The whole wide desert culminates in illusion and mystery of distant outlines. Everything floats in it, as it sweeps over from the opalescent mountains. A cross in the midst of the shelly sand, “protruding through thin layers of mirage,” marks the spot where a greatly feared bandit was killed. Skulls are heaped beneath it, with matches and half-burned candles. Water being denied, the desert is soaked with sun. It is the Land of Heat. No plant grows in the scorching soil, no animal can endure it. No bird, no insect flies through the burning atmosphere. Each object shimmers until it seems but the reflection of itself. Fire descends from the burnished sky and vibrates in the air and scalds the sand. Yet concentrating a tropical sun, this hot solitude lies between the cold ocean and the mountains, a region of ice.

Jangwa zima linaishia kwa udanganyifu na fumbo la muhtasari wa mbali. Kila kitu kinaelea ndani yake, wakati kinafagia kutoka kwenye milima ya opalescent. Msalaba katikati ya mchanga wenye makombora, "unaojitokeza kupitia tabaka nyembamba za sarafi," unaashiria mahali ambapo jambazi aliyeogopwa sana aliuawa. Mafuvu ya kichwa yanarundikwa chini yake, na kiberiti na mishumaa iliyochomwa nusu. Maji yakinyimwa, jangwa linalowa na jua. Ni Nchi ya Joto. Hakuna mmea unaokua katika udongo unaowaka, hakuna mnyama anayeweza kustahimili. Hakuna ndege, hakuna wadudu anayeruka kupitia anga inayowaka. Kila kitu shimmers mpaka inaonekana lakini reflection yake yenyewe. Moto unashuka kutoka angani iliyowaka na kutikisika angani na kuunguza mchanga. Lakini ukizingatia jua la kitropiki, upweke huu wa joto upo kati ya bahari baridi na milima, eneo la barafu.