Smith and the Pharaohs, and other TalesHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
General
Smith and the Pharaohs, and other Tales
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Adventure stories, English; Fantasy fiction, English; Short stories, English
“One river, that to the right if I looked towards the lake, was very
broad, so broad that after it reached the plain and flowed slowly, great
ships could have sailed upon it. The other, that to the left, was
smaller and more rapid, but it also wandered away across the plain till
my sight could follow it no farther. I observed that the broad,
right-hand river evidently inundated its banks in seasons of flood,
much as the Nile does, and that all along those banks were fields
filled with rich crops, of what sort I do not know. The plain itself,
which I take it was a kind of delta, the gift of the great river, was
limitless. It stretched on and on, broken only by forests, along the
edges of which moved many animals.
“When first I saw this landscape it was suffused with a sweet and
pearly light, that came not from sun or moon or stars, but from a
luminous body in shape like a folded fan, of which the handle rested on
the earth. By degrees this fan began to open; I suppose that it was the
hour of dawn. Its ribs of gorgeous light spread themselves from one
side of heaven to the other and were joined together by webs of a
thousand colours, of such stuff as the rainbow, only a hundred times
more beautiful. The reflection from these rainbow webs lay upon the
earth, divided by and sometimes mingled with those from the bars of
light, and made it glorious.
“All these things I saw from an eminence on which I stood that rose
between the rivers at the head of the plain. At length, overcome by the
splendour, drunk as it were with beauty, I turned to look behind me, and
there, quite close, in the midst of stately gardens with terraces and
trees and fountains and banks of flowers, I saw a house, and—now
indeed you will laugh—for so far as I can recollect it, in general
style it was not unlike our own; that is to say, its architecture
seemed to be more or less Elizabethan. If one who was acquainted with
Elizabethan buildings had gone to that land and built a house from
memory, but with more beautiful materials, he might have produced such
a one as I imagined in my dream.
“Presently from the door of the house emerged two figures. One of
these was my brother George and the other, Barbara, was our baby grown
to a little fair-haired child. The child perceived me first and ran to
me through the flowers. It leapt into my arms and kissed me. Then my
brother came and said—I do not mean he spoke, but his meaning was
conveyed to me:
“‘You see, we are making your home ready. We hope that you will
like it when you come, but if not you can change it as you wish.’
“Then I woke up, or went to sleep—I do not know which.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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