In the level plain the desolation was yet more marked; there was not a grass-blade or plant; the surface was hard, black, and burned, resembling iron, and indeed in places it resounded to his feet, though he supposed that was the echo from hollow passages beneath.
Several times he shook himself, straightened himself up, and endeavoured to throw off the sense of drowsy weight which increased upon him.

He could not do so; he walked with bent back, and crept, as it were, over the iron land which radiated heat.

A shimmer like that of water appeared in front; he quickened his pace, but could not get to it, and realized presently that it was a mirage which receded as he advanced.

There was no pleasant summer twilight; the sunset was succeeded by an indefinite gloom, and while this shadow hung overhead the yellow vapour around was faintly radiant.

Felix suddenly stopped, having stepped, as he thought, on a skeleton.
Another glance, however, showed that it was merely the impression of one, the actual bones had long since disappeared.