[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.The water bag, in my hands, hung limp, dry. Let us rest, I said to the Kur.He pressed on.I followed the footprints.There was blood in them.I shut myeyes against the glare of the terrain.I put one foot in front of the other, again and again.The Kur began to limp.I felt weak, sleepy.I was not much interested in eating.I began to feelstrangely hot.I felt my forehead.It was dry, and seemed unnaturally warm.Ifelt sick to my stomach, nauseous.That is strange, I thought.I have hadlittle to cat. We must rest, I told the Kur.But he continued to pressahead.I tumbled after him, the water bag in my hand.I looked at it.It hadcracked in the sun.I clung to it, irrationally.I would not release it.Whenthe sun was high, I fell.The Kur waited until I regained my feet and then helimped on, ahead of me. I m dizzy, I told him. Wait! I stood still, andwaited for the dizziness to pass.The Kur waited.Then we went on again.I had a headache.I shook my head.The pain was severe.Iput one foot before the other, continuing to follow the Kur.I began to itch.Iscratched at my arms and body.I stumbled.The Kur moved on ahead of me.Itwas odd to feel no saliva in one s mouth.My eyes were dry.Bits of sandseemed to lie between the eye and the lid; I felt, too, the grit of sand in mymouth, I could not spit it out; my eyes would not form tears.My lips becamesore and began to ache.My tongue felt large.I felt skin on my tonguepeeling.I began to feel cramps in my stomach, and in my arms and legs.Ilooked about.There seemed muchfile:///F|/My%20Shared%20Folder/John%20Norm.%20Gor%2010%20-%20Tribesmen%20of%20Gor.html (269 of 353) [1/21/03 7:52:05 PM]10 Tribesmen of Gor water here and there, in flat places, in the distance,rippling, stirring.Sometimes our path took us toward it, but when we reachedit, it was sand, the air above it rippling and troubled in the desert s heat. I can go no further, I told the Kur.He turned to face me, crouched over, He pointed now to his right, for thefirst time.He pointed directly eastward, toward the dunes.It was at thispoint, Iunderstood, that he would enter the dunes for his overland trek.I looked at the dunes to my left, shimmering with beat, rippled in the wind,the tops like bright, tawny smoke in the light.It would be madness and death to enter them.He pointed to his right, with the long arm, to the dunes. I can go no further, I told him.He approached me.I regarded him.He took me by the arms and threw me to hisPage 189 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlfeet in the dirt.I heard him take the water bag, and heard it being ripped.My hands were jerked behind me and tied.My ankles were crossed and tied.Withportions of the water bag and shreds from it, the Kur bound his feet, toprotect them from the sand.He twisted a rope from other strips of the bag.Ifelt this, as Ilay in the sand and grit, knotted about my throat.With his teeth he severedthe leather that had bound my ankles.I almost strangled.I was jerked to myfeet.TheKur turned toward the dunes, the rope of twisted leather in his right paw.Then he led me, tethered behind him, his human prisoner, climbing, slipping,up the first long, sloping crest, into the dunes. You are mad, mad! I wanted to scream at him.But I could only whisper, andscarce could heir my own voice.He continued on, and I, tethered, followed him.The wind whipped across the sand.I have marched to Klima, I told myself.I march again to Klima.I march againtoKlima.But on the march to Klima I had had water, salt.Sometime in the late afternoon I must have fallen unconscious in the sand.Idreamt of the baths of Ar and Turia.I awakened in the night.No longer was Ibound.I was carried in the arms of the Kur, over the silvered dunes.He movedslowly.He was lame in his right foot.I lay against wounds in his upperchest.They were open.But they did not bleed.Again I fell asleep.The next time I awakened it was shortly before dawn.Thefile:///F|/My%20Shared%20Folder/John%20Norm.%20Gor%2010%20-%20Tribesmen%20of%20Gor.html (270 of 353) [1/21/03 7:52:05 PM]10 Tribesmen of GorKur, near me, half covered with sand, stirred by the wind, slept.I rose to myfeet, unsteadily.Then I fell.I could not stand.I sat in the sand, my back against a dune.I watched the Kur.It had been anadmirable, mighty beast.But now the deserts, and its wounds, were killing it.It was now weak, and drawn.Its flesh seemed to hang upon its huge frame, ashrunken reminiscence of the former mightiness of the beast.I regretted,strangely, seeing its decline.I wondered at what drove it, why it strove sorelentlessly in its mission, whatever that might be.It dared to pit itselfagainst the desert.I noted its fur.No longer was it sleek, but now it seemedlifeless, brittle; it was dry; it was coated with sand.The leather of itssnout, with the two nostrils, was cracked and, now, oddly gray.Its mouth andlips were dry, like paper.About the snout, the nostrils, the mouth and lips,were tiny fissures, broken open, filled with sand.Sand, too, rimmed thenostrils and eyes, and the mouth and lips.It lay in the sand, curled, itshead facing away from the wind, like something discarded, needed no longer,cast aside.It, proud beast, had pitted itself against the desert.It hadlost.What prize, I wondered, could be worth the risk the beast had beenwilling to take, the price it had been willing to pay, its own life.Iwondered if it could rise again to its feet.I did not think either of uswould survive the day.The sun was rising.The beast rolled to its feet, and shook the sand from its fur.It stoodunsteadily. Go without me, I said. I cannot walk.You can no longer carry me. The beast lifted its long arm and pointed to the sun.It lifted two fingers.It approached me [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl milosnikstop.keep.pl
