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
In all the village there was not a single house left standing. Some
were reduced to mere shapeless heaps of blackened ruins, while in
others the charred skeleton of a roof yet rested on the scorched and
cracked clay walls. The compound fences were reduced to lines of
ashes; cooking pots stood over extinct fires; and half-burnt stools
and wooden utensils lay scattered about among the ruins. And
everywhere--in the streets, in the compounds, and by the ruined
houses--the ground was literally strewn with corpses. In every
attitude of death, in every stage of decay and dismemberment; bloated
by the heat, shrivelled by the sun, hacked at by vultures, torn limb
from limb by wild beasts: the loathsome harvest of war lay poisoning
the air with the stale and horrid effluvium. Glossy-coated carrion
beetles crept busily over them, swarms of flies hummed in the air
above them, and, in one place, a broad shining stream of driver ants
flowed through the village like a river of jet, leaving in its track
clean-picked skeletons already bleached to the whiteness of chalk.
As we stood surveying these dreadful relics, the vultures began to
drop down by twos and threes, watching us warily as they snapped up
their grisly morsels; and when we moved up the village and came round
a pile of ruins, we disturbed at their ghastly meal a troop of
hyænas, which shuffled away and stood at a little distance with their
shoulders hunched up, grinning at us and snarling with titters of
idiotic laughter.
The village had been very completely looted by the enemy, but we
found, nevertheless, in the remains of the plantation, a few bunches
of plantains, and one or two half-rotten papaws, and, having secured
these, we stole stealthily and guiltily out of the village and hurried
away along the road, not a little affected by the awful spectacle we
had witnessed.
It was now past midday, and I began to consider very earnestly how and
where I was to pass the night, for I had definitely made up my mind
that I would not spend it in the society of Annan and his gang of
ruffians. It was now clear that they were of one mind in their desire
to be rid of me, and it was equally evident that Annan had already
appointed himself my sole executor and legatee. This being the case,
it would be obvious madness for me to trust myself asleep in their
company, and I had now to settle on the manner in which I should
escape from them and yet find my way to my destination.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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