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286

(1929) [MARC] Author: Martin Andersen Nexø Translator: Jacob Wittmer Hartmann
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286 DAYS IN THE SUN
over the white snowfields. Beneath us lay the city,
dozing in the face of twilight. The mighty Vega, en-
veloped in a white vapor, resembled a long bright
mountain torrent eating its way deeper and deeper into
the encircling wreath of snowy mountains.
We climbed ceaselessly through the twilight, enter-
ing into the cold sparkling sunlight of the mountains.
We got down from the coach and persuaded our fel-
low-passengers to do likewise, but without any appar-
ent effect. The animals continued to creep up the
road, their backs humped into a sharp curve, as if their
vertebre might burst through their work-worn gray
skins. They used the edges of their hoofs like claws
to grip the mountain and the coach staggered drunk-
enly after them. The zagal dashed about flogging the
mules. The mayoral slept on his seat. I woke him
and called his attention to the fact that the brake held
the wheels so tightly that sometimes they did not turn.
“Its broke,” he said with a shrug, “but it’s not so
bad going downhill.”
“Yes, but now we’re going uphill!”
“Oh, you can’t have all things in this world,” he an-
swered with a yawn.
He considered this matter a domestic affair concern-
ing the mules and the post coach. But when I insisted
that we must do something about it he got off and
stopped the vehicle. Down on his back under the
coach in the dust of the road he propped up the heavy
brake spring with his feet while I tied it to the floor of
the carriage.
The hills to the east of Granada have an uncanny
baldness. The only vegetation is a stiff grass and a
few thistle-like sharp plants with yellow blossoms. The

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