After the rain, the marsh seemed full of new life. Many strange sounds

were now audible, and the grasses waved as if stirred by some secret

vital force. Frogs croaked lustily in a chorus; now and again some

birds uttered a sharp discordant cry; while at no great distance, yet

out of range, ducks could be heard cackling in the wet reeds. Yourii,

however, felt no desire to shoot, but he shouldered his gun and turned

homeward, listening to sounds of crystalline clearness in the grey calm

twilight.

"How beautiful!" thought he. "All is beautiful; man alone is vile!"

Far away he saw the little fire burning in the melon-field, and ere

long by its light he recognized the faces of Kousma and Sanine.

"What does he always come here for?" thought Yourii, surprised and

curious.

Seated by the fire, Kousma was telling a story, laughing and

gesticulating meanwhile. Sanine was laughing, too. The fire burned with

a slender flame, as that of a taper, the light being rosy, not red as

at night-time, while overhead, in the blue dome of heaven, the first

stars glittered. There was an odour of fresh mould and rain-drenched

grass.

For some reason or other Yourii felt afraid lest they should see him,

yet at the same time it saddened him to think that he could not join

them. Between himself and them there seemed to be a barrier

incomprehensible and yet unreal; a space devoid of atmosphere, a gulf

that could never be bridged.

This sense of utter isolation depressed him greatly. He was alone; from

this world with its vesper lights and hues, and fires, and stars, and

human sounds, he stood aloof and apart, as though shut close within a

dark room. So distressful was this sense of solitude, that as he

crossed the melon-field where hundreds of melons were growing in the

gloom, to him they seemed like human skulls that Jay strewn upon the

ground.




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