"Jerry Oltion & Kent Patterson - Dutchmans Gold" - читать интересную книгу автора (Oltion Jerry)

quarter moon. Not a cloud, or a puff of wind, marred the perfect calm. Clumsily,
he stood up.

Not only had the storm stopped in a split second, the ground wasn't wet. And
where did all this brush come from ? There was no brush this near Death Valley.
It was taller than he was, and so thick the four of them could barely force a
way through.

When they finally got to a clearing, Peter said, "You've. been here before, Jan.
Do you know where we are?"

"I've never seen this ravine." In the moonlight Jan could see two sharp peaks
prodding the distant sky like vampire's teeth. Why had he never noticed them
before? He itched for a better look at them.

Right now, though, the most important thing was to get warm. The ground here
might be dry, but they were still soaked. In a few minutes they gathered enough
dry grass to make a pad, and lay on the ground, huddled together like kittens in
the cold.

As Jan began to grow warmer, the situation felt less desperate. They could not
possibly have traveled more than a couple of miles from camp. Come morning they
could climb out of this ravine and probably see the van in plain sight.

Lying on his back with Frieda breathing softly in his ear, Jan looked into the
sky. As a boy scout, he had learned the major constellations, but now he didn't
recognize anything. Well, anything but the famous Southern Cross, which couldn't
possibly be, because it never appeared in the Northern Hemisphere.

Something weird was going on here. He wished he had his camera, but that was
probably buried under a yard of mud. He had to record this somehow, though.
Nobody would believe him otherwise.

Careful not to wake Frieda, he eased the notebook and pen he always carried with
him out of his shirt pocket. On a blank page he drew the constellations as
accurately as he could, including the horizon for reference. He checked the time
and wrote that down as well, then tucked the notebook back into his pocket. When
he got back to civilization he would try to figure out what it all meant, but he
saw no need to cause a panic now.

He decided he'd better not mention seeing the Southern Cross even in the
morning.

Morning dawned foggy and cool. Not your typical Death Valley weather, Jan
thought. During the night, he had convinced himself he had been dreaming about
the Southern Cross, the vanishing storm, and the shifting mountains. Well, now
that day had come, at least the Southern Cross was gone.

On the other hand, getting back to camp looked tougher than he had hoped. A
rocky cliff barred the way down the ravine, so they could walk in only one