Tracks Of A Rolling Stone - Henry J. Coke (novels in english .TXT) 📗

The High Ground On Both

Banks Obliged Us To Make Some Little Detour.  We Then Lost

Sight Of Each Other; Nor Was He To Be Seen When I Reached The

Appointed Spot.

 

Long Before I Did So I Began To Feel The Effects Of My

Labours.  My Naked Feet Were In A Terrible State From The

Cactus Thorns,  Which I Had Been Unable To Avoid In The Dark;

Occasional Stones,  Too,  Had Bruised And Made Them Very

Tender.  Unable To Shuffle On At More Than Two Miles An Hour

At Fastest,  The Happy Thought Occurred To Me Of Tearing Up My

Shirt And Binding A Half Round Each Foot.  This Enabled Me To

Get On Much Better; But When The September Sun Was High,  My

Unprotected Skin And Head Paid The Penalty.  I Waited For A

Couple Of Hours,  I Dare Say,  Hoping Samson Would Appear.  But

Concluding At Length That He Had Arrived Long Before Me, 

Through The Slowness Of My Early Progress,  And Had Gone

Further Up The River - Thinking Perhaps That I Had Meant Some

Other Place - I Gave Him Up; And,  Full Of Internal 'D-N' At

His Incorrigible Consistency,  Plodded On And On For - I Knew

Not Where.

 

Why,  It May Be Asked,  Did I Not Try To Cross Where I Had

Intended?  I Must Confess My Want Of Courage.  True,  The

River Here Was Not Half,  Not A Third,  Of The Width Of The

Scene Of My Disasters; But I Was Weak In Body And In Mind. 

Had Anything Human Been On The Other Side To See Me - To See

How Brave I Was,  (Alas! Poor Human Nature!) - I Could Have

Plucked Up Heart To Risk It.  It Would Have Been Such A

Comfort To Have Some One To See Me Drown!  But It Is

Difficult To Play The Hero With No Spectators Save Oneself. 

I Shall Always Have A Fellow-Feeling With The Last Man: 

Practically,  My Position Was About As Uncomfortable As His

Will Be.

 

One Of The Worst Features Of It Was,  What We So Often 

Chapter 27 Pg 145

Suffered From Before - The Inaccessibility Of Water.  The Sun

Was Broiling,  And The And Soil Reflected Its Scorching Rays. 

I Was Feverish From Exhaustion,  And There Was Nothing, 

Nothing To Look Forward To.  Mile After Mile I Crawled Along, 

Sometimes Half Disposed To Turn Back,  And Try The Deep But

Narrow Passage; Then That Inexhaustible Fountain Of Last

Hopes - The Unknown - Tempted Me To Go Forward.  I

Persevered; When Behold! As I Passed A Rock,  An Indian Stood

Before Me.

 

He Was As Naked As I Was.  Over His Shoulder He Carried A

Spear As Long As A Salmon Rod.  Though Neither Had Foreseen

The Other,  He Was Absolutely Unmoved,  Showed No Surprise,  No

Curiosity,  No Concern.  He Stood Still,  And Let Me Come Up To

Him.  My Only,  Or Rather My Uppermost,  Feeling Was Gladness. 

Of Course The Thought Crossed Me Of What He Might Do If He

Owed The White Skins A Grudge.  If Any White Man Had Ever

Harmed One Of His Tribe,  I Was At His Mercy; And It Was

Certain That He Would Show Me None.  He Was A Tall Powerful

Man,  And In My Then Condition He Could Have Done What He

Pleased With Me.  Friday Was My Model; The Red Man Was

Robinson Crusoe.  I Kneeled At His Feet,  And Touched The

Ground With My Forehead.  He Did Not Seem The Least Elated By

My Humility:  There Was Not A Spark Of Vanity In Him. 

Indeed,  Except For Its Hideousness And Brutality,  His Face

Was Without Expression.