.The water bag, in my hands, hung limp, dry. Let us rest, I said to the Kur.He pressed on.I followed the footprints.There was blood in them.I shut myeyes against the glare of the terrain.I put one foot in front of the other, again and again.The Kur began to limp.I felt weak, sleepy.I was not much interested in eating.I began to feelstrangely hot.I felt my forehead.It was dry, and seemed unnaturally warm.Ifelt sick to my stomach, nauseous.That is strange, I thought.I have hadlittle to cat. We must rest, I told the Kur.But he continued to pressahead.I tumbled after him, the water bag in my hand.I looked at it.It hadcracked in the sun.I clung to it, irrationally.I would not release it.Whenthe sun was high, I fell.The Kur waited until I regained my feet and then helimped on, ahead of me. I m dizzy, I told him. Wait! I stood still, andwaited for the dizziness to pass.The Kur waited.Then we went on again.I had a headache.I shook my head.The pain was severe.Iput one foot before the other, continuing to follow the Kur.I began to itch.Iscratched at my arms and body.I stumbled.The Kur moved on ahead of me.Itwas odd to feel no saliva in one s mouth.My eyes were dry.Bits of sandseemed to lie between the eye and the lid; I felt, too, the grit of sand in mymouth, I could not spit it out; my eyes would not form tears.My lips becamesore and began to ache.My tongue felt large.I felt skin on my tonguepeeling.I began to feel cramps in my stomach, and in my arms and legs.Ilooked about.There seemed muchfile:///F|/My%20Shared%20Folder/John%20Norm.%20Gor%2010%20-%20Tribesmen%20of%20Gor.html (269 of 353) [1/21/03 7:52:05 PM]10 Tribesmen of Gor water here and there, in flat places, in the distance,rippling, stirring.Sometimes our path took us toward it, but when we reachedit, it was sand, the air above it rippling and troubled in the desert s heat. I can go no further, I told the Kur.He turned to face me, crouched over, He pointed now to his right, for thefirst time.He pointed directly eastward, toward the dunes.It was at thispoint, Iunderstood, that he would enter the dunes for his overland trek.I looked at the dunes to my left, shimmering with beat, rippled in the wind,the tops like bright, tawny smoke in the light.It would be madness and death to enter them.He pointed to his right, with the long arm, to the dunes. I can go no further, I told him.He approached me.I regarded him.He took me by the arms and threw me to hisPage 189 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlfeet in the dirt.I heard him take the water bag, and heard it being ripped.My hands were jerked behind me and tied.My ankles were crossed and tied.Withportions of the water bag and shreds from it, the Kur bound his feet, toprotect them from the sand.He twisted a rope from other strips of the bag.Ifelt this, as Ilay in the sand and grit, knotted about my throat.With his teeth he severedthe leather that had bound my ankles.I almost strangled.I was jerked to myfeet.TheKur turned toward the dunes, the rope of twisted leather in his right paw.Then he led me, tethered behind him, his human prisoner, climbing, slipping,up the first long, sloping crest, into the dunes. You are mad, mad! I wanted to scream at him.But I could only whisper, andscarce could heir my own voice.He continued on, and I, tethered, followed him.The wind whipped across the sand.I have marched to Klima, I told myself.I march again to Klima.I march againtoKlima.But on the march to Klima I had had water, salt.Sometime in the late afternoon I must have fallen unconscious in the sand.Idreamt of the baths of Ar and Turia.I awakened in the night.No longer was Ibound.I was carried in the arms of the Kur, over the silvered dunes.He movedslowly.He was lame in his right foot.I lay against wounds in his upperchest.They were open.But they did not bleed.Again I fell asleep.The next time I awakened it was shortly before dawn.Thefile:///F|/My%20Shared%20Folder/John%20Norm.%20Gor%2010%20-%20Tribesmen%20of%20Gor.html (270 of 353) [1/21/03 7:52:05 PM]10 Tribesmen of GorKur, near me, half covered with sand, stirred by the wind, slept.I rose to myfeet, unsteadily.Then I fell.I could not stand.I sat in the sand, my back against a dune.I watched the Kur.It had been anadmirable, mighty beast.But now the deserts, and its wounds, were killing it.It was now weak, and drawn.Its flesh seemed to hang upon its huge frame, ashrunken reminiscence of the former mightiness of the beast.I regretted,strangely, seeing its decline.I wondered at what drove it, why it strove sorelentlessly in its mission, whatever that might be.It dared to pit itselfagainst the desert.I noted its fur.No longer was it sleek, but now it seemedlifeless, brittle; it was dry; it was coated with sand.The leather of itssnout, with the two nostrils, was cracked and, now, oddly gray.Its mouth andlips were dry, like paper.About the snout, the nostrils, the mouth and lips,were tiny fissures, broken open, filled with sand.Sand, too, rimmed thenostrils and eyes, and the mouth and lips.It lay in the sand, curled, itshead facing away from the wind, like something discarded, needed no longer,cast aside.It, proud beast, had pitted itself against the desert.It hadlost.What prize, I wondered, could be worth the risk the beast had beenwilling to take, the price it had been willing to pay, its own life.Iwondered if it could rise again to its feet.I did not think either of uswould survive the day.The sun was rising.The beast rolled to its feet, and shook the sand from its fur.It stoodunsteadily. Go without me, I said. I cannot walk.You can no longer carry me. The beast lifted its long arm and pointed to the sun.It lifted two fingers.It approached me [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]