The two animals rambled along side by side, their feet sinking into the
silent sand.
When they had passed the mountain of the Hot Springs, they went on at a
more rapid rate, the ground being firmer.
But although it was the season for sowing and ploughing, the fields were
as empty as the desert as far as the eye could reach. Here and there
were scattered heaps of corn; at other places the barley was shedding
its reddened ears. The villages showed black upon the clear horizon,
with shapes incoherently carved.
From time to time a half-calcined piece of wall would be found standing
on the edge of the road. The roofs of the cottages were falling in, and
in the interiors might be distinguished fragments of pottery, rags of
clothing, and all kinds of unrecognisable utensils and broken things.
Often a creature clothed in tatters, with earthy face and flaming eyes
would emerge from these ruins. But he would very quickly begin to run or
would disappear into a hole. Salammbo and her guide did not stop.
Deserted plains succeeded one another. Charcoal dust which was raised by
their feet behind them, stretched in unequal trails over large spaces
of perfectly white soil. Sometimes they came upon little peaceful spots,
where a brook flowed amid the long grass; and as they ascended the other
bank Salammbo would pluck damp leaves to cool her hands.
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