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- Стр. 7/23
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"
Bogota
,
"
he
said
.
"
Bogota
.
Over
the
mountain
crests
.
"
"
A
wild
man
--
using
wild
words
,
"
said
Pedro
.
"
Did
you
hear
that
--
Bogota
?
His
mind
is
hardly
formed
yet
.
He
has
only
the
beginnings
of
speech
.
"
A
little
boy
nipped
his
hand
.
"
Bogota
!
"
he
said
mockingly
.
"
Ay
!
A
city
to
your
village
.
I
come
from
the
great
world
--
where
men
have
eyes
and
see
.
"
"
His
name
's
Bogota
,
"
they
said
.
"
He
stumbled
,
"
said
Correa
,
"
stumbled
twice
as
we
came
hither
.
"
"
Bring
him
to
the
elders
.
"
And
they
thrust
him
suddenly
through
a
doorway
into
a
room
as
black
as
pitch
,
save
at
the
end
there
faintly
glowed
a
fire
.
The
crowd
closed
in
behind
him
and
shut
out
all
but
the
faintest
glimmer
of
day
,
and
before
he
could
arrest
himself
he
had
fallen
headlong
over
the
feet
of
a
seated
man
.
His
arm
,
outflung
,
struck
the
face
of
someone
else
as
he
went
down
;
he
felt
the
soft
impact
of
features
and
heard
a
cry
of
anger
,
and
for
a
moment
he
struggled
against
a
number
of
hands
that
clutched
him
.
It
was
a
one-sided
fight
.
An
inkling
of
the
situation
came
to
him
,
and
he
lay
quiet
.
"
I
fell
down
,
"
he
said
;
"
I
could
n't
see
in
this
pitchy
darkness
.
"
There
was
a
pause
as
if
the
unseen
persons
about
him
tried
to
understand
his
words
.
Then
the
voice
of
Correa
said
:
"
He
is
but
newly
formed
.
He
stumbles
as
he
walks
and
mingles
words
that
mean
nothing
with
his
speech
.
"
