Anton pursed up his lips and shook his head. “I hope,” he said, “I hope. You got good remembrance?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then I tell you all the way.”
“Right. I’ll remember.”
“It is difficult,” Anton said. “You follow this track here for three kilometres, through the scrub. Then you come to a place very big as a saucer; big, big. Then north-west across it to a hole, snap, cut off, like so, in the hills, a long way, fifteen kilometres. Out there you will see peones who ride. One will show you. You must not go so, no; but so, because, so, there is no ground; all is gone. But this not for twenty kilometres. Till then, you look for the place big as a pan, very big; and the hill that has like so; high, yet so, snap, see; no, more like so.”
This was not clear as a course should be, but his gestures made it clearer. Anton knew the dangers of losing a trail; he turned to his sister for an English rendering of what he wished to explain. Unfortunately she had not seen the place which he strove to describe, nor was her English much better than his, but she added a few words.
“After this track,” she said, “there is a . . . very big.”
“A lake?” Hi suggested.
“A what?”
“A water?”