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           Hereandtheregleamsasofafewscatteredpiecesofsilvermarkedthewindingsofthegreatriver;andonthenearestofthem,justwithinthebar,thetugsteamingrightintothelandbecamelosttomysight,hullandfunnelandmasts,asthoughtheimpassiveearthhadswallowedherupwithoutaneffort,withoutatremor.Myeyefollowedthelightcloudofhersmoke,nowhere,nowthere,abovetheplain,accordingtothedeviouscurvesofthestream,butalwaysfainterandfartheraway,tillIlostitatlastbehindthemiter-shapedhillofthegreatpagoda.AndthenIwasleftalonewithmyship,anchoredattheheadoftheGulfofSiam.

           Shefloatedatthestartingpointofalongjourney,verystillinanimmensestillness,theshadowsofhersparsflungfartotheeastwardbythesettingsun.AtthatmomentIwasaloneonherdecks.Therewasnotasoundinher—andaroundusnothingmoved,nothinglived,notacanoeonthewater,notabirdintheair,notacloudinthesky.Inthisbreathlesspauseatthethresholdofalongpassageweseemedtobemeasuringourfitnessforalongandarduousenterprise,theappointedtaskofbothourexistencestobecarriedout,farfromallhumaneyes,withonlyskyandseaforspectatorsandforjudges.

           Theremusthavebeensomeglareintheairtointerferewithone’ssight,becauseitwasonlyjustbeforethesunleftusthatmyroamingeyesmadeoutbeyondthehighestridgesoftheprincipalisletofthegroupsomethingwhichdidawaywiththesolemnityofperfectsolitude.

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