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The Country of the Blind and Other Stories - The Valley of Spiders · The H. G. Wells Library

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Speaker 1: Section twenty six of the Country of the Blind and
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Speaker 1: Other Stories by H. G. Wells. This LIBRIVOXX recording is
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Speaker 1: in the public domain. Read by Peter Yearsley The Valley
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Speaker 1: of Spiders. Towards mid day, the three pursuers came abruptly
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Speaker 1: round a bend in the torrent bed, upon the site
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Speaker 1: of a very broad and spacious valley. The difficult and
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Speaker 1: winding trench of pebbles along which they had tracked the
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Speaker 1: fugitives for so long, expanded to a broad slope, and
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Speaker 1: with a common impulse, the three men left the trail
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Speaker 1: and rode to a little eminence set with olive dun trees,
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Speaker 1: and there halted the two others as became them a
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Speaker 1: little behind the man with the silver studded bridle. For
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Speaker 1: a space they scanned the great expanse below them with
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Speaker 1: eager eyes. It spread remoter and remoter, with only a
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Speaker 1: few clusters of sere thorn bushes here and there, and
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Speaker 1: the dim suggestions of some now waterly ravine to break
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Speaker 1: its desolation of yellow grass, Its purple distances melted at
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Speaker 1: last into the bluish slopes of the further hills. Hills
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Speaker 1: it might be of a greener kind. And above them,
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Speaker 1: invisibly supported and seeming indeed to hang in the blue,
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Speaker 1: were the snow clad summits of mountains that grew larger
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Speaker 1: and bolder to the northwestward, as the sides of the
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Speaker 1: valley drew together and westward, the valley opened, until a
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Speaker 1: distant darkness under the sky told where the forests began.
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Speaker 1: But the three men looked neither east nor west, but
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Speaker 1: only steadfastly across the valley. The gaunt man with the
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Speaker 1: scarred lip was the first to speak. Nowhere, he said,
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Speaker 1: with a sigh of disappointment in his voice. But after all,
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Speaker 1: they had a full day's start. They don't know where
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Speaker 1: after them, said the little man on the white horse.
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Speaker 1: She would know, said the leader bitterly, as if speaking
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Speaker 1: to himself. Even then, they can't go fast. They've got
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Speaker 1: no beast but the mule, and all to day the
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Speaker 1: girl's foot has been bleeding. The man with the silver
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Speaker 1: bridle flashed a quick intensity of rage on him. Do
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Speaker 1: you think I haven't seen that? He snarled. It helps, anyhow,
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Speaker 1: whispered the little man to himself. The gaunt man with
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Speaker 1: the scarred lip stared impassively. They can't be over the valley,
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Speaker 1: he said, if we ride hard. He glanced at the
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Speaker 1: white horse and paused. Curse all white horses, said the
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Speaker 1: man with the silver bridle, and turned to scan the beast.
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Speaker 1: His curse included. The little man looked down between the
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Speaker 1: melancholy ears of his steed. I did my best, he said.
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Speaker 1: The two others stared again across the valley for a space.
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Speaker 1: The gaunt man passed the back of his hand across
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Speaker 1: the scarred lip. Come up, said the man who owned
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Speaker 1: the silver bridle. Suddenly, the little man started and jerked
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Speaker 1: his rein, and the horse hoofs of the three made
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Speaker 1: a multitude etudinous faint pattering upon the withered grass. As
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Speaker 1: they turned back towards the trail. They rode cautiously down
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Speaker 1: the long slope before them, and so came through a
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Speaker 1: waste of prickly twisted bushes and strange dry shapes of
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Speaker 1: thorny branches that grew amongst the rocks, into the levels below.
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Speaker 1: And there the trail grew faint, for the soil was scanty,
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Speaker 1: and the only herbage was this scorched dead straw that
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Speaker 1: lay upon the ground. Still by hard scanning, by leaning
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Speaker 1: beside the horse's necks and pausing, ever and again, even
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Speaker 1: these white men could contrive to follow after their prey.
