On the Island Read Online Free PDF

said Blinder. “I bet it’s very white, isn’t it?”
    â€œYes,” said Iain, “it’s very white and the snow is very deep and the sun is flashing off it. Only my wellingtons sink in it.” It occurred to him that he was finding it difficult to describe to Blinder what the snow was really like, the billowing mounds of it, the intense sparkle, the newness of it. These were things that you couldn’t easily tell anyone.
    â€œThat would be right,” said Blinder putting his empty cup on the table. “I bet you it’s white. I can feel it.”
    â€œCan you see anything at all?” said Iain in a little burst of words, as if he were asking something that should not be asked, and he therefore felt nervous like the little bird whose heart had beaten so spasmodically in the basket.
    â€œNo,” said Blinder, “nothing at all. I can’t see you at all. But I know your voice.”
    â€œIt must be funny to be blind,” said Iain. “I mean …”
    â€œI can manage all right though,” said Blinder. “I know where you are though I can’t see you. It’s not all that funny. I can’t explain it.”
    â€œI bet you could find your way about the village better than me in the dark though,” said Iain.
    â€œThat’s right,” said Blinder, “I could.”
    â€œI might fall into a well if it was dark,” said Iain and he shuddered as he imagined himself falling and falling and shouting out of the dark water while the silence grew deeper and deeper around him.
    â€œYou could do that,” said Blinder. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
    â€œYes.” said Iain, “I wouldn’t mind.”
    And they went out into the white glare again, and they walked through the snow, sinking into it, while now and again Iain heard the same or a different cock crow, and the houses were white with snow and the roofs were covered with it. Even the sky seemed bluer and more dazzling than usual.
    â€œTake my hand,” said Blinder, “if you like. I know what I’m doing. I know where the ditch is.”
    â€œAll right,” said Iain and he took Blinder’s hand, feeling quite secure as he walked beside him through the deep waves of snow.
    â€œOver there,” said Blinder, “is the quarry. I bet you can’t see it, can you?”
    â€œNo,” said Iain, “I can’t see it at all. It’s just a big mound of snow.”
    â€œI thought that,” said Blinder in a satisfied voice. “I thought you wouldn’t be able to see it.”
    Hand in hand they trudged on through the snow for what seemed to Iain to be ages, and then Blinder said, “The well is to your left. It’s a few yards over there. But I’m sure it will be frozen over.”
    â€œIs that where it is?” said Iain.
    â€œYes,” said Blinder, “it’s over to your left. You keep over to this side with me.”
    â€œRight then,” said Iain in his adult voice.
    â€œWe won’t go near it,” said Blinder, “in case anything happens.” His blind empty eyes, unaffected by the sun, stared straight ahead of him.
    After a while they were a good bit out of the village and Blinder stopped and said to Iain, “Now tell me what you can see.”
    â€œI can see the houses,” said Iain, “and they are all covered with snow. Their roofs are covered with snow and even the doors have snow on them. I can see smoke rising from the chimneys. I can see birds on the telegraph wires. I can see the fences covered with snow. And that’s all I can see.”
    â€œIs that all?” said Blinder with the same note of satisfaction in his voice. “Is that all you can see?”
    â€œYes,” said Iain.
    â€œWell then,” said Blinder, “I think we should go back,” and he started to hum under his breath as if he was happy. All the way back to his house he