The Dingo [antikvár]

A fine fishing line cut the water. The thick tree root, lying on the river's sandy bottom, stirred slightly. A young girl was fishing for trout. She sat motionless on a large rock, the noises of the river rolling over her. The shimmering light over the water tired her eyes, and she looked down absently, her glance straying now and again to the distant mountains, whose curving shapes, overshadowed by forest, dominated the river. The air was luminous, and the sky, imprisoned by the mountains, was like a valley lit by the gentle beams of sunset. But it was not the sky, familiar to her from childhood, that held her gaze. Wide-eyed, she followed the eternally flowing water, trying to imagine the un- known parts that the river had come from and the strange lands where it was going. She yearned to see new countries, a different world, where dwelt such creatures as the dingo, the wild dog of Australia. She longed to become a pilot and a singer too. She began to sing, quietly at first, then louder. She had a pleasant voice. But there was no one to hear her: she was quite alone. Startled by her song, a water rat, hiding near the root, splashed into the water and swam towards a clump of rushes, dragging a green reed after it to its hole. The reed was long, and the rat struggled vainly to pull it through the thick weeds. The girl looked pityingly at the rat and stopped singing. Then, rising, she brought in her line.