Nostromo - A Tale of the Seaboard.pdf - Planet eBook

CHAPTER EIGHTAFTER landing from his swim Nostromo had scrambledup, all dripping, into the main quadrangle ofthe old fort; and there, amongst ruined bits of walls androtting remnants of roofs and sheds, he had slept the daythrough. He had slept in the shadow of the mountains, inthe white blaze of noon, in the stillness and solitude ofthat overgrown piece of land between the oval of the harbourand the spacious semi-circle of the gulf. He lay as ifdead. A rey-zamuro, appearing like a tiny black speck inthe blue, stooped, circling prudently with a stealthiness offlight startling in a bird of that great size. The shadow ofhis pearly-white body, of his black-tipped wings, fell on thegrass no more silently than he alighted himself on a hillockof rubbish within three yards of that man, lying as still asa corpse. The bird stretched his bare neck, craned his baldhead, loathsome in the brilliance of varied colouring, withan air of voracious anxiety towards the promising stillnessof that prostrate body. Then, sinking his head deeply intohis soft plumage, he settled himself to wait. The first thingupon which Nostromo’s eyes fell on waking was this patientwatcher for the signs of death and corruption. Whenthe man got up the vulture hopped away in great, side-long,fluttering jumps. He lingered for a while, morose and reluctant,before he rose, circling noiselessly with a sinister