Копи царя Соломона
Our March into the Desert
ThenIsawwhathadhappened; wehadstumbleduponaherdofsleepingquagga,ontothebackofoneofwhichGoodactuallyhadfallen,andthebrutenaturallyenoughgotupandmadeoffwithhim. Callingouttotheothersthatitwasallright,IrantowardsGood,muchafraidlestheshouldbehurt,buttomygreatreliefIfoundhimsittinginthesand,hiseye-glassstillfixedfirmlyinhiseye,rathershakenandverymuchfrightened,butnotinanywayinjured.
Afterthiswetravelledonwithoutanyfurthermisadventuretillaboutoneo’clock,whenwecalledahalt,andhavingdrunkalittlewater,notmuch,forwaterwasprecious, andrestedforhalfanhour,westartedagain.
On,onwewent,tillatlasttheeastbegantoblushlikethecheekofagirl. Thentherecamefaintraysofprimroselight,thatchangedpresentlytogoldenbars,throughwhichthedawnglidedoutacrossthedesert. Thestarsgrewpaleandpalerstill,tillatlasttheyvanished; thegoldenmoonwaxedwan,andhermountainridgesstoodoutagainsthersicklyfacelikethebonesonthecheekofadyingman. Thencamespearuponspearoflightflashingfarawayacrosstheboundlesswilderness,piercingandfiringtheveilsofmist,tillthedesertwasdrapedinatremulousgoldenglow,anditwasday.
Stillwedidnothalt,thoughbythistimeweshouldhavebeengladenoughtodoso,forweknewthatwhenoncethesunwasfullyupitwouldbealmostimpossibleforustotravel.
