywereexpressiveandpuzzling,strikinganddisturbing—foodforthoughtandalsoforvulturesiftherehadbeenanylookingdownfromthesky;butatalleventsforsuchantsaswereindustriousenoughtoascendthepole.Theywouldhavebeenevenmoreimpressive,thoseheadsonthestakes,iftheirfaceshadnotbeenturnedtothehouse.Onlyone,thefirstIhadmadeout,wasfacingmyway.Iwasnotsoshockedasyoumaythink.ThestartbackIhadgivenwasreallynothingbutamovementofsurprise.Ihadexpectedtoseeaknobofwoodthere,youknow.
