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
The carriers sulkily caught up their burdens and started, but it
happened that the wounded man--who was very little hurt, after
all--was the one to whom my trunk had been allotted, and, as he was
now not fit to carry it, Annan bluntly informed me that, if I wanted
it, I must carry it myself; and, angry as I was, I could not help
perceiving that it would chime in very well with my plans to have the
trunk in my own custody, so without more ado I clapped the head pad on
top of my hat, and catching up the trunk, balanced it on my head as
well as I could and followed. The ground continued to descend gently,
and, as the path was a little more open at this part, we got on at a
good pace, the wounded man limping along in fine style, and evidently
rejoicing at having shifted his burden on to me. We presently entered
a small village which appeared to be quite deserted, and our carriers
halted and were just about to open an attack upon a plantation of
plantains and papaw trees at its farther end, when we observed one or
two men peering at us round the corners of the houses; on which they
picked up their loads and hurried out of the village as if they had
seen the devil.
The road continuing fairly distinct, I dropped behind a little to
escape from the incessant chatter that Annan and the carriers kept up,
in spite of the danger by which we were surrounded, and I frequently
lost sight of our little caravan for some minutes at a time,
overtaking them again when a fallen tree or other obstruction brought
them to a temporary halt. I had separated in this manner and was
walking along lost in thought, when a turn of the path brought me in
view of our party all standing stock still and sniffing the air like
dogs. At the same moment I became aware of a faint, stale and
indescribably disagreeable odour which seemed to come from the forest
ahead of us. As we proceeded it grew rapidly more powerful and was
soon insupportably offensive, evidently proceeding from some
putrifying animal matter. I surmised that some large animal had died
in the bush and that the smell proceeded from its decaying remains,
but my companions evidently had an inkling of the truth, for they
stepped warily and fearfully along the track. Suddenly the path opened
out into a large village clearing, and, as we emerged from the forest,
a cloud of vultures arose and settled in the trees, from which they
looked down with hoarse cries upon the horrid scene of desolation
below.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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