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Strindberg, August, 1849-1912

"Historical Miniatures"

"
"That is because it resembles his far Eastern plains--the same soil,
the same plants and birds; he feels at home here."
They became silent, as the sun rose and the heat increased. The
low-growing tamarisk, wormwood, and soda-bushes afforded no shade.
Wild fowl and larks were the only creatures that inhabited the waste.
The herds of cattle, goats, and swine had disappeared, for Attila's
army of half a million had eaten them up, and his horses had not left
a single edible blade of grass.
At noon the caravan came suddenly to a halt, for on the eastern
horizon there was visible a town with towers and pinnacles, on the
other side of a blue lake. "Are we there?" asked Edeko. "Impossible;
it is still twenty miles, or three days' journey."
But the city was in sight, and the caravan quickened its pace. After
half an hour the town appeared no nearer, but seemed, on the contrary,
to grow more distant, to dwindle in size, and to sink out of sight.
After another half hour, it had disappeared, and the blue lake also.
"They can practise enchantment," said the Roman, "but that goes
beyond everything."
"It is the Fata Morgana, or the mirage," explained the guide.
As the evening came on, the caravan halted in order to rest for the
night.
* * * * *
On the stretch of land between Bodrog and Theiss, Attila had his
standing camp, for it could not be called a town.


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