16 The Wine-Dark Sea - Libro della tutto

Patrick O'Brian The Wine-Dark Sea
were now quite near the snow-line, above sixteen
thousand feet. He had never been so
high, and he had every right to be mountainsick:
this was no discreditable weakness.
Already smoke was rising from the guanaco
dung, the woody fungus heads and a few of
those bushes that burned green; and presently
the gourds of maté were passing round.
Stephen drew in the hot cheering gusts
through his silver tube, ate a dried peach from
Chile, and then like all the rest he drew out his
pouch of coca-leaves, preparing a moderate
ball spread with quinoa ash, chewed it slightly
to start the flow and then eased it into his
cheek. The familiar tingling began almost at
once, followed by the beginning of that curious
numbness which had so startled him many
years ago.
Mountain-sickness faded, anxiety with it;
strength returned. He gazed at the climbing