Prev | Current Page 209 | Next

Austin, Mary Hunter, 1868-1934

"The Trail Book"

They would lie loafing about the
beaches and all of a sudden anger would run among them like thin fire in
the savannahs, which runs up the sap wood of the pines, winding, and
taking flight from the top like a bird. Then they would stab one another
in their rages, or roast an Indian because he would not tell them where
gold was. For they could not get it out of their heads that there was
gold. They were looking for another Peru.
"Toward the last, Ayllon had to sleep in his ship at night so jealous
his captains were of him. He had a touch of the swamp fever which takes
the heart out of a man, and finally he was obliged to show them the
three-plied rope of pearls to hold them. To just a few of his captains
he showed it, but the Indian boy he had taken to be his servant saw them
fingering it in the ship's cabin and sent word to the Chief Woman."
The sun rose high on the lagoon as the Pelican paused in her story, and
beyond the rookery the children could see blue water and a line of surf,
with the high-pooped Spanish ships rising and falling. Beyond that were
the low shore and the dark wood of pines and the shining leaves of the
palmettoes like a lake spattered with the light--split by their needle
points.


Pages:
197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221
Rodzic Po Ludzku Podaruj Zycie Fundacja Iskierka Mam Marzenie Krwinka Życzenia Gucci Handbags Varna hotels Bulgaria projekty domów projekt domu