Поющие в терновнике

           Itwasmuchnicerthantheship,clickingalongtotherhythmichuff-a-huffofthetwoengines,listeningtothewindinthetelegraphwires,theoccasionalflurryoffurioushuffsassteelwheelsslippedonslopingsteelrails,franticallysoughttraction;Meggiewenttosleep.

           Inthemorningtheystared,awedanddismayed,atalandscapesoalientheyhadnotdreamedanythinglikeitexistedonthesameplanetasNewZealand.Therollinghillsweretherecertainly,butabsolutelynothingelsereminiscentofhome.Itwasallbrownandgrey,eventhetrees!Thewinterwheatwasalreadyturnedafawnishsilverbytheglaringsun,milesuponmilesofitripplingandbendinginthewind,brokenonlybystandsofthin,spinding,blue-leafedtreesanddustyclumpsoftiredgreybushes.Fee’sstoicaleyessurveyedthescenewithoutchangingexpression,butpoorMeggie’swerefulloftears.Itwashorrible,fencelessandvast,withoutatraceofgreen.

           Fromfreezingnightitturnedtoscorchingdayasthesunclimbedtowarditszenithandthetrainracketedonandonandon,stoppingoccasionallyinsometinytownfullofbicyclesandhorse-drawnvehicles;carswerescarceouthere,itseemed.Paddyopenedboththewindowsallthewayinspiteofthesootwhichswirledinandsettledoneverything;itwassohottheyweregasping,theirheavyNewZealandwinterclothingstickinganditching.Itdidnotseempossiblethatanywhereoutsideofhellcouldbesohotinwinter.