Читать книгу Pelican Pool. A Novel онлайн

6 страница из 46

But a hundred miles still frown him from the goal. With morning he clambers into a seat of the mail coach—a battered carriage. His luggage has been strapped behind. He sits solitary beside the driver, who accepts him with easy familiarity. The reins run slack to the horses' heads, and the five lean beasts draw him forward at even pace. The dust climbs up and hangs upon the air. All day he rolls over empty plain.

The second afternoon brings the ranges marching from the horizon, and by evening the coach rises and dips upon a see-saw roadway. As the sun leans down to the horizon, the driver draws taut his reins before Surprise Valley Hotel. Surprise Valley ends the coach journey—ends the direct mail service—ends the bush parson's endeavors—ends the travelling school-master's rounds—ends civilization—ends everything. When humour so inclines them—which is seldom—the people of Surprise Valley may walk from their doorways into the great unknown of the West.

Fortune has given to Surprise the greenest fold of the western ranges. Easy hills stand up about the camp, tracing a zig-zag rim against the sky. The camp lies in the hollow, as in the bottom of a cup. It clambers about the lower slopes, following the whim of the latest comer. The hotel boasts a roof and walls of iron, that much boasts the store, that much the manager's house. The staff barracks and the mine offices equally are favoured. Wooden piles lift the buildings high from the ground. Elsewhere stand weather-worn tents; and sometimes a bough shed, thatched with gum-leaves, serves its architect as parlour.