Argentina from a British Point of View, and Notes on Argentine Life
History
Argentina from a British Point of View, and Notes on Argentine Life
Argentina -- Description and travel; Argentina -- Economic conditions; Argentina -- Social life and customs
It poured all night, and when at daybreak I suggested to my men that it
was time to start, they positively refused to move until the rain
ceased. I brought all my persuasive powers to bear, but it was of no
avail, and as I had decided to go on alone, all I got out of them was a
promise they would follow me at 10 o'clock. It was very disappointing,
but I was determined to get forward at all cost. I therefore started on
my lonely journey at eight o'clock, with the rain, and at times sleet,
coming down in bucketfuls; I could hardly see in front of me at times,
and it was destined to be a trip of which I shall always retain very
vivid recollections. On this occasion, owing to the excessive rains, all
the little mountain streams, which under normal circumstances are of no
inconvenience to travellers, had been converted into veritable roaring
torrents, causing me on more than one occasion to think twice before
attempting a crossing. To condense matters as much as possible, let me
remark that it rained all day; travelling was not only difficult but
positively dangerous, and I, being so ill, could hardly keep my seat on
my mule. All this made travelling so slow that I was still a long way
from "El Injenio," my objective point for the night, when darkness
overtook me. I had the narrow, dangerous paths to go along which I have
already described, and I therefore did not trust to getting over them on
muleback, but took the safer and, in my opinion, more sensible plan of
leading my animal. This was tedious work, but it was to become worse
very soon. I arrived at one of those swollen mountain streams, the
appearance of which in the darkness fairly frightened me. My mule would
not look at it, and for a while I did not know exactly what to do. I
could judge that it was four or five feet deep, and rushing past at a
great rate. Neither mule nor I could ever have hoped to keep our feet if
we had attempted crossing, as it was about thirty feet wide. I left my
mule and commenced to reconnoitre along the side, when I came to what
had been a bridge, but which was partly washed away, leaving a gap of
about four feet in the middle, as far as I could judge in the uncertain
light, and over which it was impossible for a mule to go. Leaving my
mule, I made a good jump, and, fortunately, got over all right, but,
after all, I did not know in the least where I was, and, before
attempting to return to my animal, I started to go forward in the hope
of at least striking some sheltered spot where I might pass the night.
Meantime, however, I heard a crash, and, as it turned out, away had gone
the remainder of the bridge, leaving me on one side, and now completely
isolated from my mule and saddle-bags. There was no use fretting, so I
continued moving on--it was now dark--feeling my way, and keeping very
carefully away from the river. I had not proceeded very far before my
progress was all too suddenly arrested. I did not until the next morning
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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