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Speaker 1: There were trodden places, bent and broken blades of the
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Speaker 1: coarse grass, and ever and again the sufficient intimation of
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Speaker 1: a footmark. And once the leader saw a brown smear
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Speaker 1: of blood where the half cast girl may have trod,
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Speaker 1: and at that, under his breath he cursed her for
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Speaker 1: a fool. The gaurne man checked his leader's tracking, and
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Speaker 1: the little man on the white horse rode behind, a
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Speaker 1: man lost in a dream. They rode one after another.
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Speaker 1: The man with the silver bridle led the way, and
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Speaker 1: they spoke, never a word. After a time, it came
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Speaker 1: to the little man on the white horse that the
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Speaker 1: world was very still. He started out of his dream.
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Speaker 1: Besides the little noises of their horses and equipment, the
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Speaker 1: whole great valley kept the brooding quiet of a painted scene.
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Speaker 1: Before him went his master and his fellow, each intently
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Speaker 1: leaning forward to the left, each impassively moving with the
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Speaker 1: paces of his horse. Their shadows went before them, still, noiseless,
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Speaker 1: tapering attendants, and nearer a crouched, cool shape was his own.
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Speaker 1: He looked about him, What was it had gone. Then
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Speaker 1: he remembered the reverberation from the banks of the gorge,
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Speaker 1: and the perpetual accompanied of shifting, jostling pebbles, and moreover,
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Speaker 1: there was no breeze. That was it. What a vast
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Speaker 1: still place. It was a monotonous afternoon slumber, and the
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Speaker 1: sky open and blank except for a somber veil of
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Speaker 1: haze that had gathered in the upper valley. He straightened
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Speaker 1: his back, fretted with his bridle, puckered his lips to whistle,
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Speaker 1: and simply sighed. He turned in his saddle for a
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Speaker 1: time and stared at the throat of the mountain gorge
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Speaker 1: out of which they had come, blank blank slopes on
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Speaker 1: either side, with never a sign of a decent beast
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Speaker 1: or tree, much less a man. What a land it was,
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Speaker 1: What a wilderness? He dropped again into his former pose.
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Speaker 1: It filled him with a momentary pleasure to see a
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Speaker 1: wry stick of purple black flash out in the form
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Speaker 1: of a snake and vanish amidst the brown. After all,
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Speaker 1: the infernal valley was alive. And then, to joys him
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Speaker 1: still more, came a little breath across his face, a
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Speaker 1: whisper that came and went the faintest inclination of a stiff,
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Speaker 1: black antlered bush upon a little crest, the first intimations
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Speaker 1: of a possible breeze. Idly, he wetted his finger and
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Speaker 1: held it up. He pulled up sharply to avoid a
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Speaker 1: collision with the gaunt man, who had stopped at fault
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Speaker 1: upon the trail. Just at that guilty moment, he caught
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Speaker 1: his master's eye looking towards him. For a time he
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Speaker 1: forced an interest in the tracking. Then, as they rode
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Speaker 1: on again, he studied his master's shadow and hat and
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Speaker 1: shoulder appearing and disappearing behind the gaunt man's nearer contours.
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Speaker 1: They had ridden four days out of the very limits
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Speaker 1: of the world into this desolate place, short of water,
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Speaker 1: with nothing but a strip of dried meat under their saddles,
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Speaker 1: over rocks and mountains where surely none but these fugitives
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Speaker 1: had ever been before. For that and all this was
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Speaker 1: for a girl, a mere wilful child. And the man
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Speaker 1: had whole cityfuls of people to do his basest bidding
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Speaker 1: girls women. Why in the name of passionate folly this
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Speaker 1: one in particular, asked the little man, and scowled at
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Speaker 1: the world and licked his parched lips with a blackened tongue.
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Speaker 1: It was the way of the master, and that was
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Speaker 1: all he knew, just because she sought to evade him.
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Speaker 1: His eye caught a whole row of high plumed canes
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Speaker 1: bending in unison, and then the tails of silk that
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Speaker 1: hung before his neck flapped and fell. The breeze was
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Speaker 1: growing stronger. Somehow it took the stiff stillness out of things.
