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Hudson, W. H. (William Henry), 1841-1922

"The Purple Land"

It was the only house near, but after
gazing at it for some time I concluded that it was uninhabited. For
even at that distance I could see plainly that there were no human
beings moving about it, no horse or other domestic animal near, and
there were certainly no hedges or enclosures of any description.
Slowly I went down the hill, and to the old man sitting beside the
stream. I found him engaged in the seemingly difficult operation of
disentangling a luxuriant crop of very long hair, which had
somehow--possibly from long neglect--got itself into great confusion.
He had dipped his head into the water, and with an old comb, boasting
about seven or eight teeth, was laboriously and with infinite patience
drawing out the long hairs, a very few at a time. After saluting him,
I lit a cigarette, and, leaning on the neck of my horse, watched his
efforts for some time with profound interest. He toiled away in silence
for five or six minutes, then dipped his head in the water again, and,
while carefully wringing the wet out, he remarked that my horse looked
tired.
"Yes," I replied; "so is his rider. Can you tell me who lives in that
_estancia_?"
"My master," he returned laconically.
"Is he a good-hearted man--one who will give shelter to a stranger?"
I asked.
He took a very long time to answer me, then said:
"He has nothing to say about such matters.


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