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- Жюль Верн
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- Дети капитана Гранта
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- Стр. 145/501
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Limpid
RIOS
intersected
these
plains
,
and
lost
themselves
among
the
tall
grasses
.
The
ground
had
once
more
become
a
dead
level
,
the
last
mountains
of
the
Pampas
were
passed
,
and
a
long
carpet
of
verdure
unrolled
itself
over
the
monotonous
prairie
beneath
the
horses
'
tread
.
Hitherto
the
weather
had
been
fine
,
but
to-day
the
sky
presented
anything
but
a
reassuring
appearance
.
The
heavy
vapors
,
generated
by
the
high
temperature
of
the
preceding
days
,
hung
in
thick
clouds
,
which
ere
long
would
empty
themselves
in
torrents
of
rain
.
Moreover
,
the
vicinity
of
the
Atlantic
,
and
the
prevailing
west
wind
,
made
the
climate
of
this
district
particularly
damp
.
This
was
evident
by
the
fertility
and
abundance
of
the
pasture
and
its
dark
color
.
However
,
the
clouds
remained
unbroken
for
the
present
,
and
in
the
evening
,
after
a
brisk
gallop
of
forty
miles
,
the
horses
stopped
on
the
brink
of
deep
CANADAS
,
immense
natural
trenches
filled
with
water
.
No
shelter
was
near
,
and
ponchos
had
to
serve
both
for
tents
and
coverlets
as
each
man
lay
down
and
fell
asleep
beneath
the
threatening
sky
.
Next
day
the
presence
of
water
became
still
more
sensibly
felt
;
it
seemed
to
exude
from
every
pore
of
the
ground
.
Soon
large
ponds
,
some
just
beginning
to
form
,
and
some
already
deep
,
lay
across
the
route
to
the
east
.
As
long
as
they
had
only
to
deal
with
lagoons
,
circumscribed
pieces
of
water
unencumbered
with
aquatic
plants
,
the
horses
could
get
through
well
enough
,
but
when
they
encountered
moving
sloughs
called
PENTANOS
,
it
was
harder
work
.
Tall
grass
blocked
them
up
,
and
they
were
involved
in
the
peril
before
they
were
aware
.
These
bogs
had
already
proved
fatal
to
more
than
one
living
thing
,
for
Robert
,
who
had
got
a
good
bit
ahead
of
the
party
,
came
rushing
back
at
full
gallop
,
calling
out
:
"
Monsieur
Paganel
,
Monsieur
Paganel
,
a
forest
of
horns
.
"
"
What
!
"
exclaimed
the
geographer
;
"
you
have
found
a
forest
of
horns
?
"
"
Yes
,
yes
,
or
at
any
rate
a
coppice
.
"
"
A
coppice
!
"
replied
Paganel
,
shrugging
his
shoulders
.
"
My
boy
,
you
are
dreaming
.
"
"
I
am
not
dreaming
,
and
you
will
see
for
yourself
.
Well
,
this
is
a
strange
country
.
They
sow
horns
,
and
they
sprout
up
like
wheat
.
I
wish
I
could
get
some
of
the
seed
.
"
