When the birds fly southCoblentz, Stanton A. (Stanton Arthur)
Science
When the birds fly south
Coblentz, Stanton A. (Stanton Arthur)
Afghanistan -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
Even in my half-dazed condition, I observed something peculiar about
these persons. A single glance told me that they belonged to no race I
had ever seen or heard of; they were manifestly mountaineers, yet did
not wear the usual Afghan garb. Men and women alike were attired in
stout loose-fitting dark-blue garments of some material reminding me
of canvas, with red stripes and dots, and bizarre yet not unattractive
designs. In person they were clean-cut and prepossessing; the men tall
and well-built, with long full beards, swarthy countenances and proud
flashing black eyes; while the women were among the most attractive I
had ever seen.
So, at least, it seemed to me when the younger, scarcely more than a
child, lifted a small leather flask to my mouth and motioned me to
drink. With an effort, I moistened my lips; then, frantic as a drug
addict deprived of his drug, I swallowed a long draught, draining the
entire contents.
And as, half revived, I lay against the boulder, I observed that the
strangers were all peering at me with curiosity and wonder. But equal
wonder and curiosity, I am sure, stared from my own eyes; while my
glance may have already been too partial to her who had ministered
to my thirst. For I could see how strikingly she differed from her
companions; her complexion was lighter than theirs, and she had an airy
grace and beauty which set her apart.
Peering at her closely, I thought that she might be about sixteen
or seventeen. Her clear white skin had the stainlessness of perfect
health; her hair, which hung in unbound curls and ringlets about her
slender neck, was of a rich auburn; her eyes, in startling contrast to
that auburn, were dark like the eyes of her kindred, and in the deep
brown of the iris live fires glowed and smoldered; her features were
modelled with exquisite daintiness, the forehead of medium height and
rounded like a half moon, the nose small and gracefully pointed, the
gently curving chin tapering to a firm little knob. Her lips, tiny and
thin, had at times a creasing of merriment about the corners that
gave her almost a puckish appearance. Although slimly built and not
much over five feet in height, she did not lack at all in robustness;
she flitted from place to place with great agility; and her rude
unhampering garments fitted her ideally for mountain climbing.
After the exhaustion of our first few minutes together, I was again
close to unconsciousness. But now I felt strong hands lifting me; and
opened my eyes to find two men smiling upon me encouragingly. At the
same time, something pungent and aromatic was thrust between my lips;
the girl was extending a handful of dried herbs, which she motioned me
to consume with a genial dimpling smile that I had no power to resist.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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