Bright Blue, Flannelly-Looking Flowers Stud The Grass In
Sheltered Places And A Very Pretty Large Green Orchid Is Plentiful.
Above Us Is A Bright Blue Sky With White Cloud Rushing Hurriedly
Across It To The N.E. And A Fierce Sun.
When I am about half-way
up, I think of those boys, and, wanting rest, sit down by an
inviting-looking rock grotto, with a patch of the yellow flowered
shrub growing on its top.
Inside it grow little ferns and mosses,
all damp; but alas! no water pool, and very badly I want water by
this time.
Below me a belt of white cloud had now formed, so that I could see
neither the foot-hillocks nor the forest, and presently out of this
mist came Xenia toiling up, carrying my black bag. "Where them
Black boy live?" said I. "Black boy say him foot be tire too much,"
said Xenia, as he threw himself down in the little shade the rock
could give. I took a cupful of sour claret out of the bottle in the
bag, and told Xenia to come on up as soon as he was rested, and
meanwhile to yell to the others down below and tell them to come on.
Xenia did, but sadly observed, "softly softly still hurts the
snail," and I left him and went on up the mountain.
When I had got to the top of the rock under which I had sheltered
from the blazing sun, the mist opened a little, and I saw my men
looking like so many little dolls.
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