My horse was
hitched at the watering-trough, and untying him I
mounted and gave him his head, too much troubled
in mind to note whither he took me.
I did not know what to think of all this, and like
everyone who does not know what to think I thought
a great deal, and to little purpose. The only reflection
that seemed at all satisfactory was, that on the mor-
row I should be some miles away, with a strong
probability of never returning.
A sudden coolness brought me out of my abstrac-
tion, and looking up I found myself entering the deep
shadows of the ravine. The day was stifling; and
this transition from the pitiless, visible heat of the
parched fields to the cool gloom, heavy with pun-
gency of cedars and vocal with twittering of the
birds that had been driven to its leafy asylum, was
exquisitely refreshing. I looked for my mystery,
as usual, but not finding the ravine in a communica-
tive mood, dismounted, led my sweating animal into
the undergrowth, tied him securely to a tree and sat
down upon a rock to meditate.
I began bravely by analysing my pet superstition
about the place. Having resolved it into its constit-
uent elements I arranged them in convenient troops
and squadrons, and collecting all the forces of my
logic bore down upon them from impregnable prem-
ises with the thunder of irresistible conclusions and
a great noise of chariots and general intellectual
shouting.
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