Gone with the Wind / Унесённые ветром. Уровень 3

She gnawed furiously, tore with both hands and the petticoat lay in strips in her hands. She knotted the ends with fingers that bled from blisters and shook from fatigue.

В«Slip this over her hornsВ», she directed. But Prissy balked.

«I’m scared of cows, Miss Scarlett. I’m no yard nigger. I’m a house nigger».

«You’re a fool nigger», said Scarlett slowly, too tired for anger.

Scarlett climbed down from the seat. Prissy was not the only one who was В«scaredВ» of cows. Scarlett had always feared them, even the mildest cow seemed sinister to her.

Fortunately the cow was gentle. She looped one end of the torn petticoat about its horns. She tied the other end to the back of the wagon.

Melanie opened her eyes and, seeing Scarlett, whispered:

«Dear… are we home?»

Home! Hot tears came to Scarlett’s eyes at the word. Home. Melanie did not know there was no home and that they were alone in a mad and desolate world.

«Not yet», she said gently, «but we will be, soon. I’ve just found a cow and soon we’ll have some milk for you and the baby».

В«Poor babyВ», whispered Melanie.

The horse started slowly. The wagon was creaking and the cow was lowing mournfully at every step. At last, they reached the hill. Tara lay behind it! But the decrepit animal will never go up the hill with the heavy load.

She dismounted and took the animal by the bridle.

В«Get out, PrissyВ», she commanded, В«and take Wade. Lay the baby by Miss MelanieВ».

Wade began to sob and whimper: «Dark… dark… Wade frightened!»

«Miss Scarlett, I can’t walk.

And I’m not heavy».

В«Get out! Get out before I pull you out! Quick, now!В»

Prissy moaned. But she laid the baby beside Melanie, scrambled to the ground and lifted Wade out. The little boy sobbed.

«Hush. I can’t stand it», said Scarlett. «Be a little man, Wade, and stop crying».

Why had God invented children, she thought savagely. Useless, crying nuisances they were, always demanding care, always in the way.

In her exhaustion, there was no room for compassion for the frightened child.

She turned the horse’s head into the driveway. Straining her eyes she saw ahead… or did she see? Home! Home! The dear white walls, the windows with the curtains, the wide verandas.

She pulled the horse forward faster. The white walls showed there through the darkness. Home! She dropped the bridle and ran. Then she saw the blackness of the front veranda.