Ностромо

           Butbeforehebegantopullhebentoncemoreoverthebrownstainonthegunwale.

           “Iknowthatthing,”hemutteredtohimself,withasagaciousjerkofthehead.“That’sblood.”

           Hisstrokewaslong,vigorous,andsteady.NowandthenhelookedoverhisshoulderattheGreatIsabel,presentingitslowclifftohisanxiousgazelikeanimpenetrableface.Atlastthestemtouchedthestrand.Heflungratherthandraggedtheboatupthelittlebeach.Atonce,turninghisbackuponthesunset,heplungedwithlongstridesintotheravine,makingthewaterofthestreamspurtandflyupwardsateverystep,asifspurningitsshallow,clear,murmuringspiritwithhisfeet.Hewantedtosaveeverymomentofdaylight.

           Amassofearth,grass,andsmashedbusheshadfallendownverynaturallyfromaboveuponthecavityundertheleaningtree.Decoudhadattendedtotheconcealmentofthesilverasinstructed,usingthespadewithsomeintelligence.ButNostromo’shalf-smileofapprovalchangedintoascornfulcurlofthelipbythesightofthespadeitselfflungthereinfullview,asifinuttercarelessnessorsuddenpanic,givingawaythewholething.Ah!Theywereallalikeintheirfolly,thesehombresfinosthatinventedlawsandgovernmentsandbarrentasksforthepeople.

           TheCapatazpickedupthespade,andwiththefeelofthehandleinhispalmthedesireofhavingalookatthehorse-hideboxesoftreasurecameuponhimsuddenly.