"H. Warner Munn - The Ship from Atlantis" - читать интересную книгу автора (Munn H Warner)

was inevitable, the last of the jars was emptied and all of the water was
gone.

The brassy sky gave no promise of rain and his only relief now came
from the moisture deposited upon the sail during the night, but the few
drops he was able to gather tantalized him more than they satisfied. He
searched through Merlin's chest for something to drink and found a small
vial which held little more than a spoonful of clear syrup. It was pleasantly
sweet and pungent and he drank it all.

Merlin had kept himself hale and hearty with it for many years, doling
it out drop by drop, and Gwalchmai, in his proper senses, might have
planned in other circumstances to do the same. It was a priceless potion
worth all the gathered treasure of many a king. Gwalchmai was only aware
that he no longer felt thirst, not knowing that he had emptied the only
bottle in all the world which had ever contained the Elixir of Life.

Now he did not crave water. His cracked lips healed and he felt strong
and exhilarated. Each evening he marked that the remote gleam had come
a little nearer and it seemed that a form was almost visible in that far
shining objectтАФa form that as yet he could not recognize.

Once, when marking the downward progress of the sun, he saw
upthrust against its half-hidden disk a protuberance from the sea. Tall,
snaky, with huge horse head and shaggy mane, dripping water and weed,
it poised there looking out over the surface in search of prey, but did not
spy the ship and sank again, the sun descending with it.
 Weary of the weight of his sword, he had given up the wearing of it
some weeks before. Now he went thoughtfully below and strapped it on
again. From that time, waking or sleeping, the sword never left his side.

Gwalchmai slid down a stay, through the rotting sail tatters of crimson
and green, and pondered for a moment. From his lately accustomed post
at the mast he had discovered that it was now possible to come closer to
the mystery which interested him.

The moon had waxed and waned since any perceptible movement
had-taken place in the ship's position, but this morning that oddly
enticing glimmer had come much closer to him. Near now, scarcely a mile
away, it looked like a glided long-necked waterfowl, asleep with head
bowed upon its breast. Could there be birds of such hugeness in the
world?

Rain had fallen some days previously and now while he ate and drank
he studied the route he might take to reach it.

As though to coax him on where his wishes led him, a lane had opened
in the weed overnight where there had been no sign of one when he had
retired. Passing within a hundred feet of his vessel, it veered eastward
directly toward the curious bird.