On the very
highest of the peaks there were streaks of snow, and at about six
o'clock in the afternoon I grounded my boat upon that gravelly shore and
pulled it up upon the shingle, though it was evident either that the
tide was high or that there was no tide in these silent places.
"I offered up a prayer to the genius of the land, and tied the painter
of the boat to two great stones, so that no wave reaching it might move
it, and then I went on inland. When I had gone a little way I saw a
signpost on which was written, 'To the End of the World One Mile' and
there was a rough track along which it pointed. I went along this track.
Everything was completely silent. There were no birds, there was no wind,
there was nothing in the sky. But one thing I did notice, which was that
the sun was much larger than it used to be, and that as I went along this
last mile or so it seemed to get larger still--but that may have been my
imagination, for I must tell you my imagination is pretty strong.
"Well then, gentlemen, when I had gone a mile or so I saw another
signpost, on which there was a large board marked 'Danger,' and a
hundred yards beyond the track went between two great dark rocks--and
there I was! The road had stopped short; it was broken off, jagged, just
like a torn bit of paper ... and there was the End of the World."
"How do you mean?" said one of the younger men in an awed tone.
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