It is no exaggeration to say that the
summits of the rocks on either side of the glen were lined with
natives; they could almost touch me with their spears. I did not feel
quite at home in this charming retreat, although I was the cynosure of
a myriad eyes. The natives stood upon the edge of the rocks like
statues, some pointing their spears menacingly towards me, and I
certainly expected that some dozens would be thrown at me. Both
parties seemed paralysed by the appearance of the other. I scarcely
knew what to do; I knew if I turned to retreat that every spear would
be launched at me. I was, metaphorically, transfixed to the spot. I
thought the only thing to do was to brave the situation out, as
"Cowards, 'tis said, in certain situations
Derive a sort of courage from despair;
And then perform, from downright desperation,
Much bolder deeds than many a braver man would dare."
(ILLUSTRATION: ESCAPE GLEN - THE ADVANCE.)
(ILLUSTRATION: ESCAPE GLEN - THE RETREAT.)
(ILLUSTRATION: MIDDLETON'S PASS AND FISH PONDS.)
I was choking with thirst, though in vain I looked for a sheet of
water; but seeing where they had dug out some sand, I advanced to one
or two wells in which I could see water, but without a shovel only a
native could get any out of such a funnel-shaped hole.
