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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"From Mine Own People"

As the light grew stronger I
saw that I was at the bottom of a horse-shoe shaped crater of sand, opening on
one side directly on to the shoals of the Sutlej. My fever had altogether left
me, and, with the exception of a slight dizziness in the head, I felt no had
effects from the fall over night.
Pornic, who was standing a few yards away, was naturally a good deal
exhausted, but had not hurt himself in the least. His saddle, a favorite polo
one, was much knocked about, and had been twisted under his belly. It took me
some time to put him to rights, and in the meantime I had ample opportunities
of observing the spot into which I had so foolishly dropped.
At the risk of being considered tedious, I must describe it at length:
inasmuch as an accurate mental picture of its peculiarities will be of
material assistance in enabling the reader to understand what follows.
Imagine then, as I have said before, a horseshoe-shaped crater of sand with
steeply graded sand walls about thirty-five feet high. (The slope, I fancy,
must have been about 65 degrees.) This crater enclosed a level piece of ground
about fifty yards long by thirty at its broadest part, with a crude well in
the centre. Round the bottom of the crater, about three feet from the level of
the ground proper, ran a series of eighty-three semi-circular ovoid, square,
and multilateral holes, all about three feet at the mouth.


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