The man’s appetite had in no way increased during his whole stay on the rock. He resolved to eat no more fruit until he felt hungry again.
During these sixty-six days the weather had never changed. The Sun shone brightly every day, and there was an occasional breeze. It struck the man sometimes that his was an ideal existence, suspended in time and free from every want. His health was perfect, he slept well, and he never had to exert himself unduly. Moreover his hair never grew longer; it was as if he had become ageless.
The heat of the Sun gradually increased. One day, as he was bathing, he noticed how warm the water was. After a few days steam rose from it, and the water level fell. It became too hot to sit outside the cave, and one morning, in venturing his hand out of the shadow, he was burnt as if by fire. The heat rose from the rocks and they cracked, while over the water the ever-thickening steam formed clouds. Strangely the two silver trees outside the cave showed no signs of withering. The man felt that he was stifling in the cave, and to quench his thirst, picked a fruit and ate it. He threw the core into the water, and as it fell it smouldered and crackled. A hot wind arose and blew strongly from the East, so that the thick mist outside swirled past the cave mouth for day after day.
At last one morning there was no more mist, and stranger still, no more water. The man stood in the cave mouth and looked all around. A broad, barren desert stretched away from the foot of the mountain several leagues below. It was as featureless as the water had been. Nothing grew and nothing moved in the land: it was wholly grey.
For the first time since he had come to the mountain, the man’s heart sank within him. The nearness of the warm, empty waters had been a comfort to him; the distant grey waste of dust was chilling. He knew that his own life, with all his needs provided for, would continue as pleasantly as before. But to look at the unfertile land below made him sad.
No comments:
Post a Comment