Through Five Republics on Horseback, Being an Account of Many Wanderings in South AmericaRay, George Whitfield
Religion
Through Five Republics on Horseback, Being an Account of Many Wanderings in South America
Ray, George Whitfield
Ray, George Whitfield, 1868- -- Travel -- South America; South America -- Description and travel
Concluding that my fleet-footed but unamiable young friend had
undoubtedly some place in view, I continued in the same direction, but
at a more respectable pace. Shortly afterwards I arrived at a very
small hut, built of woven grass and reeds, which I presumed was his
home. Making for the open door, I clapped my hands, but received no
answer. The hut was certainly inhabited--of that I saw abundant
signs--but where were the people? I dare not get down from my horse;
that is an insult no native would forgive; so I slowly walked around
the house, clapping my hands and shouting at the top of my voice. Just
as I was making the circuit for the third time, I descried another and
a larger house, hidden in the trees some distance away, and thither I
forthwith bent my steps. There I learned that I had been taken for a
recruiting sergeant, and the inhabitants had hidden themselves when the
boy galloped up with the message of my approach.
I FIND DIAMONDS.
"For one shall grasp and one resign.
One drink life's rue, and one its wine;
And God shall make the balance good."
Encamped on the banks of the Black River, idly turning up the soil with
the stock of my riding-whip, I was startled to find what I believed to
be real diamonds! Beautifully white, transparent stones they were, and,
rising to examine them closely in the sunlight, I was more than ever
convinced of the richness of my find. Was it possible that I had
unwittingly discovered a diamond field? Could it be true that, after
years of hardship, I had found a fortune? I was a rich man--oh, the
enchanting thought! No need now to toil through scorching suns. I could
live at ease. As I sat with the stones glistening in the light before
my eyes, my brain grew fevered. Leaving my hat and coat on the ground,
I ran towards my horse, and, vaulting on his bare back, wildly galloped
to and fro, that the breezes might cool my fevered head. Rich? Oh, how
I had worked and striven! Life had hitherto been a hard fight. When I
had gathered together a few dollars, I had been prostrated with
malarial or some other fever, and they had flown. After two or three
months of enforced idleness I had had to start the battle of life
afresh with diminished funds. Now the past was dead; I could rest from
strife. Rest! How sweet it sounded as I repeated aloud the precious
word, and the distant echoes brought back the word, Rest!
I was awakened from my day dreams by being thrown from my horse! Hope
for the future had so taken possession of me that the present was
forgotten. I had not seen the caves of the prairie dog, but my horse
had given a sudden start aside to avoid them, and I found myself
licking the dust. Bather a humiliating position for a man to be in who
had just found unlimited wealth; Somewhat subdued, I made my way back
to my solitary encampment.
Well, how shall I conclude this short but pregnant chapter of my life?
Suffice it to say that my idol was shattered! The stones were found to
be of little worth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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