Файл:The hunt for a prisoner.jpg

Identifier: russia00dobsrich (find matches)
Title: Russia;
Year: 1913 (1910s)
Authors: Dobson, George Grove, Henry M Stewart, Hugh, 1884-1934 Haenen, F. de
Subjects: Soviet Union -- Description and travel
Publisher: London, A. and C. Black
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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ildren tothem, kneel and embrace them, and offer wheat earsand kopecks. They and the kurgam alone breakthe expanse of the steppe. The roads are enor-mously wide, often hundreds of feet, and from thembreak off others that run mysteriously toward somevillage or hhutor, hidden under the horizon, or losethemselves in the vastness. At the present day little of the steppe remainsvirgin. But in spring it is covered with a carpet aswonderful as that which Marlowe saw spread imderthe Eastern conquerors chariot-wheels. Amid thegreen growth are plants with bright flowers likepoppies that colour broad distances red, blue, oryellow ; and then, except that the grasses are lower,the steppe is for all the world like what it was whenTaras Bulba and his sons rode through it, withtheir black Cossack hats alone seen above theverdure on their way to the Setch : The farther they went, the more beautiful be-came the steppe. At that time all the south, all thatexpanse which is now New Russia, right up to the
Text Appearing After Image:
••r^i &y^:^ THE HUNT FOR A IUISONKR THE STEPPE 439 Black Sea, was a green virgin wilderness. Neverhad plough passed over the immeasurable waves ofwild growth; only the horses, hidden in it as in awood, trampled it down. Nothing in Nature couldbe finer. The wliole surface of the earth was agreen-gold ocean splashed with millions of differentcoloured flowers. ^Jhrough the thin high stalks ofgrass twinkled blue and lilac cornflowers, and theyellow broom spread forth its spiry crest; the palemilfoil \ariegated the surface with its parasol-likeleaves; an ear of wheat, carried Heaven knowswhence, was burgeoning amid the profusion of wildplants. Partridges, protruding their necks, peckedunder the delicate roots. The air was full of athousand different bird-notes. In the sky poisedhawks, unmo\dng on outspread wings, and fixingunmoving eyes on the grass. The cry of a cloud ofwild geese flying in the distance was echoed inGod knows what distant mere. From the grass agull rose with measu

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