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
We travelled on, with rare and brief halts for rest at wayside
hamlets, until near sunset, when we reached a small, primitive village
called Obedumássi, at which we brought up for the night, and where
our experiences of the previous evening were repeated. The headman, at
whose house we lodged, kept a civet in a kind of wooden hutch for the
purpose of extracting the perfume, and I had an opportunity of
witnessing the operation. The animal was first poked with a stick to
make it fly round its narrow cage until in the course of its gyrations
it allowed its tail to project between the bars. This was immediately
grabbed by the operator and pulled so that the unfortunate beast was
jammed helplessly against the bars, when the perfume was scooped out
of the scent-gland by means of a wooden implement like a marrow-spoon.
This curious unctuous substance had a disgusting odour somewhat like
that of a recently-extinguished tallow candle, mingled with the scent
of musk, but Annan assured me that “the Hausa men find it sweet too
much,” so I purchased a small quantity with a view to future
contingencies.
The next day was one of almost continuous trudging along a path that
was far from good to walk upon. This everlasting marching would have
been as monotonous as it was fatiguing but for the novelty of the
surroundings, which were almost as strange to me as if I had but just
come from England. Our route on this day lay through an extensive
swamp, some parts of which were overgrown with bamboos, and here the
aspect of nature was most singular and impressive. The bamboo could be
seen as we approached it, an immense cloudy mass of moving green with
mysterious cavern-like openings which led into a dim interior like
that of some colossal crypt. The canes rose out of the ground in huge
bundles like great clustered columns, and interlaced overhead in an
impenetrable vault, so that the gloomy interior was broken up into a
maze of aisles and transepts, some leading away into absolute black
darkness, others showing a distant spot of bright light--the opening
on the further side of the thicket.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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