Читать книгу Nameless River онлайн

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She skirted great boulders fallen from above, waded a riffle here, leaped a narrow there, and always the great cut became rougher, wilder, more forbidding and mysterious.

She stood for a long time beside a pool that lay, still-seeming and dark, behind a huge rock, but in whose shadowed depths she could see the swirling of white sand that marked its turmoil.

The cañon widened here a bit, its floor strewn with jumbled boulders, its walls honeycombed with water-eaten caves.

When the snows melted in the high gulches of the Deep Hearts a little later, this place would be a roaring race. She thought of its foamy volume pouring from the cañon’s mouth to swell the flood of the Nameless a bit below her southern boundary. But it was a lone and lovely spot now, what with its peopled silence and its blue-toned walls.

These things were passing through her mind as she watched the swirling sand, when all of a sudden, as if an invisible hand had brushed her, she became alert in every fibre.

She had heard nothing new in the murmurous monotone, seen no shadow among the pale shadows about her, yet something had changed. Some different element had intruded itself into the stark elements of the place.