The Silver Bough

Cover The Silver Bough
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Genres: Fiction
Pausing to take his breath, he turned towards the sea, which was a living blue, a deep sparkling blue, for the sun was still behind his left shoulder on this June morning. Fresh as Creation’s dawn, he tried to murmur to himself, but with no great success, for if anyone could tie himself in knots he was the man, though why this should happen to him, this labour force, this lunacy, the dark gods alone knew. More grimly he approached them, more smiling.
When he saw her bring her son and herself to
... their feet in respectful attention, he cried “Good morning!”, waded in, and lowered his gear to the ground.
Her grave manner was a help. She had the dignity that made the occasion as natural as it could be. She listened but not anxiously. He began to walk round the cairn, pausing now and then to regard it. “You see, this is a place where in prehistoric times they buried their dead. I want to open it up to get at the graves which are inside.”
She nodded; and, knowing how superstitious local folk were about opening graves, he realised that if he had said he was going to open up the entrance to hell itself, she would have nodded in the same way.
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