Читать книгу The Dark River онлайн

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Hardie paused and looked back at him.

"I supposed an old Tahitian like yourself would know all about outrigger canoes. We've eight miles to go, according to Fara."

"There's plenty of time. Take it easy."

They paddled on for an hour, with scarcely a word exchanged between them. The stillness of early morning rested upon land and sea, deepened by the thin clear crowing of jungle cocks in the forest that covered the lowlands and the hills beyond. Above them, far inland, they had glimpses of plateaus crossed by bands of golden light, narrow canyons filled with purple haze, the head walls of valleys, and, higher and farther still, the peaks of mountains dimly seen through veils of mist. At times they moved along the brink of shoals that shelved steeply into the depths; here they drifted or paddled slowly. And on the right hand stretched the lonely coast, broken by small bays and coves and promontories, with no sign anywhere of human habitation.

"I've always wanted to see one of the ends of the earth," Hardie remarked, presently.