The golden pool : $b A story of a forgotten mineFreeman, R. Austin (Richard Austin)
General
The golden pool : $b A story of a forgotten mine
Freeman, R. Austin (Richard Austin)
British -- Africa -- Fiction; Mines and mineral resources -- Fiction
There were three outside keels, one central and two lateral or “bilge
keels,” corresponding to the inside ones, to which they would be fixed
by long tree-nails passing through both keels and timbers. They were
highly important, as they would protect the skin of the canoe if she
ran aground or had to be pulled over an obstruction, and were made
accordingly pretty stout and deep. It took me but a short time to fit
them on, for the holes were already made in the wood, and it remained
only to carefully perforate the skin, lay on the keels, and drive the
tree-nails home. The fixing of the rudder was even a simpler matter,
for there was nothing to do but to pass the long wooden bolt or pintle
through four hardwood eyes--two on the stern-post, and two on the
rudder--and fix it there; and when I had done this I stepped back and
triumphantly surveyed my handiwork.
The canoe was finished, and ready to commence its voyage. My work was
done; the time of waiting was past, and I could, if I pleased, launch
my craft, and set out upon my journey this very day. And, indeed, my
impatience rather urged me to adopt this course; but, on sober
reflection, I resolved to defer the start until daybreak on the
morrow. My first day’s journey must needs be a long one, that I might
at once get clear of the dangerous neighbourhood of the mine and the
fetish priests; and to make possible a long day’s paddling, a good
night’s rest was essential. So I commenced in a leisurely way to make
my preparations and survey my resources.
On overhauling the contents of the fire-hut, I noted with satisfaction
that I had enough provisions to last me a week or ten days, for not
only was the antelope practically intact, but I had made small
additions to my store from the surplus of my meals. The smoked meat
was nearly black, and most unsavoury in appearance, but it was quite
sweet, and would now keep as long as I should want it.
Having inspected the provisions, there next arose the question of
unearthing the treasure. It ought to be dug up by daylight, for
otherwise some portion of it might be overlooked and left behind; but
unfortunately, the place in which it was buried was visible from the
opposite bank, and my confidence in the solitude of the place had been
quite destroyed. Yet there was no help for it; the only thing to be
done was to get it over as quickly as possible, and keep a bright
look-out.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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