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Mason, A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley), 1865-1948

"The Four Feathers"

You
could almost walk your camel up to the knees in them, before the lagoon
receded and the sand glared at you. And one cannot imagine that glare.
Every stone within view dances and shakes like a heliograph; you can
see--yes, actually see--the heat flow breast high across the desert
swift as this stream here, only pellucid. So till the sun sets ahead of
you level with your eyes! Imagine the nights which follow--nights of
infinite silence, with a cool friendly wind blowing from horizon to
horizon--and your bed spread for you under the great dome of stars. Oh,"
he cried, drawing a deep breath, "but that country grows on you. It's
like the Southern Cross--four overrated stars when first you see them,
but in a week you begin to look for them, and you miss them when you
travel north again." He raised himself upon his elbow and turned
suddenly towards her. "Do you know--I can only speak for myself--but I
never feel alone in those empty spaces. On the contrary, I always feel
very close to the things I care about, and to the few people I care
about too."
Her eyes shone very brightly upon him, her lips parted in a smile. He
moved nearer to her upon the grass, and sat with his feet gathered under
him upon one side, and leaning upon his arm.


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