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Speaker 1: And that was well, Allah, said the gaunt man. All
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Speaker 1: three stopped abruptly. What, asked the master? What over there?
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Speaker 1: Said the gaunt man, pointing out up the valley, What
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Speaker 1: something coming towards us? And as he spoke, a yellow
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Speaker 1: animal crested a rise and came bearing down upon them.
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Speaker 1: It was a big wild dog, coming before the wind,
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Speaker 1: toung out at a steady pace, and running with such
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Speaker 1: an intensity of purpose that he did not seem to
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Speaker 1: see the horseman he approached. He ran with his nose
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Speaker 1: up following. It was plain, neither scent nor quarry. As
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Speaker 1: he drew nearer, the little man felt for his sword.
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Speaker 1: He's mad, said the gaunt rider. Shout, said the little man,
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Speaker 1: and shouted. The dog came on. Then, when the little
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Speaker 1: Man's blade was already out. It swerved aside and went
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Speaker 1: panting by them, and passed the eyes of the little
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Speaker 1: Man followed its flight. There was no foam, he said,
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Speaker 1: for a space. The man with the silver studded bridle
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Speaker 1: stared up the valley. Oh, come on, he cried, at last,
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Speaker 1: what does it matter, and jerked his horse into movement again.
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Speaker 1: The little Man left the insoluble mystery of a dog
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Speaker 1: that fled from nothing but the wind, and lapsed into
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Speaker 1: profound musings on human character. Come on, he whispered to himself.
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Speaker 1: Why should it be given to one man to say,
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Speaker 1: come on? With that stupendous violence of effect? Always all
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Speaker 1: his life, the man with the silver bridle has been
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Speaker 1: saying that if I said it, thought the little man.
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Speaker 1: But people marveled when the master was disobeyed, even in
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Speaker 1: the wildest things. This half caste girl seemed to him,
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Speaker 1: seemed to every one, mad, blasphemous. Almost. The little Man,
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Speaker 1: by way of comparison, reflected on the gaunt rider with
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Speaker 1: the scarred lip, as stalwart as his master, as brave,
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Speaker 1: and indeed perhaps braver. And yet for him there was obedience,
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Speaker 1: nothing but to give obedience duly and stoutly. Certain sensations
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Speaker 1: of the hands and knees called the little man back
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Speaker 1: to more immediate things. He became aware of something. He
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Speaker 1: rode up beside his gaunt fellow. Do you notice the horses,
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Speaker 1: he said in an undertone. The gaunt face looked interrogation.
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Speaker 1: They don't like this wind, said the little man, and
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Speaker 1: dropped behind as the man with the silver bridle turned
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Speaker 1: upon him. It's all right, said the gaunt faced man.
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Speaker 1: They rode on again for a space in silence. The
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Speaker 1: foremost too, rode downcast upon the trail. The hindmost man
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Speaker 1: watched the haze that crept down the vastness of the
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Speaker 1: valley nearer and nearer, and noted how the wind grew
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Speaker 1: in strength moment by moment. Far away, on the left,
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Speaker 1: he saw a line of dark bulks, wild hog perhaps,
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Speaker 1: galloping down the valley. But of that he said nothing,
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Speaker 1: nor did he remark again upon the uneasiness of the horses.
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Speaker 1: And then he saw first one and then a second
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Speaker 1: great white ball, a great shining white ball, like a
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Speaker 1: gigant thick head of thistledown, that drove before the wind
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Speaker 1: athwart the path. These balls soared high in the air,
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Speaker 1: and dropped and rose again, and caught for a moment,
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Speaker 1: and hurried on and passed. But at the sight of them,
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Speaker 1: the restlessness of the horses increased. Then presently he saw
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Speaker 1: that more of these drifting globes, and then soon very
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Speaker 1: many more were hurrying towards him down the valley. They
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Speaker 1: became aware of a squealing athwart the path. A huge
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Speaker 1: boar rushed, turning his head but for one instant to
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Speaker 1: glance at them, and then hurling on down the valley again.
