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Schreiner, Olive, 1855-1920

"The Story of an African Farm, a novel"

Then he
went home with his empty bag, moody and silent. His comrades came
questioning about him to know the reason, but he answered them nothing; he
sat alone and brooded. Then his friend came to him, and to him he spoke.
"'I have seen today,' he said, 'that which I never saw before--a vast white
bird, with silver wings outstretched, sailing in the everlasting blue. And
now it is as though a great fire burnt within my breast. It was but a
sheen, a shimmer, a reflection in the water; but now I desire nothing more
on earth than to hold her.'
"His friend laughed.
"'It was but a beam playing on the water, or the shadow of your own head.
Tomorrow you will forget her,' he said.
"But tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow the hunter walked alone. He
sought in the forest and in the woods, by the lakes and among the rushes,
but he could not find her. He shot no more wild fowl; what were they to
him?
"'What ails him?' said his comrades.
"'He is mad,' said one.
"'No; but he is worse,' said another; 'he would see that which none of us
have seen, and make himself a wonder.'
"'Come, let us forswear his company,' said all.
"So the hunter walked alone.
"One night, as he wandered in the shade, very heartsore and weeping, an old
man stood before him, grander and taller than the sons of men.


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