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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"The Strange Case of Cavendish"


Intense fear gripped her and it seemed as if every drop of blood in her
veins stood still. The change was like a leap into fairy land; as
though they had emerged from the mouth of hell into the beauty of
paradise. They were in a green, watered valley, a clear stream
wandering here and there through its centre, shadowed by groves of
trees. All about, as far as eye could reach, stood great precipices,
their bold, rugged fronts rising hundreds of feet, unbroken, and
unscalable; the sun directly above bathed these with showers of gold,
and cast a blanket of colour across the sheltered valley.
This valley itself was nearly square, possibly extending not over a
mile in either direction, merely a great hole rimmed by desert, a
strange, hidden oasis, rendered fertile and green by some outburst of
fresh water from the rocks. Emerging upon it in midst of the barren
desolation through which they had been toiling for hours, blinded by
alkali dust, jolted down that dangerous decline, it seemed like some
beautiful dream, a fantasy of imagination.


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