Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
pasty mud and water. For long distances my poor mule sank in to the girth and had difficulty
in pulling his legs out of the mud.
Towards midday it became quite dark, and presently a regular deluge began to fall. To
makeitworse,wherethetrailledthroughahollow,somuchwateraccumulatedthatitreached
halfway up the mule's flanks. In spite of my rubber cape I was soaked to the skin, and after a
while I did not even trouble to raise my legs when we waded through deep water. Lightning
begantoflash,andear-shatteringthunder-clapsshooktheforest.Thisfuriousbattleoftheele-
ments lasted for what seemed an eternity - and then, suddenly, there was a blank. How long
it lasted I do not know, but the next thing I remember is the sensation of sitting in a soft bed,
trying in vain to see through the darkness. I remember rubbing my eyes, and seeing red and
violet blotches chasing each other in circles.
Once this dance of fireworks had slowed down I gradually began to see. I had no idea
where I was, much less what had happened. Looking around me I saw my mule sitting on its
haunches like a dog, every now and again shaking its head. This struck me as so funny that
I watched the animal for quite a while before I began to think clearly. A loud thunder-clap
brought me to my senses, and it dawned on me that we had nearly been struck by lightning.
When I put on my hat, which was lying near me, the roots of my hair pricked like so many
pins. I had fears that the mule was hurt, but to my great relief it got up after a few pulls at the
bridle.
Towards evening the rain stopped, and when I arrived at Pereira I ordered a double whack
of brandy, and as I was drinking it I wished that if I have to die an unnatural death it will be to
be struck by lightning.
OnthenextdayIfoundtheboyandthehorsesinexcellentcondition.Victortoldmehehad
been dreaming that I was struck by lightning and that he had buried me in the mud alongside
sometrail.TheboyhadnoideaIwascomingbacksosoon.Wasthiscoincidenceortelepathy?
It certainly felt good to be with my companions again, and although the trail towards Man-
izales was nothing but mud and
camellones
, I was happy to be moving once more. When we
reached that town it looked like a shell-battered French village, for a fire had recently des-
troyed most of it, and reconstruction had begun under American engineers. I was unfortunate
in finding a bed in a musty old hotel constructed of wood. With it, thousands of insects had
escaped the purification of fire. To make things worse, a stranded theatrical company was
crowdedintothemouldyplace,andthroughoutthenightsomeofthempractisedmusicondif-
ferentinstrumentswhilstothersdancedtothetuneofagramophone,andtheactressescackled
and shrieked like parrots whenever one of their admirers told a stupid joke.
