"Louis L'amour - sackett02 - To The Far Blue Mountains" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Amour Louis)

him, Peter knew nothing of Adapa.
"We talked of many things, Peter and I, and it is he who will handle all sales
of furs and timber for me when I am gone away. When my ships return to England,
he will dispose of their goods and order things for me.
"Also, he has books I must have, and charts of land where we go."
"They are new lands. How can there be charts?"
"A good question, yet those lands may only be new to us because our knowledge is
limited. They may have been old lands to those before our time. Although much
history remains, much more has been lost. Men have always gone out upon the sea,
Tom, and some few of them have made records. And if we do not leave records, who
will know where we went or what we did? I shall try to write of these things,
Tom."
"I cannot write."
"Nor could others who went abroad upon the world. So much was done, so little
recorded. And much was recorded and then lost. Peter has talked to me of men and
nations, of deaths and battles of which I never heard.
"Avicenna? Who is he? Somewhere I heard the name, but Peter knew. A great man, a
great writer, a man of knowledge in many areas, a very great man, indeed. If
such can live and we not know of him, how many others might there be?
"The strange man who came to Peter and then never came again ... who was he?
Where had he found the manuscripts and charts he sold? Who was the one he called
the Wise Adapa? Even Peter had never heard of him, nor scholars at Cambridge
whom he knew.
"I have myself seen the chart of Andrea Bianco that shows well the coasts of
Brazil, and the chart was drawn in 1448, and it is said that Magellan found the
straits named for him because he, too, had a chart ... drawn by whom?"
"This all may be as you suggest," said Tom dryly, "but I worry less about charts
of a distant land than a road to London that will keep us free of the Queen's
men."
"Worst of all," I said, "I do not know my enemies. Someone stands behind them
with a well-filled wallet, or they would not have come so far upon a chance."
We slept in turns, and when I last awakened our scow had brought us in the late
afternoon to a point of trees where there was an opening in the reeds lining the
shore.
"We will leave the boat here." I stood and stretched, liking the feel of my
muscles underneath my shirt. I could feel the ripple of them and sense their
power, and before we were once more aboard ship I would have need of them ...
this much I guessed. We glimpsed the steeple of a church, and a ruined tower.
Thorney should be near.
"The point," I said to Tom. "We will land there." Leading my horse ashore, we
went along the lane toward the road that led to the village. No one was in
sight. Already shadows were long and dusk was upon us.
The street was almost empty, and only a few heads turned to look as we passed
along the cobblestoned street. Outside of the village I mounted, and with Black
Tom trotting beside, we made good time for a mile, then changed places.
Willows lined the track we followed to Whittlesey. The market square was empty,
shadows everywhere. A few lights showed.
"I've a friend here," Tom said. "We'll knock him up and have a place to sleep
the night and a quick start come morning."
Glancing up at the tower of St. Mary's, I knew I'd miss the bells, for we could