Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 729, December 15, 1877 — John Shaqi
Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 729, December 15, 1877Various
General
Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 729, December 15, 1877
Various
Periodicals
In close proximity to these splendid ruins, sometimes under their
very walls, our author found rude circles of stone, such as still
exist at Stonehenge and in other parts of Great Britain, and in
Brittany. Bidding adieu to Cuzco and its suggestive relics, Mr Squier
in his journey to the coast passed over a stupendously high swinging
bridge formed of cables of braided withes. This dreadful rope-edifice
swung freely in space between two gigantic cliffs, which guarded
like twin sentinels the rush of the deep and rapid Apurimac, one of
the head-waters of the Amazon. It was something worse than the most
breakneck defile among the Cordilleras. 'Never,' says our author,
'will I forget this experience. I can see still the frail structure
swaying at dizzy height over a dark abyss filled with the deep hoarse
roar of the river. My eyes grew dim, my heart faint, my feet unsteady
as I struggled across, not daring to cast a look on either hand.' It
was no wonder that the nerves of one of the party, an artist, were
so shaken that he declared that rather than set a foot upon it, he
would swim across the Apurimac. This he did, and found the water so
delightfully cool and pleasant, that he resolved to prolong his bath,
and placed the bundle containing his clothes and shoes on a convenient
cliff, whence a perverse gust of wind blew them into the water. Long
he pursued them, with no result except the conviction that he had lost
them irrecoverably and his way as well. In this condition, foodless,
garmentless, he wandered about for three days in pathless thickets.
His feet were cut and bleeding; and his body, scratched and torn, was
scorched all day by a blistering sun, and so chilled at night by the
cold breezes that he was glad to bury himself in the warm sand. On the
fourth day he staggered, faint with fatigue and hunger, to the door
of an Indian hut, and the inhabitants mistaking him in his ghastly
squalor for the incarnate genius of fever, which they dread above all
things, half killed with stones what little life was left in him before
they would listen to his story.
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