large/5152/brushwoodboy_1111_librivox_64kb_mp3/brushwoodboy_02_kipling_64kb_41
large/5152/brushwoodboy_1111_librivox_64kb_mp3/brushwoodboy_02_kipling_64kb
English
5152
At last he saw the brushwood pile, and hurried along to the ridge, for behind him he felt was the wide awake, sultry world. AT LAST HE SAW THE BRUSHWOOD PILE AND HURRIED ALONG TO THE RIDGE FOR BEHIND HIM HE FELT WAS THE WIDE AWAKE SULTRY WORLD
rt, withered grass, into valleys of wonder and unreason. Beyond the ridge, which was crowned with some sort of street-lamp, anything was possible; but up to the lamp it seemed to him that he knew the road as well as he knew the parade-ground. He learned to look forward to the place; for, once there, he was sure of a good night’s rest, and Indian hot weather can be rather trying. First, shadowy under closing eyelids, would come the outline of the brushwood-pile; next the white sand of the beach-road, almost overhanging the black, changeful sea; then the turn inland and uphill to the single light. When he was unrestful for any reason, he would tell himself how he was sure to get there—sure to get there—if he shut his eyes and surrendered to the drift of things. But one night after a foolishly hard hour’s polo (the thermometer was 94° in his quarters at ten o’clock), sleep stood away from him altogether, though he did his best to find the well-known road, the point where true sleep began. D COVERED WITH SHORT WITHERED GRASS INTO VALLEYS OF WONDER AND UNREASON BEYOND THE RIDGE WHICH WAS CROWNED WITH SOME SORT OF STREET LAMP ANYTHING WAS POSSIBLE BUT UP TO THE LAMP IT SEEMED TO HIM THAT HE KNEW THE ROAD AS WELL AS HE KNEW THE PARADE GROUND HE LEARNED TO LOOK FORWARD TO THE PLACE FOR ONCE THERE HE WAS SURE OF A GOOD NIGHT'S REST AND INDIAN HOT WEATHER CAN BE RATHER TRYING FIRST SHADOWY UNDER CLOSING EYELIDS WOULD COME THE OUTLINE OF THE BRUSHWOOD PILE NEXT THE WHITE SAND OF THE BEACH ROAD ALMOST OVERHANGING THE BLACK CHANGEFUL SEA THEN THE TURN IN LAND AND UPHILL TO THE SINGLE LIGHT WHEN HE WAS UNRESTFUL FOR ANY REASON HE WOULD TELL HIMSELF HOW HE WAS SURE TO GET THERE SURE TO GET THERE IF HE SHUT HIS EYES AND SURRENDERED TO THE DRIFT OF THINGS BUT ONE NIGHT AFTER A FOOLISHLY HARD HOUR'S POLO THE THERMOMETER WAS NINETY FOUR IN HIS QUARTERS AT TEN O'CLOCK SLEEP STOOD AWAY FROM HIM ALTOGETHER THOUGH HE DID HIS BEST TO FIND THE WELL KNOWN ROAD THE POINT WHERE TRUE SLEEP BEGAN
large/5152/brushwoodboy_1111_librivox_64kb_mp3/brushwoodboy_02_kipling_64kb
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