Adventures in the Philippine IslandsLa Gironière, Paul P. de
History
Adventures in the Philippine Islands
La Gironière, Paul P. de
Philippines
several weeks in a desert spot without resources, and where the first
night passed under such a bad roof was no recommendation, There was no
time to be lost. From a large heap of palm leaves, where we had placed
and covered up our haversacks in order to preserve them from the wet,
we drew them out safe; our precautions had fortunately been successful,
they were quite dry. We made a large fire, thanks to the elemi gum,
which burns with such ease. Our feelings were delightful when the
heat entered our frames, dried our dripping garments, re-animated our
courage, and gave us some strength. But, to enjoy that satisfaction
fully, one should have acquired it at the same cost as I had. I very
much doubt that any European would like to participate in the scenes
of that night simply for the enjoyments of the following day.
Our scanty cookery was soon ready, and expeditiously dispatched,
and we moved off in quick time.
My Indians were uneasy, as they feared they would not be able to
pass through the torrent which was heard at a distance, consequently
they marched quicker than I did. On reaching the bank I found them
in a consternation. "Oh, master!" said my faithful Alila, "it is not
possible to pass; so we must spend some days here." I cast my eyes
on the torrent, which was rolling between steep rocks, in a yellow,
muddy stream: it had all the appearance of a cascade, and was carrying
down the trunks of trees and branches broken off during the storm. My
Indians had already come to a decision, and were arranging a spot for
a fit bivouac; but I did not wish to give up all hopes of success so
speedily, and set about examining with care the means of overcoming
the difficulty.
The torrent was not more than a hundred yards in breadth, and a
good swimmer could with ease get over in a few minutes. But it was
necessary, on the opposite side, to arrive at a spot which was not too
steep, and where one could find safe footing, and out of the torrent;
otherwise the risk would be run of being drawn down, no one could
tell whither.
From the bank on which we were it was easy to jump into the water,
but on the other side, for a hundred yards down the stream, there was
but one spot where the rocks were interrupted. A small stream joined
there the one we wished to cross. After I had carefully calculated by
sight the length of the passage, I considered myself strong enough to
attempt it. I was a better swimmer than my Indians; and I was certain
if I was once on the other side, that they would follow. I told them
that I was going to cross over the torrent.
But one reflection caused me to hesitate. How could I preserve our
haversacks, and save our precious provision of powder? How keep
our guns from injury? It would not be possible to think of carrying
those articles on my back through a torrent so rapid, and in which,
beyond doubt, I should be under water more than once before I gained
the other side.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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