Boys -- Juvenile fiction; Fantasy literature; Nature -- Juvenile fiction; Self-reliance -- Juvenile fiction
At length when it was past the hour of noon, Martin sat down under a
small bush that gave just shade enough to cover him and none to spare.
It was only a little spot of shade like an island in a sea of heat and
brightness. He was too hot and tired to run more, too tired even to keep
his eyes open, and so, propping his back against the stem of the small
bush, he closed his tired hot eyes.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_Chapter Four_
_Martin is Found by a Deaf Old Man_
Martin kept his eyes shut for only about a minute, as he thought; but he
must have been asleep some time, for when he opened them the False Water
had vanished, and the sun, looking very large and crimson, was just
about to set. He started up, feeling very thirsty and hungry and
bewildered; for he was far, far from home, and lost on the great plain.
Presently he spied a man coming towards him on horseback. A very
funny-looking old man he proved to be, with a face wrinkled and tanned
by sun and wind, until it resembled a piece of ancient shoe-leather left
lying for years on some neglected spot of ground. A Brazil nut is not
darker nor more wrinkled than was the old man's face. His long matted
beard and hair had once been white, but the sun out of doors and the
smoke in his smoky hut had given them a yellowish tinge, so that they
looked like dry dead grass. He wore big jack-boots, patched all over,
and full of cracks and holes; and a great pea-jacket, rusty and ragged,
fastened with horn buttons big as saucers. His old brimless hat looked
like a dilapidated tea-cosy on his head, and to prevent it from being
carried off by the wind it was kept on with an old flannel shirt-sleeve
tied under his chin. His saddle, too, like his clothes, was old and full
of rents, with wisps of hair and straw-stuffing sticking out in various
places, and his feet were thrust into a pair of big stirrups made of
pieces of wood and rusty iron tied together with string and wire.
"Boy, what may you being a doing of here?" bawled this old man at the
top of his voice: for he was as deaf as a post, and like a good many
deaf people thought it necessary to speak very loud to make himself
heard.
"Playing," answered Martin innocently. But he could not make the old man
hear until he stood up on tip-toe and shouted out his answer as loud as
he could.
"Playing," exclaimed the old man. "Well, I never in all my life! When
there ain't a house 'cepting my own for leagues and leagues, and he says
he's playing! What may you be now?" he shouted again.
"A little boy," screamed Martin.
"I knowed that afore I axed," said the other. Then he slapped his legs
and held up his hand with astonishment, and at last began to chuckle.
"Will you come home along o' me?" he shouted.
"Will you give me something to eat?" asked Martin in return.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account