Perhaps even now she was seeking her master by the greener
pasture of the wide plains around me. Perhaps the far-off sea was her
green sepulchre. But many waters cannot quench love. I faced,
friendless and discomfited, a region as strange to me as the farther
side of the moon.
Without more ado I rose, shook myself, and sadly began to go forward.
But I had taken only a few steps along the banks of the stream--for
here was fresh water, at least--when a sound like distant thunder
rolled over these flat, green lands towards me, increasing steadily in
volume.
I stood, lost in wonder, and presently, at the distance, perhaps, of a
little less than a mile, descried an innumerable herd of horses
streaming across these level pastures, and at the extremity, it
seemed, of a wide ellipse, that had brought them near, and now was
galloping them away.
My heart beat a little faster at this extraordinary spectacle. And
while I stood in uncertainty gazing after the retreating concourse, I
perceived a figure running towards me, lifting his hands and crying
out in a voice sonorous and inhuman.
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