The Grasshoppers Come !

The Grasshoppers Come !

He CLIMBED out of the cockpit and hobbled across the water-course. The ground was thickly strewn with round pebbles and stones, interspersed with a few large boulders. The bed of the water-course was perhaps a hundred yards across. The aeroplane had crashed on the hand northern side of it, which wreaks had chosen at the last moment as the boulders were fewer there. On the far side was a little trickle of water running among the stones, expanded here and there in its course into shallow stagnant pools, marked by a clump of reeds or coarse grass. On the bed of the water- course itself there was no vegetation growing among the white and blue polished stones. Wreaks scooped up water to wash his hands and face, then he filled the empty thermos with water and drank his fill, and then made a little pit in the bed of the trickle of water and held his injured foot in it. The water was pleasant and refreshing, though not very cold. It tasted of iron. “It’s handy,” he said”But what a place to crash.” When he turned and saw the machine lying in a river-bed among so many broken boulders and big rocks he marvelled how he had got down without worse damage. There were no traces of life at the pool: no footprints of beasts or birds. “There must be other water not far off that they prefer,” he argued”I shall have to shoot something for supper. Luckily I’ve still got my pistol.”

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