RAMBLE INTO THE INTERIOR.
Finding by the sun that it was yet early in the day, we resolved, after
resting awhile, to push on as far as we could go into the interior. The
prospect was perfectly enchanting. Winding ridges and deep gorges lay
before us as we looked back from the ocean; and cool glens, shaded with
myrtle, and open fields of grass in the soft haze below, and springs
bubbling over the rocks with a pleasant music; all varied, all rich and
tempting. Away we darted over the rocks, shouting with glee, so
irresistible was the feeling of freedom after our dreary ship-life, and
so inspiring the freshness of the air and the wondrous beauty of the
scenery. The ridge upon which our path lay was barely wide enough for a
foothold. It was composed of loose stones and crumbling pieces of clay.
The precipice on the right was nearly perpendicular; on the left craggy
peaks reared their grizzled heads from masses of dark green shrubbery,
like the turrets of ancient castles shaken to ruin by the tempests of
ages. Sometimes we had to get down on our hands and knees, and creep
over the narrow goat-paths for twenty or thirty feet, holding on by the
roots and shrubs that grew in the crevices of the rocks, and at
intervals force ourselves through jungles of bushes so closely
interwoven that for half an hour we could scarcely gain a hundred yards.
About three miles back from the sea-coast, having labored hard to reach
a high point overlooking one of the interior valleys, we were stopped by
an abrupt rampart of rocks. Here we had to look about us, and consider a
long time how we were to get over it.
We now began to suffer all the tortures of thirst after our perilous
adventure on the Nipple, and our subsequent struggle through the bushes
and along the ridge. There was no sign of a spring any where near; the
cliffs were bleached with the wind, and not so much as a drop of water
could be found in any of the hollows that had been washed in the rocks
by the rain. In this extremity we sat down on a bank of moss, ready to
die of thirst, and began to think we would have to return without
getting a sight of the valley on the other side of the cliff, when I
observed a curious plant close by, nearly covered with great bowl-shaped
leaves.
"Abraham," said I, "may be there's water there!"
"May be there is," said Abraham; "let us look."
We jumped up and ran over to where the strange plant was, and there we
beheld the leaves half full of fine clear water!
"There! what do you think of that, Abraham? Isn't it refreshing? You see
it requires a person like me to find fresh water on the top of a
mountain where there are no springs."
"Yes, yes," quoth Abraham, slowly, "but may be it's poison."
"Sure enough--may be it is! I didn't think of that," said I, very much
startled at the idea of drinking poison. "Suppose you drink some and
try. If it doesn't do you any harm, I'll drink some myself in about half
an hour."
"Well, I would like a good drink," said Abraham, thoughtfully; "there's
no denying that. But it always goes better when I have a friend to join
me. I'll tell you what I'll do, Luff. You take one bowl and I'll take
another, and we'll sit down here and call it whisky punch, and both
drink at the same time."
"Very good," said I, "that's a fair bargain. Come on, Abraham."
So we cut the stems of two large leaves, containing each about a pint of
water, and sat down on a rock.
"Your health," said I, raising my bowl; "long life and happiness to you,
Abraham!"
"Thank you," said Abraham; "the same to you!"
"Why don't you drink?" I asked, seeing that my friend kept looking at me
without touching the contents of the bowl.
"I'm going to drink presently."
"Drink away, then!"
"Here goes!"
But it was not "here goes," for he still kept looking at me without
drinking.
"Well," said I, impatiently, "what are you afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid," cried Abraham, "but I don't see you drinking."
"Nonsense, man! I'm waiting for you!"
"Go ahead, then."
"Go ahead."
Here there was a long pause, and we watched each other with great
attention. At last, entirely out of patience, I lowered my bowl and
said,
"Abraham, do you want me to poison myself?"
"No, I don't," said Abraham; "I'd be very sorry for it."
"Then why did you propose that we should drink this poison together? for
I verily believe it must be poison, or it wouldn't look so tempting."
"Because you wanted me to drink it first."
"Did I? Give me your hand, Abraham; I forgot that." Whereupon we shook
hands, and agreed to consider it not whisky punch, but poison, and drink
none at all.
[Illustration: THE TROGON.]
Our thirst increasing to a painful degree, we were about to retrace our
steps, when I observed a little bird perch himself upon the edge of a
leaf not far off, and commence drinking from the hollow. I told Abraham
to look.
"Sure enough," said he, "birds don't drink whisky punch."
"No," said I, "God Almighty never made a bird or a four-legged beast yet
that would naturally drink punch or any other kind of poison. It must be
water, and good water too, for birds have more sense than men about what
they drink. So here goes, whether you join or not."
"And here goes too!" cried Abraham; and we both, without hesitating any
longer, emptied our bowls to the bottom; and so pure and delicious was
the water that we emptied half a dozen leavesful more, and never felt a
bit afraid that it would hurt us; for we knew then that God had made
these cups of living green, and filled them with water fresh from the
heavens for the good of His creatures.