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Bernard
did
not
attempt
to
deny
it
.
They
walked
on
.
Suddenly
it
was
as
though
the
whole
air
had
come
alive
and
were
pulsing
,
pulsing
with
the
indefatigable
movement
of
blood
.
Up
there
,
in
Malpais
,
the
drums
were
being
beaten
.
Their
feet
fell
in
with
the
rhythm
of
that
mysterious
heart
;
they
quickened
their
pace
.
Their
path
led
them
to
the
foot
of
the
precipice
.
The
sides
of
the
great
mesa
ship
towered
over
them
,
three
hundred
feet
to
the
gunwale
.
"
I
wish
we
could
have
brought
the
plane
,
"
said
Lenina
,
looking
up
resentfully
at
the
blank
impending
rock
-
face
.
"
I
hate
walking
.
And
you
feel
so
small
when
you
’
re
on
the
ground
at
the
bottom
of
a
hill
.
"
They
walked
along
for
some
way
in
the
shadow
of
the
mesa
,
rounded
a
projection
,
and
there
,
in
a
water
-
worn
ravine
,
was
the
way
up
the
companion
ladder
.
They
climbed
.
It
was
a
very
steep
path
that
zigzagged
from
side
to
side
of
the
gully
.
Sometimes
the
pulsing
of
the
drums
was
all
but
inaudible
,
at
others
they
seemed
to
be
beating
only
just
round
the
corner
.
When
they
were
half
-
way
up
,
an
eagle
flew
past
so
close
to
them
that
the
wind
of
his
wings
blew
chill
on
their
faces
.
In
a
crevice
of
the
rock
lay
a
pile
of
bones
.
It
was
all
oppressively
queer
,
and
the
Indian
smelt
stronger
and
stronger
.
They
emerged
at
last
from
the
ravine
into
the
full
sunlight
.
The
top
of
the
mesa
was
a
flat
deck
of
stone
.
"
Like
the
Charing
-
T
Tower
,
"
was
Lenina
’
s
comment
.
But
she
was
not
allowed
to
enjoy
her
discovery
of
this
reassuring
resemblance
for
long
.
A
padding
of
soft
feet
made
them
turn
round
.
Naked
from
throat
to
navel
,
their
dark
brown
bodies
painted
with
white
lines
(
"
like
asphalt
tennis
courts
,
"
Lenina
was
later
to
explain
)
,
their
faces
inhuman
with
daubings
of
scarlet
,
black
and
ochre
,
two
Indians
came
running
along
the
path
.
Their
black
hair
was
braided
with
fox
fur
and
red
flannel
.
Cloaks
of
turkey
feathers
fluttered
from
their
shoulders
;
huge
feather
diadems
exploded
gaudily
round
their
heads
.
With
every
step
they
took
came
the
clink
and
rattle
of
their
silver
bracelets
,
their
heavy
necklaces
of
bone
and
turquoise
beads
.
They
came
on
without
a
word
,
running
quietly
in
their
deerskin
moccasins
.
One
of
them
was
holding
a
feather
brush
;
the
other
carried
,
in
either
hand
,
what
looked
at
a
distance
like
three
or
four
pieces
of
thick
rope
.
One
of
the
ropes
writhed
uneasily
,
and
suddenly
Lenina
saw
that
they
were
snakes
.
The
men
came
nearer
and
nearer
;
their
dark
eyes
looked
at
her
,
but
without
giving
any
sign
of
recognition
,
any
smallest
sign
that
they
had
seen
her
or
were
aware
of
her
existence
.
The
writhing
snake
hung
limp
again
with
the
rest
.
The
men
passed
.
"
I
don
’
t
like
it
,
"
said
Lenina
.
"
I
don
’
t
like
it
.
"