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Speaker 1: And at that all three stopped and sat in their saddles,
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Speaker 1: staring into the thickening haze that was coming upon them.
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Speaker 1: If it were not for this thistle, young began the leader.
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Speaker 1: But now a big globe came drifting past, within a
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Speaker 1: score of yards of them. It was really not an
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Speaker 1: even sphere at all, but a vast, soft, ragged, filmy thing,
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Speaker 1: a sheet gathered by the corners, an aerial jellyfish, as
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Speaker 1: it were, but rolling over and over as it advanced,
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Speaker 1: and trailing long cobwebby threads and streamers that floated in
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Speaker 1: its wake. It isn't thistledown, said the little man. I
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Speaker 1: don't like the stuff said the gaunt man, and they
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Speaker 1: looked at one another. Curse, it, cried the leader. The
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Speaker 1: air's full of it up there. If it keeps on
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Speaker 1: at this pace long, it will stop us altogether. An
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Speaker 1: instinctive feeling, such as lines out a herd of deer
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Speaker 1: at the approach of some ambiguous thing, prompted them to
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Speaker 1: turn their horses to the wind, right forward for a
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Speaker 1: few paces, and stare at that advancing multitude of floating masses.
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Speaker 1: They came on before the wind with a sort of
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Speaker 1: smooth swiftness, rising and falling noiselessly, sinking to earth, rebounding high, soaring,
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Speaker 1: all with a perfect unanimity, with a still deliberate assurance.
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Speaker 1: Right and left of the horseman, the pioneers of this
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Speaker 1: strange army passed at one that rolled along the ground,
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Speaker 1: breaking shapelessly and trailing out reluctantly into long, grappling ribbons
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Speaker 1: and bands. All three horses began to shy and dance.
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Speaker 1: The master was seized with a sudden unreasonable impatience. He
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Speaker 1: cursed the drifting globes roundly. Get on, he cried, Get on,
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Speaker 1: What do these things matter? How can they matter? Back
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Speaker 1: to the trail, he fell, swearing at his horse, and
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Speaker 1: soared the bit across its mouth. He shouted aloud with rage,
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Speaker 1: I will follow that trail, I tell you, he cried,
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Speaker 1: where is the trail? He gripped the bridle of his
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Speaker 1: prancing horse and searched amidst the grass. A long and
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Speaker 1: clinging thread fell across his face, A gray streamer dropped
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Speaker 1: about his bridle arm. Some big, active thing with many
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Speaker 1: legs ran down the back of his head. He looked
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Speaker 1: up to discover one of those gray masses, anchored as
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Speaker 1: if were above him by these things, and flapping out
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Speaker 1: ends as a sail flapped when a boat comes about,
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Speaker 1: but noiselessly. He had an impression of many eyes, of
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Speaker 1: a dense crew of squat bodies, of long, many jointed limbs,
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Speaker 1: hauling at their mooring ropes to bring the thing down
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Speaker 1: upon him for a space. He stared up, reining in
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Speaker 1: his prancing horse with the instinct born of years of horsemanship.
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Speaker 1: Then the flat of a sword smote his back, and
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Speaker 1: a blade flashed overhead and cut the drifting balloon of
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Speaker 1: spider web free, and the whole mass lifted softly and
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Speaker 1: drove clear and away. Spiders cried the voice of the
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Speaker 1: gaunt man. The things are full of big spiders. Look,
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Speaker 1: my lord. The man with the silver bridle still followed
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Speaker 1: the mass that drove away. Look, my lord. The master
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Speaker 1: found himself staring down at a red smashed thing on
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Speaker 1: the ground that, in spite of partial obliteration, could still
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Speaker 1: wriggle unavailing legs. Then, when the count Man pointed to
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Speaker 1: another mass that bore down upon them, he drew his
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Speaker 1: sword hastily up the valley. Now it was like a
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Speaker 1: fog bank torn to rags. He tried to grasp the situation.
