Thus my time passes away, as I wait for the coolies who sit on a
log in the open road feeding on common basins of dry rice.
After that we had to cross the face of a steep hill. We could, however,
find no road, no pathway even, but could merely see the scratchings of
coolies and ponies already crossed. It was an achievement not unrisky,
but we managed to reach the other side without mishap. My horse, owing
to the stupidity of the man who hung on to his mouth to steady himself,
put his foot in a hole and dragged the fool of a fellow some twenty
yards downwards in the mud. My coolies, themselves in a spot most
dangerous to their own necks, stuck the outside leg deep in the mud to
rest themselves, and set to assiduously in blackguarding the man in
their richest vein, then, extricating themselves, again continued their
journey, satisfied that they had shown the proper front, and saved the
face of the foreigner who could not save it for himself. Then we all
went down through a narrow ravine into a lovely shady glade, all green
and refreshing, with a brook gurgling sweetly at the foot and birds
singing in the foliage. There was something very quaint in this cosy
corner, with the hideous echoes and weird re-echoes of my men's
squealing.
Pages:
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419