 

I Now Proceeded To Make A Drawing,  With My Finger,  In The

Sand,  Of A Mule In The Water; While I Imitated By Pantomime

The Struggles Of The Drowning.  I Then Pointed To Myself;

And,  Using My Arms As In Swimming,  Shook My Head And My

Finger To Signify That I Could Not Swim.  I Worked An

Imaginary Paddle,  And Made Him Understand That I Wanted Him

To Paddle Me Across The River.  Still He Remained Unmoved;

Till Finally I Used One Argument Which Interested Him More

Than All The Rest Of My Story.  I Untied A Part Of The Shirt

Round One Foot And Showed Him Three Gold Studs.  These I Took

Out And Gave To Him.  I Also Made A Drawing Of A Rifle In The

Sand,  And Signified That He Would Get The Like If He Went

With Me To My Camp.  Whereupon He Turned In The Direction I

Was Going; And,  Though Unbidden By A Look,  I Did Not Hesitate

To Follow.

 

I Thought I Must Have Dropped Before We Reached His Village. 

This Was An Osier-Bed At The Water's Side,  Where The Whole

River Rushed Through A Rocky Gorge Not More Than Fifty To

Sixty Yards Broad.  There Were Perhaps Nearly A Hundred

Indians Here,  Two-Thirds Of Whom Were Women And Children. 

Their Habitations Were Formed By Interlacing The Tops Of The

Osiers.  Dogs' Skins Spread Upon The Ground And Numerous

Salmon Spears Were Their Only Furniture.  In A Few Minutes My

Arrival Created A Prodigious Commotion.  The Whole Population

Turned Out To Stare At Me.  The Children Ran Into The Bushes

To Hide.  But Feminine Curiosity Conquered Feminine Timidity

Chapter 27 Pg 146

Although I Was In The Plight Of The Forlorn Odysseus After

His Desperate Swim,  I Had No 'Blooming Foliage' To Wind

[Greek Text Which Cannot Be Reproduced].  Unlike The

Phaeacian Maidens,  However,  The Tawny Nymphs Were All As

Brave As Princess Nausicaa Herself.  They Stared,  And

Pointed,  And Buzzed,  And Giggled,  And Even Touched My Skin

With The Tips Of Their Fingers - To See,  I Suppose,  If The

White Would Come Off.

 

But Ravenous Hunger Turned Up Its Nose At Flirtation.  The

Fillets Of Drying Salmon Suspended From Every Bough Were A

Million Times More Seductive Than The Dark Naiads Who Had

Dressed Them.  Slice After Slice I Tore Down And Devoured,  As

Though My Maw Were As Compendious As Jack The Giant Killer's. 

This So Astonished And Delighted The Young Women That They

Kept Supplying Me,  - With The Expectation,  Perhaps,  That

Sooner Or Later I Must Share The Giant's Fate.

 

While This Was Going On,  A Conference Was Being Held; And I

Had The Satisfaction Of Seeing Some Men Pull Up A Lot Of Dead

Rushes,  Dexterously Tie Them Into Bundles,  And Truss These

Together By Means Of Spears.  They Had No Canoes,  For The

Very Children Were Amphibious,  Living,  So It Seemed,  As Much

In The Water As Out Of It.  When The Raft Was Completed,  I

Was Invited To Embark.  My Original Friend,  Who Had Twisted A

Tow-Rope,  Took This Between His Teeth,  And Led The Way. 

Others Swam Behind And Beside Me To Push And To Pull.  The

Force Of The Water Was Terrific; But They Seemed To Care No

More For That Than Fish.  My Weight Sunk The Rush Bundles A

Good Bit Below The Surface; And To Try My Nerves,  My Crew

Every Now And Then With A Wild Yell Dived Simultaneously, 

Dragging The Raft And Me Under Water.  But I Sat Tight; And

With Genuine Friendliness They Landed Me Safely On The

Desired Shore.

