"Dunsany, Lord - Idle Days On The Yann" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dunsany Lord)

beating upon drums as we passed Imaut and Golzunda, then all
but the helmsman slept. And villages scattered along the
banks of the Yann heard all that night in the helmsman's
unknown tongue the little songs of cities that they knew
not.
I awoke before dawn with a feeling that I was unhappy
before I remembered why. Then I recalled that by the
evening of the approaching day, according to all foreseen
probabilities, we should come to Bar-Wul-Yann, and I should
part from the captain and his sailors. And I had liked the
man because he had given me of his yellow wine that was set
apart among his sacred things, and many a story he had told
me about his fair Belzoond between the Acroctian hills and
the Hian Min. And I had liked the ways that his sailors
had, and the prayers that they prayed at evening side by
side, grudging not one another their alien gods. And I had
a liking too for the tender way in which they often spoke of
Durl and Duz, for it is good that men should love their
native cities and the little hills that hold those cities
up.
And I had come to know who would meet them when they
returned to their homes, and where they thought the meetings
would take place, some in a valley of the Acroctian hills
where the road comes up from Yann, others in the gateway of
one or another of the three cities, and others by the
fireside in the home. And I thought of the danger that had
menaced us all alike outside Perdondaris, a danger that, as
things have happened, was very real.
And I thought too of the helmsman's cheery song in the
cold and lonely night, and how he had held our lives in his
careful hands. And as I thought of this the helmsman ceased
to sing, and I looked up and saw a pale light had appeared
in the sky, and the lonely night had passed; and the dawn
widened, and the sailors awoke.
And soon we saw the tide of the Sea himself advancing
resolute between Yann's borders, and Yann sprang lithely at
him and they struggled awhile; then Yann and all that was
his were pushed back northward, so that the sailors had to
hoist the sails and, the wind being favorable, we still held
onwards.
And we passed Gondara and Narl and Haz. And we saw
memorable, holy Golnuz, and heard the pilgrims praying.
When we awoke after the midday rest we were coming near
to Nen, the last of the cities on the River Yann. And the
jungle was all about us once again, and about Nen; but the
great Mloon ranges stood up over all things, and watched the
city from beyond the jungle.
Here we anchored, and the captain and I went up into the
city and found that the Wanderers had come into Nen.
And the Wanderers were a weird, dark, tribe, that once in