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Speaker 1: Ride for it. The little man was shouting, ride for
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Speaker 1: it down the valley. What happened then was like the
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Speaker 1: confusion of a battle. The man with the silver bridle
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Speaker 1: saw the little man go past him, slashing furiously at
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Speaker 1: imaginary cubwhebs, saw him cannon into the horse of the
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Speaker 1: gaunt Man and hurl it and its rider to earth.
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Speaker 1: His own horse went a dozen paces before he could
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Speaker 1: rein it in. Then he looked up to avoid imaginary dangers,
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Speaker 1: and then back again to see a horse rolling on
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Speaker 1: the ground, the gaunt Man standing and slashing over it
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Speaker 1: at a rent and fluttering mass of gray that streamed
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Speaker 1: and wrapped about them both, and thick and fast as
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Speaker 1: thistledown on waste land on a windy day in July,
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Speaker 1: the cobweb masses were coming on. The little man had dismounted,
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Speaker 1: but he dared not release his horse. He was endeavoring
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Speaker 1: to lug the struggling brute back with the strength of
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Speaker 1: one arm, while with the other he slashed aimlessly. The
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Speaker 1: tentacles of a second gray mass had entangled themselves with
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Speaker 1: the struggle, and this second gray mass came to its
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Speaker 1: moorings and slowly sank. The master set his teeth, gripped
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Speaker 1: his bridle, lowered his head, and spurred his horse forward.
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Speaker 1: The horse on the ground rolled over. There was blood
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Speaker 1: and moving shapes upon the flanks, and the gaunt man,
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Speaker 1: suddenly leaving it, ran forward towards his master, perhaps ten paces.
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Speaker 1: His legs were swathed and encumbered with gray. He made
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Speaker 1: ineffectual movements with his sword. Gray streamers waved from him.
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Speaker 1: There was a thin veil of gray across his face.
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Speaker 1: With his left hand, he beat at something on his body,
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Speaker 1: and suddenly he stumbled and fell. He struggled to rise,
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Speaker 1: and fell again, and suddenly horribly began to howl. Oh ah,
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Speaker 1: oh ah. The Master could see the great spiders upon
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Speaker 1: him and others upon the ground. As he strove to
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Speaker 1: force his horse nearer to this gesticulating, screaming gray object
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Speaker 1: that struggled up and down. There came a clatter of hoofs,
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Speaker 1: and the little man, in the act of mounting, swordless,
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Speaker 1: balanced on his belly athwart the white horse and clutching
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Speaker 1: its mane, whirled past and again a clinging thread of
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Speaker 1: gray gossamer swept across the Master's face, all about him
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Speaker 1: and over him. It seemed this drifting, noiseless cobweb circled
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Speaker 1: and drew nearer him. To the day of his death,
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Speaker 1: he never knew just how the event of that moment happened.
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Speaker 1: Did he indeed turn his horse, or did it really
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Speaker 1: of its own accord stampede after its fellow? Suffice it
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Speaker 1: that in another second he was galloping full tilt down
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Speaker 1: the valley, with his sword whirling furiously overhead and all
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Speaker 1: about us him on the quickening breeze, the spider's airships,
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Speaker 1: their air bundles and air sheets seemed to him to
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Speaker 1: hurry in a conscious pursuit. Clatter clatter, thud, thud. The
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Speaker 1: man with the silver bridle rode, heedless of his direction,
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Speaker 1: with his fearful face looking up now, right, now, left,
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Speaker 1: and his sword arm ready to slash, and a few
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Speaker 1: hundred yards ahead of him. With a tail of torn
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Speaker 1: cobweb trailing behind him, rode the little man on the
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Speaker 1: white horse, still but imperfectly in the saddle. The reeds
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Speaker 1: bent before them, the wind blew fresh and strong over
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Speaker 1: his shoulder. The Master could see the webs hurrying to overtake.
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Speaker 1: He was so intent to escape the spider's webs that
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Speaker 1: only as his horse gathered together for a leap, did
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Speaker 1: he realize the ravine ahead. And then he realized it
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Speaker 1: only to misunderstand and interfere. He was leaning forward on
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Speaker 1: his horse's neck, and sat up and back, all too late.
