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Baring, Maurice, 1874-1945

"Orpheus in Mayfair and Other Stories and Sketches"

"I think it was a good thing to land," he said. "Let's
go on now."
They walked towards the wood, and the nearer they got to it the more
their surprise increased. It was a thick wood of large oak trees which
must certainly have been a hundred years old. When they had got quite
close to it they paused.
"Before we explore the wood," said Lewis, "let us climb the hill and see
if we can get a general view of the island."
Stewart agreed, and they climbed the hill in silence. When they reached
the top they found it was not the highest point of the island, but only
one of several hills, so that they obtained only a limited view. The
valleys seemed to be densely wooded, and the oak wood was larger than
they had imagined. They laid down and rested and lit their pipes.
"No birds," remarked Lewis gloomily.
"I haven't seen one--the island is extraordinarily still," said Stewart.
The further they had penetrated inland the more oppressive and sultry
the air had become; and the pungent aroma they had noticed directly
was stronger. It was like that of mint, and yet it was not mint; and
although sweet it was not agreeable. The heat seemed to weigh even on
Stewart's buoyant spirits, for he sat smoking in silence, and no longer
urged Lewis to continue their exploration.
"I think the island is inhabited," said Lewis, "and that the houses
are on the other side.


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