 

It Was Quite Dark Before We Set Forth.  Robinson Crusoe

Walked On As If He Knew Exactly Where My Camp Was.  Probably

The Whole Catastrophe Had By This Time Been Bruited For Miles

Above And Below The Spot.  Five Other Stalwart Young Fellows

Kept Us Company,  Each With Salmon Spear In Hand.  The Walk

Seemed Interminable; But I Had Shipped A Goodly Cargo Of

Latent Energy.

 

When I Got Home,  Instead Of Samson,  I Found The Camp Occupied

By Half A Dozen Indians.  They Were Squatted Round A Fire, 

Smoking.  Each One,  So It Seemed,  Had Appropriated Some

Article Of Our Goods.  Our Blankets Were Over Their

Shoulders.  One Had William's Long Rifle In His Lap.  Another

Was Sitting Upon Mine.  A Few Words Were Exchanged With The

Newcomers,  Who Seated Themselves Beside Their Friends; But No

More Notice Was Taken Of Me Than Of The Mules Which Were

Eating Rushes Close To Us.  How Was I,  Single-Handed,  To

Regain Possession?  That Was The Burning Question.  A

Diplomatic Course Commanded Itself As The Only Possible One.  

Chapter 27 Pg 147

There Were Six Men Who Expected Rewards,  But The Wherewithal

Was Held In Seisin By Other Six.  The Fight,  If There Were

One,  Should Be Between The Two Parties.  I Would Hope To

Prove,  That When Thieves Fall Out Honest Men Come By Their

Own.

 

There Is One Adage Whose Truth I Needed No Further Proof Of. 

Its First Line Apostrophises The 'Gods And Little Fishes.' 

My Chief Need Was For The Garment Which Completes The Rhyme. 

Indians,  Having No Use For Corduroy Small Clothes,  I Speedily

Donned Mine.  Next I Quietly But Quickly Snatched Up

William's Rifle,  And Presented It To Robinson Crusoe,  Patting

Him On The Back As If With Honours Of Knighthood.  The

Dispossessed Was Not Well Pleased,  But Sir Robinson Was; And, 

To All Appearances,  He Was A Man Of Leading,  If Of Darkness. 

While Words Were Passing Between The Two,  I Sauntered Round

To The Gentleman Who Sat Cross-Legged Upon My Weapon.  He Was

As Heedless Of Me As I,  Outwardly,  Of Him.  When Well Within

Reach,  Mindful That 'De L'audace' Is No Bad Motto,  In Love

And War,  I Suddenly Placed My Foot Upon His Chest,  Tightened

The Extensor Muscle Of My Leg,  And Sent Him Heels Over Head. 

In An Instant The Rifle Was Mine,  And Both Barrels Cocked. 

After Yesterday's Immersion It Might Not Have Gone Off,  But

The Offended Indian,  Though Furious,  Doubtless Inferred From

The Histrionic Attitude Which I At Once Struck,  That I Felt

Confident It Would.  With My Rifle In Hand,  With My Suite

Looking To Me To Transfer The Plunder To Them,  My Position

Was Now Secure.  I Put On A Shirt - The Only One Left To Me, 

By The Way - My Shoes And Stockings,  And My Shooting Coat;

And Picking Out William's Effects,  Divided These,  With His

Ammunition,  His Carpet-Bag,  And His Blankets,  Amongst My

Original Friends.  I Was Beginning To Gather My Own Things

Together,  When Samson,  Leading My Horse,  Unexpectedly Rode

Into The Midst Of Us.  The Night Was Far Advanced.  The

Indians Took Their Leave; And Added To The Obligation By

Bequeathing Us A Large Fresh Salmon,  Which Served Us For Many

A Day To Come.

 

As A Postscript I May Add That I Found Poor Mary's Address On

One Of Her Letters,  And Faithfully Kept My Promise As Soon As

I Reached Pen And Ink.