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Speaker 1: But if in his excitement he had failed to leap
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Speaker 1: at any rate, he had not forgotten how to fall.
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Speaker 1: He was horseman again. In mid air. He came off
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Speaker 1: clear with a mere bruise upon his shoulder, and his
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Speaker 1: horse rolled kicking spasmodic legs, and lay still. But the
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Speaker 1: Master's sword drove its point into the hard soil and
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Speaker 1: snapped clean across as though chance refused him any longer
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Speaker 1: as her night, and the splintered end missed his face
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Speaker 1: by an inch or so. He was on his feet
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Speaker 1: in a moment, breathlessly scanning the on rushing spider webs.
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Speaker 1: For a moment he was minded to run, and then
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Speaker 1: thought of the ravine and turned back. He ran aside
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Speaker 1: once to dodge one drifting terror, and then he was
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Speaker 1: swiftly clambering down the precipitous sides and out of the
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Speaker 1: touch of the gale. There, under the lee of the
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Speaker 1: dry Torrent's steeper banks, he might crouch and watch these
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Speaker 1: strange gray masses pass and pass in safety till the
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Speaker 1: wind fell and it became possible to escape. And there
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Speaker 1: for a long time he crouched, watching the strange gray,
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Speaker 1: ragged masses trail their streamers across his narrowed sky. Once
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Speaker 1: a stray spider fell into the ravine close beside him,
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Speaker 1: a full foot it measured from leg to leg, and
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Speaker 1: its body was half a man's hand. And after he
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Speaker 1: had watched its monstrous alacrity of search and escape for
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Speaker 1: a little while, and tempted it to bite his broken sword,
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Speaker 1: he lifted up his iron heeled boot and smashed it
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Speaker 1: into a pulp. He swore as he did so, and
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Speaker 1: for a time sought up and down for another. Then, presently,
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Speaker 1: when he was surer these spider swarms could not drop
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Speaker 1: into the ravine, he found a place where he could
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Speaker 1: sit down, and sat and fell into deep thought, and began,
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Speaker 1: after his manner, to gnaw his knuckles and bite his nails.
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Speaker 1: And from this he was moved by the coming of
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Speaker 1: the man with the white horse. He heard him long
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Speaker 1: before he saw him, as a clattering of hoofs, stumbling footsteps,
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Speaker 1: and a reassuring voice. Then the little man appeared, a
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Speaker 1: rueful figure, still with a tail of white cobweb trailing
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Speaker 1: behind him. They approached each other without speaking, without a salutation.
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Speaker 1: The little man was fatigued and shamed to the pitch
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Speaker 1: of hopeless bitterness, and came to a stop at last,
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Speaker 1: face to face with his seated master. The latter winced
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Speaker 1: a little under his dependent's eye. Well, he said, at last,
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Speaker 1: with no pretense of authority, you left him. My horse bolted.
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Speaker 1: I know, so did mine. He laughed at his master mirthlessly.
21:43
Speaker 1: I say my horse bolted, said the man who once
21:47
Speaker 1: had a silver studded bridle cowards, both, said the little man.
21:52
Speaker 1: The other gnawed his knuckle through some meditative moments with
21:56
Speaker 1: his eye on his inferior. Don't call me a c
22:00
Speaker 1: he said at length. You are a coward, like myself.
22:04
Speaker 1: A coward. Possibly there is a limit beyond which every
22:07
Speaker 1: man must fear. That I have learnt at last, but
22:10
Speaker 1: not like yourself. That is where the difference comes in.
22:14
Speaker 1: I never could have dreamt you would have left him.
22:17
Speaker 1: He saved your life two minutes before. Why are you
22:21
Speaker 1: our lord? The Master gnawed his knuckles again, and his
22:26
Speaker 1: countenance was dark. No man calls me a coward, he said. No.
