In a few minutes we reached the foot of the gorge, and kneeling upon a
small ledge of dripping rocks, I bent over to the stream. What a
delicious sensation was I now to experience! I paused for a second to
concentrate all my capabilities of enjoyment, and then immerged my lips
in the clear element before me. Had the apples of Sodom turned to ashes
in my mouth, I could not have felt a more startling revulsion. A single
drop of the cold fluid seemed to freeze every drop of blood in my body;
the fever that had been burning in my veins gave place on the instant
to death-like chills, which shook me one after another like so many
shocks of electricity, while the perspiration produced by my late
violent exertions congealed in icy beads upon my forehead. My thirst
was gone, and I fairly loathed the water. Starting to my feet, the
sight of those dank rocks, oozing forth moisture at every crevice, and
the dark stream shooting along its dismal channel, sent fresh chills
through my shivering frame, and I felt as uncontrollable a desire to
climb up towards the genial sunlight as I before had to descend the
ravine.
After two hours’ perilous exertions we stood upon the summit of another
ridge, and it was with difficulty I could bring myself to believe that
we had ever penetrated the black and yawning chasm which then gaped at
our feet. Again we gazed upon the prospect which the height commanded,
but it was just as depressing as the one which had before met our eyes.
I now felt that in our present situation it was in vain for us to think
of ever overcoming the obstacles in our way, and I gave up all thoughts
of reaching the vale which lay beyond this series of impediments; while
at the same time I could not devise any scheme to extricate ourselves
from the difficulties in which we were involved.
The remotest idea of returning to Nukuheva unless assured of our
vessel’s departure, never once entered my mind, and indeed it was
questionable whether we could have succeeded in reaching it, divided as
we were from the bay by a distance we could not compute, and perplexed
too in our remembrance of localities by our recent wanderings. Besides,
it was unendurable the thought of retracing our steps and rendering all
our painful exertions of no avail.
There is scarcely anything when a man is in difficulties that he is
more disposed to look upon with abhorrence than a right-about
retrograde movement—a systematic going over of the already trodden
ground: and especially if he has a love of adventure, such a course
appears indescribably repulsive, so long as there remains the least
hope to be derived from braving untried difficulties.
It was this feeling that prompted us to descend the opposite side of
the elevation we had just scaled, although with what definite object in
view it would have been impossible for either of us to tell.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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