Кладбище домашних животных

22

           "Cutintorock.Forty-twoorforty-four,Idisrememberwhich.Justfollowme.Wegettothetopandwe’rethere."

           Hebegantoclimbagain,andagainLouisfollowed.

           Thestonestepswerewideenough,butthesenseofthegrounddroppingawaywasunsettling.Hereandtherehisshoegrittedonastrewofpebblesandstonefragments.

           ...twelve...thirteen...fourteen...

           Thewindwassharper,colder,quicklynumbinghisface.Areweabovethetreeline?hewondered.Helookedupandsawabillionstars,coldlightsinthedarkness.Neverinhislifehadthestarsmadehimfeelsocompletelysmall,infinitesimal,withoutmeaning.Heaskedhimselftheoldquestionisthereanythingintelligentoutthere?andinsteadofwonder,thethoughtbroughtahorridcoldfeeling,asifhehadaskedhimselfwhatitmightbeliketoeatahandfulofsquirmingbugs.

           ...twenty-six...twenty-seven...twenty-eight...

           Whocarvedthese,anyway?Indians?TheMicmacs?Weretheytool-bearingIndians?I’llhavetoaskJud."Tool-bearingIndians"madehimthinkof"fur-bearinganimals,"andthatmadehimthinkofthatthingthathadbeenmovingneartheminthewoods.Onefootstumbled,andherakedaglovedhandalongtherockwalltohisleftforbalance.Thewallfeltold,chippedandchanneledandwrinkled.Likedryskinthat’salmostwornout,hethought.

           "Youallright,Louis?"Judmurmured.

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