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
It would not do, however, to lose my paddle, for as the water was too
deep for poling, I was rather helpless without it; but it could not be
far away, and must certainly come along presently on the current. So I
let go two or three fathoms of the drag line, and as the canoe slowed
down, I presently saw the paddle come round a bend in the river,
floating nearly in mid-stream, and slowly overtaking me. When I had
recovered it I hauled up the sinker, and paddled ahead in a leisurely
fashion. There was no need to exert myself, for the current was
already taking me along as fast as was safe in so tortuous a river;
but I had to use either the paddle or drag to keep the canoe under
control, and I grudged the trifling delay that the latter caused. The
river hereabouts seemed pretty free from obstructions, although the
overfalls or eddies upon the surface told of jagged rocks at the
bottom; indeed, it is probable that in the dry season, this part of
the river was an almost continuous series of rapids. But now a good
depth of water covered the rocks, and snags, and the whirlpools
plainly pointed out those that approached the surface, so, by keeping
a bright look-out, I was able to keep on my course.
And now that there was a lull in the excitements of the voyage, I had
time to examine the bark that was carrying me so bravely on my way. A
very staunch and sturdy little craft she was, and fully up to my
expectations, and I was gratified to notice how accurately my
calculations had worked out. She showed a good seven inches of
free-board amidships, and a foot at either end; was quite dry inside,
and so stiff and steady by reason of her breadth and the weight of
ballast, that I could stand up without in the least affecting her
stability. She was certainly very heavy to paddle, but as the whole
voyage was down stream this mattered little, and I had no doubt that
she would sail moderately well.
For several hours I pursued a very uneventful journey, steering with
the paddle rather than propelling the canoe. Once I encountered a
fallen tree which stretched almost across the river and was rather
difficult to pass without damaging my vessel; I also met with two or
three small rapids, but as I was now unembarrassed I had no difficulty
in steering clear of the rocks.
As I went on, the river widened out very perceptibly, the tributaries
being very numerous, and many of them of large size, so that by the
afternoon I found myself upon a really fine and noble-looking stream;
and as I looked upon its yellow, unruffled waters, rolling on
majestically between the lofty, forest-clad banks, it seemed strange
that it should be so desolate and silent. Yet for hours I had passed
no village, nor seen any sign of human occupation, and only the
familiar forest sounds--voices of bird or beast--disturbed the
death-like stillness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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