refreshment, and no berries; nor could Martin find a bush to give
him a little shade and protection from the burning noonday sun. He
saw one large dark object in the distance, and mistaking it for a
bush covered with thick foliage he ran towards it; but suddenly it
started up, when he was near, and waving its great grey and white
wings like sails, fled across the plain. It was an ostrich!

Now this hot, shadeless plain seemed to be the very home and
dwelling-place of the False Water. It sparkled and danced all round
him so close that there only appeared to be a small space of dry
ground for him to walk on; only he was always exactly in the centre
of the dry spot; for as he advanced, the glittering whiteness, that
looked so like shiny water, flew mockingly before his steps. But he
hoped to get to it at last, as every time he flagged in the chase
the mysterious figure of the day before appeared again to lure him
still further on. At length, unable to move another step, Martin sat
right down on the bare ground: it was like sitting on the floor of a
heated oven, but there was no help for it, he was so tired. The air
was so thick and heavy that he could hardly breathe, even with his
mouth wide open like a little gasping bird; and the sky looked like
metal, heated to a white heat, and so low down as to make him fancy
that if he were to throw up his hands he would touch it and burn his
fingers.

And the Mirage--oh, how it glistened and quivered here where he had
sat down, half blinding him with its brightness! Now that he could
no longer run after it, nor even walk, it came to him, breaking
round and over him in a thousand fantastic shapes, filling the air
with a million white flakes that whirled about as if driven by a
furious wind, although not a breath was stirring. They looked like