The Danube from the Black Forest to the Black Sea — John Shaqi
The Danube from the Black Forest to the Black SeaMillet, Francis Davis
Philosophy
The Danube from the Black Forest to the Black Sea
Millet, Francis Davis
Canoes and canoeing; Danube River; Danube River Valley -- Description and travel; Europe -- Description and travel
The rain still continued, and after a brief pause at Linz we paddled on
in search of a camp. The shores were marshy and uninviting, and as the
gray twilight deepened our prospects were far from encouraging. The
light had almost gone from the sky before the camp finder turned the bow
of his canoe across the stream in the direction of what appeared to be a
backwater with a pleasant grassy bank in the shelter of a wood. With our
eyes fixed on this goal we were paddling hard to stem the current which
threatened to sweep us past the chosen spot, when we suddenly shot from
the turbid flood of the main stream into the crystal-clear water of the
Traun, at the mouth of which we had fortunately selected our
camp-ground. We had become accustomed to the rain by this time, and as
we were snug and dry when once inside our tents, we were more or less
indifferent to the weather in camp. The next morning as we were cosily
cooking our breakfast in the shelter of the great sketching umbrellas, a
line of lumber rafts surged past the camp, scarcely a yard from the
bushes on the bank, the raftsmen giving us a cheerful greeting as they
went along. We were anxious to continue the acquaintance, but made no
haste to follow them, because, in our ignorance of the rapidity of the
current, we fancied we could easily overtake them. When we paddled out
into the stream a few minutes later, not an
[Illustration: PUMP AT PÖCHLARN]
object was in sight on the broad surface of the Danube except a hideous,
puffing tow-boat, which left a trail of black smoke behind it, and
churned the river into a sea of vicious waves. As it turned out, we
never once overtook the rafts while they were drifting down-stream. We
passed them several times after they had tied up to the bank for the
night, and they as often floated along near our camp in the morning
while we were still at our toilets or at breakfast. We learned to know
all the raftsmen by sight, but never succeeded in spending a moment in
their company until we happened to land at the same village, their last
station above Vienna, and within sight of that city.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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