I NEED not detail all the vicissitudes through which I passed before I
reached that day of all days, my twenty-fifth birthday. I may simply
say, that, owing to the fault above mentioned, I was thrown upon the
world with such force that I hit it good and hard, after my father’s
death, and that the world and I seemed to find nothing in which we were
in perfect harmony. I speak of the talking world; for with Nature I
never had the slightest trouble—she understood me and I understood her.
But nobody had any faith in my word, notwithstanding I never promised to
do a thing which was not done. That very trait of character saved me
from starvation on several occasions, one of which I may mention.
I was out in the country, among the mountains, and an eagle was carrying
away a little child. I was near at hand as the bird got its prey, and I
was then about ten years of age. I had been practicing with a sling and
was traveling alone the mountain road from house to house, having had
nothing to eat for several days. I had just gone into the barnyard of
this particular house, when the bird of prey swept down and I heard the
cry of the child and its mother.
I ran to where she stood, wringing her hands and screaming.
“Do you want the child?” I asked.
She turned her tear-stained face upon me with a look of astonishment,
undoubtedly produced by my question.
“Yes, yes!” she cried. “But he is lost!”
“No,” said I with the greatest calmness, “I will get him for you.”
The bird was now far up in the air. I slipped a pebble into my sling,
whirled it about my head, and shot the missile upward.
It caught the eagle just behind the ear and stunned it so that it
stiffened its wings and began to soar gently downward. I had intended
merely to stun it, and now put another pebble in the sling, for use when
I saw the bird was beginning to recover. I, of course, knew it would
never do to kill the bird in the air, for then the force of the fall
from that height would most certainly injure the child severely if it
did not kill it outright.
As the eagle showed signs of returning to consciousness, I sent forth
the other pebble upon its errand of mercy and hit him in exactly the
same place, but upon the other side of his head. This changed his
direction just sufficiently to bring him gradually back, until, at last,
he settled softly down, leaving the child in the very spot from whence
he had taken it. I rushed up and hit him a smart rap on the top of the
head and victory was mine.
It was the telling of this story at other places where I applied for
assistance that caused them to set the dogs upon me, to threaten to
shoot me, or to burn me at the stake.
I mention this incident in my variegated career to show that the brain
of the ordinary mortal is powerless to comprehend the abilities of some
people.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
III
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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