Towards Morning A Large Beast Of Some Kind Leaped
Right Over Me, And I Rose To Rekindle The Fire, Which My Guide Had
Suffered To Die Out, And Then I Watched Until Day Dawned.
As all the
deer was consumed, we started off without breakfast, but were
fortunate later on in being able to shoot two wild turkeys.
That day we rode on through the endless forest of palms, and waded
through a quagmire at least eight miles in extent, where the green
slime reached up to the saddle-flaps. On that day we came to a
sluggish stream, bearing the name of
"Aptikpangmakthlaingwainkyapaimpangkya" (The Place Where the Pots
Were Struck When They Were About to Feast). There a punt was moored,
into which we placed our saddles, etc., and paddled across, while the
horses swam the almost stagnant water. Saddling up on the other side,
we had a journey of thirty miles to make before arriving at a
waterhole, where we camped for the second night. I don't know what
real nectar is, but that water was nectar to me, although the horses
sniffed and at first refused to drink it.
At sunset on the third day we emerged from the palm forest and
endless marshes, and by the evening of the fourth day the church,
built of palm logs, loomed up on the horizon. Many of the Indians
came out to meet us, and my arrival was the talk of the village. The
people seemed happy, and the missionaries made me at home in their
roughly-built log shanties.
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