All along the coast ran a row of flying-sand drifts, with
lyme-grass on their tops. They were not very high, but they prevented
the boy from seeing any of the island.
Herr Ermenrich stood on a sand-hill, drew up one leg and bent his head
backward, so he could stick his bill under the wing. "You can roam
around on the shore for a while," he said to Thumbietot, "while I rest
myself. But don't go so far away but what you can find your way back to
me again!"
To start with, the boy intended to climb a sand-hill and see how the
land behind it looked. But when he had walked a couple of paces, he
stubbed the toe of his wooden shoe against something hard. He stooped
down, and saw that a small copper coin lay on the sand, and was so worn
with verdigris that it was almost transparent. It was so poor that he
didn't even bother to pick it up, but only kicked it out of the way.
But when he straightened himself up once more he was perfectly
astounded, for two paces away from him stood a high, dark wall with a
big, turreted gate.
The moment before, when the boy bent down, the sea lay there--shimmering
and smooth, while now it was hidden by a long wall with towers and
battlements. Directly in front of him, where before there had been only
a few sea-weed banks, the big gate of the wall opened.
The boy probably understood that it was a spectre-play of some sort; but
this was nothing to be afraid of, thought he.
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