Dances with Wolves [antikvár]

CHAPTER I one Lieutenant Dunbar wasn't really swallowed. But that was the first word that stuck in his head. Eveiything was immense. The great, cloudless slq^. The rolling ocean of grass. Noth-mg else, no matter where he put his eyes. No road. No trace of mts for the big wagon to follow. Just sheer, empty space. He was adrift. It made his heart jump in a strange and profound way. As he sat on the flat, open seat, letting his body roll along with the prairie. Lieutenant Dunbar's thoughts focused on his jumping heart. He was thrilled. And yet, his blood wasn't racing. His blood was quiet. The confusion of this kept his mind working in a delightful way. Words tumed constantly in his head as he tried to conjure sentences or phrases that would describe what he felt. It was hard to pinpoint. On their third day out the voice in his head spoke the words "This is religious," and that sentence seemed the rightest yet. But Lieutenant Dunbar had never been a religious man, so even though the sentence seemed right, he didn't quite know what to make of it. 1