But as soon as the fern blossoms, seize it, and look
not round, no matter what may seem to be going on behind thee."
Petro wanted to ask--and behold he was no longer there. He approached
the three hillocks--where were the flowers? He saw nothing. The wild
steppe-grass darkled around, and stifled everything in its luxuriance.
But the lightning flashed; and before him stood a whole bed of flowers,
all wonderful, all strange: and there were also the simple fronds of
fern. Petro doubted his senses, and stood thoughtfully before them, with
both hands upon his sides.
"What prodigy is this? one can see these weeds ten times in a day: what
marvel is there about them? was not devil's-face laughing at me?"
Behold! the tiny flower-bud crimsons, and moves as though alive. It is a
marvel, in truth. It moves, and grows larger and larger, and flushes
like a burning coal. The tiny star flashes up, something bursts softly,
and the flower opens before his eyes like a flame, lighting the others
about it. "Now is the time," thought Petro, and extended his hand. He
sees hundreds of shaggy hands reach from behind him, also for the
flower; and there is a running about from place to place, in the rear.
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