The life of Rev. Henry Martyn : $b Written for the American Sunday School Union, with some account of Abdool Messeeh, a Hindoo convertHall, John
History
The life of Rev. Henry Martyn : $b Written for the American Sunday School Union, with some account of Abdool Messeeh, a Hindoo convert
Hall, John
Abdool Messeeh, 1771 or 1772-1827; Martyn, Henry, 1781-1812
“_July 2d._—At two in the morning we set out. I hardly know when I
have been so disordered. I had little or no recollection of things,
and what I did remember, at times, of happy scenes in India or
England, served only to embitter my present situation. Soon after
removing into the air, I was seized with a violent ague, and in this
state I went on till sun-rise. At fourteen miles, we found a fine
caravansera, apparently very little used, as the grass was growing in
the court. There was nothing all round but the barren rocks, which
generally roughen the country before the mountain rears its height.
Such an edifice, in such a situation, was cheering. Soon after, we
came to a river, over which was a high bridge; I sat down in the
shade under it, with two camel-drivers. The caravan, as it happened,
forded the river, and passed on, without my perceiving it. Mr. C——,
seeing no signs of me, returned, and after looking about for some
time, espied my horse grazing; he concluded immediately that the
horse had flung me from the bridge into the river, and was almost
ready to give me up for lost. My speedy appearance from under the
bridge relieved his terror and anxiety. The pass was a mere nothing
to those at Bushire; in fact it was no part of the mountain we
climbed, but only a few hills. In a natural opening in the mountains,
on the other side, was a river, with most of its bed dry; and over
it a bridge of many arches, which led us to an unwalled village,
surrounded by corn-fields, which we reached at ten o’clock. Half the
people still continue ill; for myself, I am, through God’s infinite
mercy, recovering.”
“_July 3d._—Started at three, full three hours after we ought, and,
as was to be expected, we all got ill again, from being exposed to
the sun six hours; for we did not get to our ground, Turcoman, till
eleven o’clock. It was a poor village among the hills, over which our
whole way lay, from Mianu. Ascending one, and descending another, was
the whole of the variety, so that I do not know when we have had a
more tiresome day.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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