west, sails of fisher-boats,
people in a curious costume mowing in a meadow a great way off, and
tethered all over the plain solitary sheep and cows, whose nervousness
at your approach is the nervousness begotten of a retired life. There
are no trees; and if we had not seen Thiessow all the time we should
have lost our way, for there is no road. As it is, you go on till you
are stopped by the land coming to an end, and there you are at Thiessow.
I believe in the summer you can get there by steamer from Goehren or
Baabe; but if it is windy and the waves are too big for the boats that
land you to put off, the steamer does not stop; so that the only way is
over the plain or along the shore. I walked nearly all the time, the
jolting was so intolerable. It was heavy work for the horses, and
straining work for the carriage. Gertrud sat gripping the bandbox, for
with every lurch it tried to roll out. August looked unhappy. His
experiences at Goehren had been worse than ours, and Thiessow was right
down at the end of all things, and had the drawback, obvious even to
August, that whatever it was like we would have to endure it, for
swelter back again over the broiling plain only to stay a second night
at Goehren was as much out of the question for the horses as for
ourselves. As for me, I was absolutely happy. The wide plain, the wide
sea, the wide sky were so gloriously full of light and life. The very
turf beneath my feet had an eager spring in it; the very daisies
covering it looked sprightlier than anywhere else; and up among the
great piled clouds the blessed little larks were fairly drunk with
delight. I walked some way ahead of the carriage so as to feel alone. I
could have walked for ever in that radiance and freshness. The
black-faced sheep ran wildly round and round as I passed, tugging at
their chains in frantic agitation. Even the cows seemed uneasy if I came
too close; and in the far-off meadow the mowers stopped mowing to watch
us dwindle into dots. In this part of Ruegen the natives wear a
peculiarly hideous dress, or rather the men do--the women's costume is
not so ugly--and looking through my glasses to my astonishment I saw
that the male mowers had on long baggy white things that were like
nothing so much as a woman's white petticoat on either leg. But the
mowers and their trousers were soon left far behind. The sun had climbed
very high, was pouring down almost straight on to our heads, and still
Thiessow seem