Orpheus in Mayfair, and Other Stories and SketchesBaring, Maurice
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Orpheus in Mayfair, and Other Stories and Sketches
Baring, Maurice
English fiction -- 20th century; Short stories
After he had been walking for what seemed to him several hours, the
vegetation grew thinner, the jungle less dense, and from a more or less
open space in it he seemed to discern what might have been a mountain
entirely submerged in a multitude of heavy grey clouds. He sat down on
the green stuff which was like grass and yet was not grass, at the edge
of the open space whence he got this view, and quite naturally he picked
from the boughs of an overhanging tree a large red, juicy fruit, and
ate it. Then he said to himself, he knew not why, that he must not waste
time, but must be moving on.
He took a path to the right of him and descended the sloping jungle with
big, buoyant strides, almost running; he knew the way as though he had
been down that path a thousand times. He knew that in a few moments he
would reach a whole hanging garden of red flowers, and he knew that
when he had reached this he must again turn to the right. It was as he
thought: the red flowers soon came to view. He turned sharply, and then
through the thinning greenery he caught sight of an open plain where
more mushrooms grew. But the plain was as yet a great way off, and the
mushrooms seemed quite small.
“I shall get there in time,” he said to himself, and walked steadily on,
looking neither to the right nor to the left. It was evening by the
time he reached the edge of the plain: everything was growing dark. The
endless vapours and the high banks of cloud in which the whole of this
world was sunk grew dimmer and dimmer. In front of him was an empty
level space, and about two miles further on the huge mushrooms stood
out, tall and wide like the monuments of some prehistoric age. And
underneath them on the soft carpet there seemed to move a myriad vague
and shadowy forms.
“I shall get there in time,” he thought. He walked on for another half
hour, and by this time the tall mushrooms were quite close to him,
and he could see moving underneath them, distinctly now, green, living
creatures like huge caterpillars, with glowing eyes. They moved slowly
and did not seem to interfere with each other in any way. Further off,
and beyond them, there was a broad and endless plain of high green
stalks like ears of green wheat or millet, only taller and thinner.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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