22:32
Speaker 1: A broken sword is better than none. One spavined white
22:35
Speaker 1: horse cannot be expected to carry two men a four
22:39
Speaker 1: days journey. I hate white horses, but this time it
22:42
Speaker 1: cannot be helped. You begin to understand me. I perceive
22:45
Speaker 1: that you are minded on the strength of what you've seen,
22:48
Speaker 1: and fancy to taint my reputation. It is men of
22:53
Speaker 1: your sort who unmake kings beside which I never liked you,
22:58
Speaker 1: my lord, said the little man. No, said the Master. No.
23:04
Speaker 1: He stood up sharply as the little man moved for
23:06
Speaker 1: a minute, Perhaps they faced one another overhead, the spider's
23:11
Speaker 1: balls went driving. There was a quick movement among the pebbles,
23:15
Speaker 1: a running of feet, a cry of despair, and a
23:18
Speaker 1: gasp and a blow. Towards nightfall, the wind fell, the
23:24
Speaker 1: sun sat in a calm serenity, and the man who
23:28
Speaker 1: had once possessed the silver bridle came at last, very cautiously,
23:33
Speaker 1: and by an easy slope out of the ravine again.
23:36
Speaker 1: But now he led the white horse that at once
23:40
Speaker 1: belonged to the little man. He would have gone back
23:43
Speaker 1: to his horse to get his silver mounted bridle again,
23:46
Speaker 1: but he feared night and a quickening breeze might still
23:49
Speaker 1: find him in the valley. And besides, he disliked greatly
23:53
Speaker 1: to think he might discover his horse all swathed in
23:57
Speaker 1: cobwebs and perhaps unpleasant eaten. And as he thought of
24:03
Speaker 1: those cobwebs, and of all the dangers he had been through,
24:07
Speaker 1: and the manner in which he had been preserved that day,
24:10
Speaker 1: his hand sought a little reliquary that hung about his neck,
24:14
Speaker 1: and he clasped it for a moment with heartfelt gratitude.
24:18
Speaker 1: As he did so, his eyes went across the valley.
24:21
Speaker 1: I was hot with passion. He said, and now she
24:24
Speaker 1: has met her reward. They also no doubt, And behold,
24:28
Speaker 1: far away out of the wooded slopes across the valley,
24:32
Speaker 1: but in the clearness of the sunset, distinct and unmistakable,
24:36
Speaker 1: he saw a little spire of smoke. At that his
24:40
Speaker 1: expression of serene resignation changed to an amazed anger. Smoke.
24:45
Speaker 1: He turned the head of the white horse about and hesitated,
24:49
Speaker 1: And as he did so, a little rustle of air
24:51
Speaker 1: went through the grass about him. Far away, upon some
24:55
Speaker 1: reeds swayed a tattered sheet of gray. He looked at
24:59
Speaker 1: the cobwebs. He looked at the smoke. Perhaps, after all,
25:03
Speaker 1: it is not them, he said at last, But he
25:06
Speaker 1: knew better. After he had stared at the smoke for
25:09
Speaker 1: some time, he mounted the white horse. As he rode,
25:14
Speaker 1: he picked his way amidst stranded masses of web. For
25:18
Speaker 1: some reason, there were many dead spiders on the ground,
25:21
Speaker 1: and those that lived feasted guiltily on their fellows. At
25:25
Speaker 1: the sound of his horse's hoofs, they fled. Their time
25:29
Speaker 1: had passed from the ground, without either a wind to
25:33
Speaker 1: carry them or a winding sheet ready. These things, for
25:37
Speaker 1: all their poison, could do him little evil. He flicked
25:41
Speaker 1: with his belt at those he fancied came too near. Once,
25:46
Speaker 1: where a number ran together over a bare place, he
25:49
Speaker 1: was minded to dismount and trample them with his boots,
25:53
Speaker 1: But this impulse he overcame. Ever and again he turned
25:57
Speaker 1: in his saddle and looked back at the smoke spiders.
26:01
Speaker 1: He muttered, over and over again, spiders. Well, well, the
26:06
Speaker 1: next time I must spin a web. End of Section
26:11
Speaker 1: twenty six