Boys -- Juvenile fiction; Fantasy literature; Nature -- Juvenile fiction; Self-reliance -- Juvenile fiction
The air was hot and close and still down there on the ground, but by
leaning his head back, and staring straight up he could see the pale
night sky sprinkled with stars in the openings between the dry
leaves and spikes of the reeds. Poor Martin could do nothing but
gaze up at the little he could see of the sky in that close, black
place, until his neck ached with the strain; but at last, to make
him hope, he heard a sound--the now familiar long shrill cry of the
wild man. Then, as it came nearer, the sound of tramping hoofs and
neighing of the horses was heard, and the cries and hoof-beats grew
louder and then fainter in turns, and sounded now on this side, now
on that, and he knew that they were looking for him. "I'm here, I'm
here," he cried; "oh, dear horses, come and take me away!" But they
could not hear him, and at last the sound of their neighing and the
wild long cries died away altogether, and Martin was left alone in
that black silent place.
CHAPTER XI
THE LADY OF THE HILLS
No escape was possible for poor little Martin so long as it was dark,
and there he had to stay all night, but morning brought him comfort;
for now he could see the reed-stems that hemmed him in all round,
and by using his hands to bend them from him on either side he could
push through them. By-and-by the sunlight touched the tops of the
tall plants, and working his way towards the side from which the
light came he soon made his escape from that prison, and came into a
place where he could walk without trouble, and could see the earth
and sky again. Further on, in a grassy part of the valley, he found
some sweet roots wrhich greatly refreshed him, and at last, leaving
the valley, he came out on a high grassy plain, and saw the hills
before him looking very much nearer than he had ever seen them look
before. Up till now they had appeared like masses of dark blue
banked up cloud resting on the earth, now he could see that they
were indeed stone--blue stone piled up in huge cliffs and crags high
above the green world; he could see the roughness of the heaped up
rocks, the fissures and crevices in the sides of the hills, and here
and there the patches of green colour where trees and bushes had
taken root. How wonderful it seemed to Martin that evening standing
there in the wide green plain, the level sun at his back shining on
his naked body, making him look like a statue of a small boy carved
in whitest marble or alabaster. Then, to make the sight he gazed on
still more enchanting, just as the sun went down the colour of the
hills changed from stone blue to a purple that was like the purple
of ripe plums and grapes, only more beautiful and bright. In a few
minutes the purple colour faded away and the hills grew shadowy and
dark. It was too late in the day, and he was too tired to walk
further. He was very hungry and thirsty too, and so when he had
found a few small white partridge-berries and had made a poor supper
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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